


Stolen Heir

by kaotic312



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Family Drama, Fíli Lives, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kili/Tauriel - Freeform, Kíli lives, Original Dwarf Characters - Freeform, Overprotective Dwarves, Overprotective Family, Protective Fíli, Thorin Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 79
Words: 547,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2212704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaotic312/pseuds/kaotic312
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who is Kili's father?  He doesn't know.  Thorin doesn't know.  Dis knows.  She's not telling.  What happens when he finds out that she left and didn't tell him she was carrying his son?  Alternative Ending to BOFA.  Family drama!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Dis takes something that doesn't belong to her entirely

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [被偷走的继承人](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3440594) by [elbereth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elbereth/pseuds/elbereth), [nowishes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowishes/pseuds/nowishes)



> Okay, okay. I don't own any of The Hobbit or it's characters.
> 
> I was reading some character research for a current story. Plot bunnies attacked me. Plot bunnies kept attacking me. Damnable plot bunnies won't leave me alone until I started this story.

Second marriages were nearly unheard of with Dwarves. In dwarvish society, the females are never forced into marriage and can choose not to marry if they can't wed the one they love. Marriage is for life.

Unless you are the daughter and granddaughter of kings. And unless you are in direct descent from Durin the Deathless. And of your two brothers, one died too young and the other could die at any time in battle. And that brother is also unwed.

Apparently this was too close to extinction for the family bloodline.

Dis refused to cry. Her hands were shaking so badly that she could read no further, but she was not crying. Her grandfather had fallen in battle. Her father's mind had broken and he was captured or dead. That was as far as she'd managed to read. But it was enough.

Thorin was now the defacto leader of their people. But her older brother knew nothing of her current location or circumstances.

Dis, the one time princess, sighed heavily. When she'd married Nehili she'd been terribly happy. Then he'd fallen in a horrible mining accident, leaving her with an infant son who was his father's mirror.

Now a rambunctious four year old, Fili fairly flew around the room chasing shadows like they were real enemies with a stick pretending to be a sword. Sadly, Dis watched the one joy in her life. He was going to be a warrior, just like his father, his uncles, his father and once even his grandfather. But that was a long way off. For today, Fili was a loving and sweet young dwarrow who would be wanting lunch soon.

And she? What was she?

A test. An offering from her father and grandfather. Not forced, no ...never that. But a grieving widow willing to do nearly anything for the love of her people.

Second marriages. Bah.

She'd been here four months now. Her husband wasn't any happier than she. They were kind to one another. Polite. Both were trying, she had to admit. But this ...whatever this really was, wasn't working.

And now the only two dwarves who knew what she was doing and where she was ...were dead or missing.

Dis didn't even think about it. She bustled around the richly appointed rooms, taking nothing of his. In between feeding Fili a cold sandwhich and packing, she was ready to go in under two hours.

The most time she used was to pen the note she was leaving. The note read, _"I'm sorry. I have taken nothing that didn't belong to me. You are not at fault. Please forgive me."_

Not the most elegant way to end a relationship. The marriage wasn't over, of course. Divorce was a human concept, unheard of among any other race. But Dis knew neither of them would remarry or want to do so, and in this the point was moot.

Once away, Dis slipped into the nearest human settlement and arranged for passage back to Ered Luin. It wasn't until she and Fili were settled in the travelling caravan that she realized that her four year old son was wearing a bead braided into his hair. One given to him by her second husband. A kindness to a child that wasn't his.

Dis felt a moment of regret for someone who had ever been polite, and even kind in his way. But as her love was dead, so was his. Though he'd never had the chance to marry the one he'd loved before her untimely demise. Thus their fathers, and her grandfather, had arrived at suggesting a marriage between them instead. For heirs.

Pensive and sad, Dis could not bring herself to remove the bead from Fili's braid. And it wasn't until two months later that the dwarven princess realized that she hadn't left her second marriage as cleanly as she'd thought.

She had indeed taken something of his with her.

Dis sighed, resting her hands upon her still flat stomach. She was pregnant.

Worse? She had no intention of telling him.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis sat on the porch, snapping beans for supper, watching the sun inching closer to the mountains in preparation of setting. She smiled at the two young male dwarrows wrestling in the grass.

"Whose?" Thorin stood behind her chair, leaning casually against the wall next to the cabin's door.

The younger sister didn't have to guess what he meant by his question. He'd been asking the same one for nearly nine years now.

Kili ended up on the bottom of course. He was five years younger than Fili. But the brunette didn't seem to realize he'd been beaten. His dark eyes narrowed and he pushed out his lips in defiance, balling up his fist and striking his brother as hard as he could.

Fili reared back, frowning. "No cheating!" He held up his fingers and dug them into Kili's sides, making the younger brother screech with delight and anger at the same time.

Thorin sighed, having once again not received an answer. He frowned over at both of his nephews. "It's plain that they had different sires, even if I didn't already know you'd long been a widow before Kili was made."

"They are brothers." Dis insisted, calmly filling her bowl with fresh snapped beans. "That's all that needs to be known."

Thorin scowled. "They are both my heirs. Kili is a wonderful lad, but I have to know. Whose is he?"

Dis shook her head. "All you have to know is his heart. The lad adores you and would follow you anywhere."

The dark-haired dwarven prince snorted and shook his head. "He's reckless."

"He's eight." Dis countered. "Teach him better."

"He's too thin." Thorin sighed, squinting as the two brothers now chased each other around and around the cabin. "You need to feed him more."

Dis stifled a laugh, and shook her head. "He goes to bed stuffed as it is. Our people sometimes barely have enough, but you and Dwalin and even cousin Balin each sneak a bit extra to Kili. He's going to be as big as your friend Bombur one day soon."

Thorin chuckled. "Everyone likes him." He sighed, shaking his head. "Can't help it. He's just got that ...something."

Dis' hands hesitated, then she gave a bright smile. "That's our grandfather in him."

Thorin nodded absently, missing his sister's momentary lapse. "I don't remember Thror ever being that charming. No matter what stories the older dwarrows tell."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Mam? What's a bastard?"

Dinner effectively stopped. Thorin's eyes found those of his cousin Dwalin, who was visiting for the evening. The older dwarf shrugged, looking puzzled. Fili hadn't heard the word from him.

Dis looked at seventeen year old Fili and sighed. "Stop pulling at your mustache, it will grow unless you keep messing with it."

Fili grimaced, but put his hands back down on the table.

"Where did you hear that word?" Thorin asked, his tone deceptively mild.

Fili shrugged, looking down at his half-empty plate.

Dis looked over at Kili, who was acting like he wasn't paying attention. Her eyes narrowed on her youngest son, he was currently pushing his food around on his plate. Not eating. She looked up and caught Dwalin's eyes, then looked back down at Kili's plate.

Dwalin frowned sharply. "Kili?"

Instead of his usual chipper self, the twelve year old just stared at his potatoes and stabbed them with his knife a bit.

Thorin frowned, noticing where the other adults were looking. "Who said the word bastard?"

Kili's shoulders hunched.

Dis put her hand on her youngest's arm. "Answer your uncle." She told him as gently as possible.

Fili coughed and frowned. "The grocer called Kili a bastard. We don't know what it is, but he didn't make it sound like a good thing."

Thorin balled up his cloth napkin, tossing it on the table, his appetite gone. "I'll take care of him."

"You won't." Dis sent him a sharp glare before turning her attention back to young Kili. "Son? A bastard is a child born when the parents weren't married. That's all."

Kili frowned, trying to piece it together in his young mind.

"But neither you nor your brother are bastards." Dis continued.

Dwalin and Thorin shot each other incredulous looks, both suddenly not breathing. Were they finally going to hear just whom Kili's father was?

"I married twice." Dis continued, watching the hopeful look dawning in Kili's eyes. "Unusual, but I did it. I will swear on that by Durin's Axe and Blood if need be."

Thorin's eyes widened in shock. An oath like that was far from meaningless. He swallowed hard.

"It was arranged by my father and grandfather, but it didn't work out." Dis smiled gently. "But I am forever grateful, for this marriage gave me you."

Fili frowned. "Why didn't it work? Didn't he like me and Kili?"

Dis shook her head, looking between her two fine sons. "He gifted you with your first braid-bead. He was very kind to both of us. Though he never got a chance to meet Kili."

The younger dwarrow opened his mouth to ask further questions, when Thorin cleared his throat. "If you're not going to eat, go on out and get your chores done before bed." He gave both children a long look. "Go."

Kili and Fili both grabbed a last bite of dinner and scrambled out the door in a hurry.

Once the room was clear of young ears, Thorin leaned back in his chair. His dark eyes studied his younger sister. "Truth?"

"So I would swear." Dis commented firmly, not looking away from her brother.

Dwalin sat still, not saying anything, his mind racing for possible names. He finally shot a glance at Thorin and shrugged. He still didn't know who had fathered Kili.

Thorin's frown grew deeper. "It doesn't make sense. Any family would be proud to be invested into Durin's Line. Kili is my second heir, and ..." His words stopped as a wild thought occurred to him. "Kili's father isn't dead."

Dwalin's eyes flew to Dis' face, hissing with shock as he saw her wince as the truth was revealed.

"You're still married to him." Thorin's voice dropped low with shock.

Dis stood, gathering up the dishes from the table. She carried them into the kitchen and came back with a bone. The one-time elegant princess of Durin's Folk opened the back door to the cabin and tossed the bone out for the watchdog.

Thorin watched her come back and start to wipe down her end of the table. His mind was racing, and first and foremost was the realization that his sister really didn't want to discuss this.

Why?

Thorin grabbed her hand as she passed him. She yanked her arm out of his grasp. He let her go. "Dis?"

The dwarrowdam sighed, but didn't answer.

Dwalin cleared his throat uncomfortably. Cousins he might be, but this conversation was for closer family than that. "I can go."

Dis shook her head. "He must never know."

Dwalin's eyebrows drew together in concern. "Know what?"

Thorin was quicker to the goal. He closed his eyes in shock and consternation. "Does he even know he has a child?"

Dwalin swallowed wrong, coughing roughly so that he could catch his breath.

Dis smiled sadly at her older brother. "It's well known among all our kind. I have two sons. Both your heirs. Of course he knows." She told him. And that well could be true, for all she knew. Somehow though, deep inside, she doubted it.

He would have come if he'd known.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"See there? Nothing bad. We both had fathers and neither of us is a bastard." Fili poked his dejected looking younger sibling in the side, using the newly discovered word.

Kili sighed, putting his head down. "We both heard."

"We don't know what we heard." Fili protested. "Hanging around by the open window doesn't mean we heard everything."

The dark-haired brother looked up, his eyes misty with hurt.

Fili moaned, moving closer to put his arm around his younger brother. "It's okay."

Kili shook his head, struggling not to cry. Only babies cried. He was twelve, young for a dwarf, but not a baby. "Thorin said he was still alive."

Fili frowned, shaking his head. "No. He was guessing. That's all."

"If my father is still alive, and mam is still married to him." Kili's shoulders hunched. "Then he left because he didn't want me. I wasn't good enough."

"Us." Fili grimaced. "I was around then. You heard mam. Your da gave me my first braid-bead." He reached behind one ear and pulled out a small braid capped by a pretty silver bead with a symbol on it. "I don't remember him." He added, sounding sad.

Kili felt a tear loosen from his left eye and trace it's way down his cheek. "Damn it."

Fili sat up, having heard enough. "Stop. Mam loves us. Thorin is training us. We're both HIS heirs. No other dwarrow in the world is better than Uncle Thorin."

The younger dwarrow looked up, hope blooming quickly in his face. "That's right!"

Fili slapped his thigh hard enough to sting. "We are the Folk of Durin. We can trace our line back to the First Age. Never forget that!"

"I won't!" Kili jumped up, his usual cheer rising back up a notch.

Fili grinned, hiding the anger he felt behind his smile. He promised himself, if he ever met the bastard that was Kili's father, he'd kick him in the balls. How dare he leave their mam? How dare he leave Kili, like he was nothing!

The blond youth put his hand on the silver bead in his hair, inwardly swearing an oath that he would wear it until the day he could beat the crap out of the dwarf who'd made his mother and brother so sad.


	2. In which Dis asks Thorin for a favor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have commented! I want to make sure I answer one question right up front. Kili's father will NOT be an OC of any kind. His father will be a Tolkien character and not mine.

Dis and Thorin heard the laughter first, then the stomping of boots to clear the snow encrusted on them. She smiled and cut two generous portions of the fresh nut bread she'd brought to Thorin for his lunch.

"Company." Thorin murmured, then took another large bite of his stew.

"Were you expecting them today?" Dis asked her brother.

Thorin, his mouth full, shook his head and shrugged. He didn't know why her sons would be visiting the town today, much less the smithy where he labored.

The voices outside were a comforting blend of hunting talk and laughter. The two weren't alone, but she didn't get alarmed, the other voice was a comfortable bass with the gruff accent of Erebor. Another exile then.

Dis wrapped her hands with with towels to pull her stew pot off the flames. She made a face at it's aromatic perfection, remembering how in the first few years of their exile from Erebor, she'd burned enough food to FILL their former home. Cooking was a skill she'd had to acquire, it had not come natural to her. She refilled Thorin's bowl for him and he grunted in thanks.

The smithy was open aired, but enclosed on this end of the building. And despite the cold, snowy conditions, quite warm from the smithy fires. Still, a chilled blast of air came in along with Dis' two sons. She grinned, they looked like the snowmen that the human children sometimes crafted.

"Nut bread!" Kili's brilliant grin was revealed first as he dragged off the thick scarf around his face. He shook his head vigorously. Long, wavy dark hair twined around his face and back again, sending pieces of snow and melting ice flinging across the area.

"Don't act like the hound!" Dis frowned sharply and threw her towel into her youngest son's face. "And just where is your hat?"

Abashed, Kili shrugged as Fili pulled off his own scarf. "Lost it tracking a bull and some cows." The dark-haired youth ran the towel through his snow dampened hair.

Thorin frowned mid-chew, his eyebrows going up. Dis asked the obvious question. "Since when do you hunt bulls and not game?"

"Since farmer Denish had snow collapse his fences." Fili grinned widely. "He hired several of us to repair the damage. And he hired Kili to track his missing stock. The bull was the last one."

Dis shifted uncomfortably and Thorin shot a frown at his younger sister. She was always unhappy when her lads had to mix with humans. If she had her way, they'd never leave the cabin or its environs. "Pay well?" He grunted finally.

Fili pulled out a pouch and tossed it to his uncle, who weighed it in his hand with a pleased expression. Like most dwarves, he could just about know how much was inside from the weight of the coins, down to the last copper bit. "Nice."

Dis couldn't help her frown. "It doesn't put meat on the table when you hunt things other than game."

Thorin ignored her, knowing she didn't mind the extra money as much as she was overprotective. "Which chores are yet to be done at home, then?"

Kili grinned and pointed over his shoulder at Fili as he moved in next to his mother.

"Answer your uncle, son."

"But there's nut bread!" Kili's dark eyes were pleading. "And it's not like we've been lazy."

Dis laughed, never able to resist those melting dark eyes, handed him the thick bread. Kili tossed the first slice to his brother, who caught it easily. He then started stuffing the second slice into his mouth with eagerness.

"Look who we found on our way over here." Fili grinned, then shrugged at his uncle. "We set the firewood right enough, delivered about half before farmer Denish hired us."

"Half." Thorin snorted, shaking his head. "You'll need to finish the other half after you eat or there will be some cold dwarrow toes tonight."

Fili nodded and Kili grinned, his mouth full of delicious nut bread.

"Some of those toes might even be mine." The dwarf the lads had met on the way over stepped into the warmth of the smithy. Dark eyes peered at the group from above the scarf encrusted with snow and ice. The thick beard coming out from beneath the scarf showed hints of red underneath the wintery mix.

"Cousin Gloin!" Dis smiled with genuine warmth. "Almost a stranger to me now. I haven't seen you at the cabin in near on three months!"

Gloin grinned at her as he unwrapped his scarf, revealing the lower half of his face. "The last time I came over you had me mopping. Mopping! Axes I can handle, but not mops."

Fifteen year old Kili laughed, remembered the brief warm spell they'd had and the mixture of mud and slushy ice that Gloin had tracked in all over their mam's clean floor.

"I'll take an axe to you lot if you don't start cleaning up after yourselves a bit more." She lightly smacked Kili's ear, making the lad shift away slightly. "That goes for you too."

"I have some news."

Gloin's words gave Thorin pause and his hand hesitated as he reached for the last slice of nut bread before his nephews could steal it. But to the dwarven prince's eyes, his cousin didn't look upset or worried. Nothing urgent. He grunted and picked up his bread, continuing with lunch. Instead, he nodded at Fili. "Farmer Denish lives closer to the cabin than he does the town. Why are you lads out here? Did you need me?"

Fili looked down at his feet. Thorin looked over at Kili, and was surprised to see the youngster's face shining beet red.

"Kili?" Thorin prodded sternly.

Looking nothing short of harassed, the fifteen year old shot his mother a look of near panic.

Dis' mothering instincts kicked in quickly. "Something for your uncle but not your mam?"

Fili wiped the toe of his heavy boot against the back of his other boot. He didn't raise his blond head.

"If you don't ask, you won't learn. I won't guess and I've got work waiting for me and so do you two." Thorin had no patience for nonsense.

Fili twisted his mouth and spoke up, unable to look at his mam. "While I was working on the fence, Hafer said something about his sister."

Dis closed her eyes in consternation. She knew what was coming. "Let me guess, she's in seclusion?"

Thorin and Gloin both chuckled, shaking their heads. So that was it. Poor Dis.

Kili looked up, unsure. "Fili said that they said that she was in prison." He looked absolutely miserable at the thought.

Gloin's chuckle turned into an outright laugh, and even their uncle smiled a bit.

Dis sighed. "That's a less elegant way of saying the same thing."

"She's pregnant." Thorin decided to cut to the meat of the matter. "She's not going to be allowed around non-family, or humans, until she delivers safely. You know we protect our own."

Both sets of young eyes rounded with surprise. Fili grinned sheepishly. "What does it mean when they said that her husband finally woke up proper?"

Laughter stilled and Gloin coughed, looking away.

Thorin eyed his sister and grinned. "Ask your mam."

Dis sneered at her older brother. "Ask your uncle."

Gloin groaned and ran a hand over his beard. "Fili is how old now, twenty? He should be knowing this."

Kili stiffened, outrage on his young face. He did not want to be left out of the knowing.

Dis reached out and pushed her youngest on the shoulder with a soft laugh. "What one knows, so does the other. And Kili is too young."

"Am not!" The fifteen year old protested hotly.

"Oh by Nain's bearded ass." Thorin cursed and pointed at Kili's chin. "When you have more than a dusting of hair, we'll talk."

Fili, with a good two inches of full blond beard growth, grinned proudly.

"Language!" Dis' voice turned sharp as she glared at her older sibling. She sighed, wiping her hands on her leather trousers as she stood. "Thorin, tell them proper. Don't use coarse language and don't embellish."

"I have work." Thorin complained, not wanting to deal with this now. "Tomorrow. I'll speak to them tomorrow about ...this."

Kili's face fell into disappointment, nearly a pout.

"Tell ya what lads. I won't be telling you what you're not ready for." Gloin's voice held hints of something fun. Both Kili and Fili looked up hopefully. "But I'm headed over to the east woods. I hear there's a caravan with some beautiful horses passing through."

"Horses?" Fili's face froze for a second, then he grimaced.

"Elvish horses." Gloin promised. "Ridden by real elves. Flapping silk banners, pretty colors and golden armor. Real sight it is, so I'm told. Got word they're heading this way."

A large clatter of sound had the males all turning. Dis had dropped the empty stew pot. Kili's eyes narrowed as he stooped to help her pick it up. He looked concerned as he saw her hands were shaking. "Did you hurt yourself, mam?"

Dis shook her head, looking up with as bright a smile as she could manage. "So. We're to have elvish visitors to town, then?"

Gloin shook his head. "Naw. They were visiting kin, trading, or whatever prissy things elves do. Picking flowers, whatever."

"Picking flowers? It's dead winter." Fili laughed at the thought.

"With elves, maybe it's ice flowers. Who knows?" Gloin muttered. "But they're heading west and passing us by. The lads could come with me if'n you allow."

Dis' breath caught painfully, but she was saved from answering.

"Elves are useless and worthless." Thorin grunted. "These two would be better use finishing up the firewood deliveries."

Relieved beyond measure, Dis smiled. "And then perhaps you could explain a few salient facts to your nephews and take them along with you tonight to Tenol's naming day."

"Naming day?" Thorin coughed on his last bite of the nut bread. He turned his dark eyed gaze on his two nephews. "Are you sure they're ready for that?"

The last few years had wrought a lot of changes. Fifteen year old Kili was now taller than the twenty year old Fili, but only barely. Though Thorin was pretty sure the young dwarrow wasn't done growing just yet. Fili was still the broader of the two, especially through the chest.

In fact, Thorin mused, Kili looked a mite unfinished to him. There was heft to the lad's shoulders and a good deal of strength, but he doubted that he'd catch up to Fili in this area at least. And Fili had a beard. A short one, a bit patchy but filling in quickly, reaching a good two inches below his chin.

Kili, on the other hand ... Thorin frowned. Stubble was finally thickening on his face, but it stubbornly refused to fill out in length.

"Please?" Kili and Fili called in unison, pulling a reluctant smile from their uncle. A naming day ceremony? They'd never been allowed before.

"Thorin was just telling me the other night he thought you two were about ready." Dis continued, throwing Thorin to the wind.

"Really?" Kili perked up immediately. Fili's eyes got wide. They'd never been considered old enough to attend with Thorin before.

Thorin's eyes narrowed thoughtfully on his sister. He had asked her last week about taking Fili along to the naming ceremony for Tenol's son. She'd said no then, but now she was pushing off both lads on him for the night? Even her baby, Kili. He sighed at the though of taking the reckless youngster along.

"Fili might be ready." He allowed.

Kili's dark eyes filled with sudden fear that he might be left out of the fun. "Pleeeease?"

Dis shrugged, as if it were nothing. "They'll be with you, they'll be fine. And they both promise to behave."

"PROMISE!" Kili fairly bounced to his feet, his face eager and beseeching.

Thorin took a deep, audible breath. He was confused by his sister's abrupt change of heart on the matter. Still and all, it shouldn't be too bad of an evening. "Hmph. Fine."

Kili and Fili shared a victorious look. Seeing elves from afar was nothing compared to going to a dwarven naming ceremony!

Nervously Dis gathered up the empty dishes from the lunch she'd brought to the smithy for her brother. "Make sure they behave themselves. And be sure to explain the ways of reproduction without adding to their vocubulary any words that will get their ears boxed."

Thorin's head snapped up, glaring at his younger sibling. "I didn't agree to that."

"You did actually." Gloin pointed out most helpfully.

"No ale!" Dis pointed at both of her young sons, swinging her finger back and forth between the two.

Thorin soberly grimaced and sniffed as if smelling something foul. He turned to both of his young heirs. "Chores first, or we don't go at all. One of you messes up, you both stay home. I'll be home before dinner ...to talk." He snarled out the last word. "And your mam owes me."

"Yes uncle!" Both lads promised, looking far, far too happy. The two boys ran out of the smithy without further thought.

"Put on your scarves. Kili! Get your old hat from the dresser before delivering any more firewood today!"

Kili ran back into the area, grabbed his scarf with a wink. He then leaned in close to his mam and pressed a big, smacking kiss to her cheek. "Thank you for making uncle take me too."

Thorin scowled. "No one makes me do anything, child."

Kili gave a cocky grin and raced back out of the smithy, heading toward the home cabin.

Dis watched him go with a painful heart. Fifteen years. For fifteen years she'd hoarded his life, keeping him for herself. For Fili. Even for Thorin. Sometimes her brother would get so sad, and only Kili could tease him out of it.

She wanted fifteen more years. And then fifteen after that, and again and again. Dis knew she was being selfish. But she couldn't bring herself to write a letter. She didn't fool herself into thinking she'd do it one day. She knew enough to know that she should feel guilty about this. Yet she didn't.

She knew she never would.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili listened to his younger sibling singing while he bathed. He himself had already had a bath, the blessing of being the older of the two.

Thorin's 'talk' had been brief, to the point, and disappointingly bereft of details. Fili grinned. How shocked had their uncle been when Fili and Kili both confessed they knew what sex was. After all, they lived above ground. Lived around livestock and farmers. How could they not know?

And yet some of it had been new. Like how female dwarves were born different than males. Not the obvious physical difference, but the need for closeness difference. Stone. It all came down to having been a race initially created from stone.

Male dwarves had certain body parts. Fili grinned as he remembered how Kili had blushed when their uncle had said the word 'penis'. Well, that part of dwarrows while physically was made of flesh ...it reacted like stone. Asleep. Some dwarrows had bodies that remained asleep forever, content to focus on their craft alone and ignore making a family.

But when a dwarrow fell in love, his body 'woke up'. Reacted.

Kili hadn't been the only son of Dis who'd been blushing when Thorin had started describing what their bodies would actually do when it was no longer 'asleep'.

"Does it poke out when you see Ainir?" Kili called out from his bath.

Fili grinned at his mirrored reflection. "No. You?"

"No." Kili yelled back.

The two had been doing this for over an hour, naming off every female they knew. It seemed neither of them had an 'awake' body part. Not yet.

Thorin had rolled his eyes and called them both idiots when they'd started. He said it would be decades, if ever, they would have to face this issue. Fili frowned as he thought of his uncle. Thorin wasn't married, had never been married. But at least he wasn't upset by that fact. Thorin said you couldn't miss what you'd never experienced.

The male anatomy for a dwarrow was basically, stone. Unresponsive. Unless in love.

"Tissec?" Kili called out to him.

Fili's mouth fell open with shock. "She's older than uncle!"

The splashing stopped. Kili's voice turned horrified. "What if you do fall in love with an older dwarrowdam? Will it still poke out like uncle said?"

Fili shuddered at the thought. "No!" He lied. Maybe he lied.

Kili's voice turned hopeful. "Really? You're sure?"

"I'm sure!" The older brother squared his shoulders, staring at himself in the mirror. He wasn't really sure. But he could be mostly sure, for Kili's sake anyway. "Now shut up and get ready, if we keep uncle waiting he'll leave without us!"

The splashing of bath water resumed with a vengeance.

Chuckling, the blond looked in the cracked mirror in their shared room. He could still remember their mother's consternation when a 'wrestling' match turned into a near brawl and caused the damage. There wasn't enough money for extras. So they made do with the cracked mirror.

He'd heard a human girl once say that a broken mirror was seven years of bad luck. Nonsense. They'd broken this mirror over seven years ago with no ill consequences. The worst things that had ever happened to their family had taken place before he or his brother were even born. Dragon.

Sobering, Fili's smile faded as he stared at his face. He got his eyes from his mother, but the rest she said was all from his father. Tonight was the naming ceremony for a brand new baby dwarrow. He couldn't wait! Food, dancing, singing, and a taste of ale no matter what mam said. But first, the ceremony, with all the males naming their ... their ...fathers.

Fili's eyes moved to the part of the mirror reflecting the door to the brother's bedroom. Across the hall was the bathroom, with dwarven plumbing. A bathroom. And his baby brother. Happily splashing away.

Shit. Shit and damn. Shit, damn and shit again. Fili bared his teeth in a snarl. He could name his father. Kili could not. And the dark-haired younger dwarf probably hadn't even thought about that yet.

Bad enough that Kili got teased for not having much of a beard, or being too tall, and slender, and almost delicate looking for a dwarf. It helped that his chest was hairy, even if his chin wasn't. Still and all, it was going to be a proper humiliation for poor Kili tonight.

Fili's snarl turned vocal, a rumbling growl. His attention turned back to his mirrored reflection. There was NO way he was going to let that happen, not to Kili.

But how to deal with it?

Every male dwarrow would name himself and his line, meaning his father. It was tradition, especially for the heirs of noble blooded families ...like ...oh.

Fili grinned and got to work.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You're bundled up tighter than a human." Thorin chuckled, watching Fili as they arrived at the dwarven meeting place. A large building on the outskirts of the human township. Very basic. Walls, plumbing, insulation, and ...well, dwarven basic varied from human basic. It was a quite comfortable space, but not luxurious.

Kili eyed his brother carefully. Fili had been ready to go before he'd started dressing. Even had his scarf wrapped around the lower portions of his face. "You getting a cold?"

Fili shook his head, pulling off his thick gloves first.

"Well, what do you expect? Tenol's a new groom, he got right to work the moment his body started waking up." Two dwarrows passed right by them as they spoke.

The comment had Thorin pausing, he shot a glance at Kili's face. The fifteen year old was blushing. He'd heard. "Ignore talk like that."

Kili mushed his lips together almost primly and shook his head quickly. Then he grinned. "You stopped before you could tell us HOW a male 'wakes up'."

Fili laughed, tugging off his cloak and shaking it off before hanging it up with the other cloaks. "Mam did tell us to talk to you, that you would explain it." He teased.

"I did explain." Thorin grumped, even if he had skipped over a few details. "And the rest you don't need to know yet."

Kili frowned for a moment, but couldn't hold the expression. He was too excited to be here. He was fairly bouncing up and down on his toes.

Thorin took all of their cloaks and tossed them toward a dwarrow who was hanging them all up on a triple row of stout pegs. He then looked over at where the kegs of ale were. "One drink, Fili. And your mam never need know."

The blond grinned outrageously wide. Kili's eyes grew huge and hopeful. Thorin sighed. "A sip. And I mean that. Just a taste."

Kili nodded vigorously as Fili pulled off his scarf. "I'll make sure he behaves." The older sibling said.

Laughing, Thorin turned to Fili in order to respond, and stopped suddenly. Staring at his first heir.

Fili grinned at him.

Kili looked up when he realized Thorin wasn't laughing anymore. He too glanced over at Fili, and then started staring. Wonder filled his dark eyes and suddenly he was laughing.

Fili's beard was gone. Trimmed down to a replica of Thorin's own shorter style. The only evidence that his beard had been longer was with the sides of his mustache, which now supported several beads.

Thorin tried to say something, stopped, then coughed. He pointed at Fili with a hard look. "Make sure your mother knows that I did not put you up to that. Fool." He narrowed his eyes on his heir. "And be damned sure that she doesn't smell ale on you tomorrow."

Fili gave his uncle a wide grin in acknowledgement, then he grabbed Kili's hand and made for one of the side tables. He watched as Thorin went over to join a group of dwarven elders. Once sure that the family patriarch was not watching, he snagged an ale, then another.

Kili sat down and stared as Fili downed half the first mug. The younger boy's mouth dropping open with shock. "Why?"

Fili grinned and winked "For you."

"Me?" Kili's voice squeaked a bit, then he grinned as Fili pushed the second mug over in front of him. "Really?"

"You may need it tonight." The blond sighed, then his smile faded into a more somber expressin. "Listen Kili, tonight. Follow my lead. No matter what, just do what I do."

"Why?" Kili took a cautious sip of ale, then made a delighted face. His next sip was more of a gulp. "This is really good."

Fili nodded.

"Lads joining us for the night?" Kili slid his mug an inch closer to his brother, making it look like it had been Fili's drink. They looked up into the face of a neighbor, one who was a tanner by trade.

"Sir." Fili and Kili both nodded.

The tanner eyed them both, then looked sadly at Kili. The dwarrow started to say something, stopped, and finally patted the fifteen year old on the shoulder. "Never mind. You'll be fine."

Puzzled, Kili nodded at the older male. He gave his brother a look of 'what am I missing here?'

Fili gave a weak smile of support.

The tanner's smile brightened, and he put a mug down in front of Kili. The dark-haired youth's eyes grew wide. The tanner put his finger over his mouth. "Just one won't hurt. Don't tell your mam."

Kili shook his head to show he would be complicit in keeping the secret from his mother. "Thank you!"

Fili watched the older male leave with a slightly shocked expression.

Kili drank his ale with a grin, feeling it warm him all the way down to his stomach.

Fili filched the mug from him and drained the remaining portion.

"Hey!" The younger brother straightened up in clear affront.

"I shared mine with you." The blond pointed out reasonably.

Kili grumbled, but settled back into his seat.

"You two look fine, fine!" A friend of Thorin's stepped by next, his work boots still gleaming wet from being outside. "About time we saw you at these things, Fili." He looked down at Kili and hesitated. "Your first time out for this kind of thing, yes?"

Kili nodded, wondering why the dwarf looked almost sad.

The dwarrow hestitated again, then smiled encouragingly. "Don't let it get you down." He put his mug down in front of Kili. "This will help, ya. But don't tell your uncle." He shivered. "Or your mam, right?"

"Right." Kili said with less enthusiasm. Something was going on, he just wasn't sure yet. After the dwarrow had moved on to another group, he looked balefully at his older brother. "He liked me yesterday."

"He likes you today." Fili grimaced, reaching over to snag the new mug of ale.

Kili beat him to it, wrapping both hands firmly around the full mug. "What?"

"Tonight might be a bit rough. Just ..." Fili sighed heavily. "Trust me."

The younger brother nodded immediately. He trusted Fili completely, he always had. Suddenly, he leg go of the mug his brother was still trying to take from him. Immediately the ale sloshed over the sides and covered Fili's hand.

"Kili!" The older brother snarled, wiping his wet hand on his tunic.

Taking advantage, Kili picked up the mug and drained it nearly half-way before his brother could stop him.

Fili grimaced and shook his head, taking the mug out of Kili's hands as the dark-haired young dwarf tried to stop coughing and sputtering. "Slow down."

"There you two are!"

Fili lost track of how many friends and distant relations stopped by their little table. Not all of them left ale for Kili, 'just because'. But more than a few.

By the time they'd been there an hour, Kili's head was on the table and Fili was leaning against it rather heavily himself. He'd drank as much as he could, to keep Kili's greedy little hands off of it.

"Why is everyone feeling sorry for me all of a sudden?" Kili's voice was low and Fili had to lean in to hear the question.

"Listen up, Kili. I need you to ..."

Fili didn't get to finish, as the stomping of boots signalled the start of the evening. The blond groaned and reached out blindly, taking a handful of his brother's dark wavy hair.

"Ow!" Kili protested as his brother pulled him upright.

"Shut up and make sure you pay attention to me and what I say, got it?"

Kili only managed to look confused even as he nodded.

Unfortunately, the confusion didn't last long. Around the room, each male dwarf stood one at a time. They didn't have time enough for a full recitation of bloodlines. This was a party! So each male named himself, a title if they had one, and the name of their father.

Kili's ale-fogged mind about shorted out. Soon it would be their turn. To stand. To name their ...fathers. "Shit!" Panicked, he pinned his eyes on Fili.

The blond nodded to him slowly.

Kili slowly began to calm down. It was okay. It was going to be okay. Fili had a plan.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Bofur knocked his mug of ale against Thorin's as he joined the small group of dwarves talking local politics. He wasn't related to the dwarvish prince, but they'd been friends a long time.

"Saw your nephew's beard." Bofur pointed out the obvious. "Takes after you." He didn't mention leaving a mug of ale for the two dwarrows, especially the one who was technically too young for it.

Thorin made a twisty kind of half-smile. "His mam will skin him alive when she sees."

"For that, or for giving young Kili ale?" Bofur pointed out, making a vague gesture over to where the two lads were seated. Again he didn't mention that he too had given the lad something to drink.

Perturbed, Thorin spun, his eyes narrowing on them. "Damn it." He tried to count the empty mugs on the table.

"Later." Bofur murmured. "They've started the naming."

Thorin glared at the two young dwarrows, only to sigh unhappily. They were ignoring him completely. Probably on purpose. They would both pay for that later. He had a whole list of odious chores with their names on it now.

Balin sidled up beside Thorin. "What are they going to do?"

Thorin grunted. He shot an evil look at his most trusted advisor. "All the dirtiest and grossest tasks I can find. Heavy lifting too."

Startled, Balin stared for a moment, "No ...I meant about ..."

"Too late now." Bofur pointed at the two heirs to Durin's Line. "They're going to have to name themselves."

Thorin shrugged, taking a long draught from his own mug of ale.

Balin sighed as Bofur frowned. "Who will Kili name as his father?"

Thorin froze, his mug caught mid-way coming down from his mouth. Uncomfortably he swallowed, coughing a bit as he did so. "I ...I didn't think of that." Why? Why hadn't he thought of that?

"Nothing to do about it." Bofur ducked his head and looked away. "It's their turn."

All of them stared as Fili stood up, his bearing straight and proud, showing off his new beard style. He grinned and looked out over the crowd. "I am Fili. I am the first son of Dis, and sister-son to Thorin known as Oakenshield. I am his first heir."

Murmurs and shock ran through the crowd. He'd not named his father, but had instead named his mother. His mother! The group looked on uneasily. Traditions were sacred to the dwarves, and this was bending them!

Kili stood next, looking so tall, and while broader than most humans, he appeared slender for a dwarf. "I am Kili. I am the second son of Dis, and sister-son to Thorin, known as Oakenshield. I am his second heir."

"Do you deny your fathers?" A bold voice barked out over the gathering.

Fili stood back up. "No. Never. But traditions state that higher bloodlines take precedence. Whose is higher than Durin's Line? Anyone?"

More murmers, more shifting of weight. A few grunts of both approval and disagreement. A father was always named, true tradition. But what the blond haired heir of Thorin's had spoken was also true. And Dis' bloodlines were far higher than her first husband. As for the second ...who knew? But chances were, she outranked them.

"Clever, clever lads." Balin nodded sagely. "Kili couldn't have done it on his own. It would have been clear he was hiding something. For Fili to do it first gives him credit."

Thorin sighed, his tension fading. "I hadn't thought. I didn't remember." He winced, thinking of the sheer embarrassment this might have caused Kili. And the entire family.

"Because you're Durin's Line, you can get away with this." Bofur said thoughtfully, and with some pride. "Fili has a good head on his shoulders."

"That head'll be knocking in the morning." Balin winced. "He's got another ale."

Thorin thought about it, then shrugged. "He deserves it, especially tonight. He deliberately shaped his beard like mine, then attached himself to me rather than his father. All so Kili could do the same with pride instead of shame." He raised his mug.

Thorin leaped onto the table next to him, standing before the gathered dwarrows. Silence filled the large room. The prince in exile lifted his mug high. "To my heirs."

"To your heirs!" Those around him drank deeply and with pleasure.

Thorin wasn't done. "To our ancestors!" He made a motion to Bofur, who handed him a fresh mug, which he drained.

"To our ancestors!" The yelling grew louder as every voice joined in.

Thorin looked at Balin, who unhesitatingly handed him up a third mug. "To our home under the mountain. To EREBOR!"

"TO EREBOR!"

Balin grinned, looking around the room and the flowing support for Thorin and his two heirs. It was a perfect moment.

Except for one thing.

"Dis is going to kill us all." Balin whispered, shaking his head as he watched Kili's head fall back onto the table. The same table that Fili slid down under, still grinning like a fool.


	3. In which discoveries are made, and also not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. The big reveal in this chapter. Hope you enjoy.

A/N: The big reveal is here. And I'm nervous! I really hope that you enjoy.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis looked at all three faces in exasperation and not a little anger. She tightened her lips, blatently upset as she stood in the doorway. "Do you know what time it is?"

Thorin frowned sharply as snow blew in around the cold, wet and tired trio of males. "I know it's a damned sight colder out here than it is in there. Let us in, Dis."

The dwarrowdam showed him her teeth in a rumbling growl, but stepped aside while holding open the door. Mortified, she watched as Fili and Thorin dragged Kili in with them, her baby's arms around their necks. His head hung down, his dark hair wet and streaked with snow.

Thorin stared at the wall is if he didn't have a care or concern in the world. On the other hand, young Fili flinched as his mother walked up beside him. He couldn't meet her gaze as she came close to inspect his new beard style and mustache beads.

But his heartrate really picked up when Dis moved to stand right in front of Kili. Fifteen year old drunken Kili. Dis bent down to look into her youngest's face. His nose and cheeks were red, and she knew it wasn't from the cold. "Where is his hat and scarf?" She asked very nicely.

Thorin's eyes closed. He hadn't thought to retrieve them for the trip home. The lad was at least wearing his gloves and thick cloak.

She looked right at Fili, and the young blond stood his ground. Barely. This was his mother after all. "Can you get both of yourselves upstairs to your room without breaking your foolish necks?"

Honestly, Fili wasn't sure. He hesitated.

Without a word, Thorin turned and headed for the stairs. Towing Kili, and by extension Fili as well. It was slow going, but they made the journey without injury or fall.

Thorin didn't tuck them in. He felt he'd done his duty when he all but tossed Kili onto his narrow bed and pulled his cloak and boots off. He turned and found Fili laying crossways of his bed, his head hanging over the other side.

With a grunt, Thorin pulled off his older nephew's boots and swung his feet until the lad was lying on his bed in the proper direction at least.

"Night. That was fun."

Thorin stopped at the door, a disconcerted look crossing his face. He turned and looked over at his younger nephew. The lad's eyes were closed, but a smile played along his mouth. "It was, wasn't it? Night lads."

Fili's mumble was near unintelligible.

Thorin headed downstairs, unmindful of the heavy tread of his boots on the floorboards. His nephews would soon be passed out or so deep asleep a ground tremor wouldn't rouse them.

Dis was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. Thorin didn't even pause as he walked right by her, heading to the shelving where his sister kept her linen. Taking a towel, Thorin opened the back door of the cabin and broke off a large icicle from the roof overhang.

"What have you got to say for yourself?" Dis demanded.

Thorin broke the icicle into pieces and wrapped the towel around them. He marched by her into the sitting room and sank into his favorite chair. He put the ice pack on his temple.

"I said, what ..."

Thorin interrupted her deliberately. "Don't talk to me. I have no desire to hear your voice." His voice sounded cold, almost cruel.

Dis reared back, crossing her arms in temper. "How dare you ..."

"How dare YOU!" Thorin snapped back.

The dwarrowdam circled around his chair to look at him, her face clouded with worry as well as anger.

The dark-haired prince pointed an accusatory finger at his younger sibling. "A naming ceremony. You basically pawned your children off on me with a naming ceremony."

"Where they weren't supposed to drink!" She screeched in outrage.

"WHERE THEY NEEDED TO KNOW THE NAMES OF THEIR FATHERS!" Roared Thorin.

Hissing in shock, Dis recoiled, a hand moving to cover her mouth. Her eyes wide with instant distress.

"So. You didn't think of that." Thorin's temper cooled a bit. "Neither did I."

Dis began pacing, her mind whirling with the implications. "How badly is he hurting? Did you take care of it? Is that why you let him drink? Honestly, brother mine, he's a baby!"

Thorin shrugged, rubbing the ice pack against the side of his head. "I didn't have to do much of anything. Fili took care of his brother."

"Fili?" Dis stopped, her surprise evident in her stare.

"Fili." The dwarven prince asserted. "First of all, he shaved his beard to mimic mine." He pinned his sister with a quick look. "And no, I didn't make him do that."

"It'll grow back out." Dis waved her hand as if telling him to get on with the story.

Thorin smirked at her. "No, I don't think he'll let it grow back out. Not after he went to so much trouble to align himself to me, in both outward appearances and naming a line through you, and me."

Dis drew back, utterly shocked. "He didn't name Nehili?" The very thought made her heart ache as if breaking.

"He is Fili. First son of Dis. Sister-son of Thorin and he named himself my heir."

Dis sank to the floor beside the fireplace, looing into the flames as if seeking something in their chaotic movements.

Thorin wasn't done yet, though. "Kili copied him, like I'm sure his brother told him to. It was a sight and a sound to behold."

She gave her brother a watery, weak kind of smile. "And then you let them drink themselves into a stupor."

"Whose son is he, Dis?" Thorin asked wearily. "What is Kili's line?"

He watched his younger sister, the only immediate family member he had left to him, as a tear rolled down one cheek. "I can't." She whispered forlornly, her hands pulling her thick robe even tighter around her. Whether her chill was inward or outward, he couldn't tell.

Thorin growled, then paused. "Fine. Don't answer that question. Instead, tell me something else." He put his free hand on the arm of his chair, the fingers drumming a quick rhythm.

Dis stiffened, waiting to hear what he was going to ask.

"Did he hurt you?" Thorin's dark eyes seemed piercing as he willed her to answer.

Dis sucked in a shallow breath, then exhaled as she spoke, her voice a near whisper. "No."

Thorin grunted, a bit ashamed that it had taken him fifteen years to even ask that question. "Is there a reason, any reason ...I mean, did he give you cause to ... Damn it all! Did he act shamefully?"

Giving her cause to leave him, she knew that was the real question. Truthfully she answered, "no."

"Why did you marry him?" Thorin tried that one next.

Dis watched her brother carefully. "Because Frerin was dead and you were getting ready to fight for Moiria. Because grandfather asked me to." Others too, but she didn't want to go into those particular details.

"If I had died at Moiria." Along with their grandfather, he didn't say that part aloud. "That would have left just you and Fili." Thorin sighed, he'd already worked that part out for himself. Obviously their grandfather had wanted more heirs, in case anything should happen.

Dis moaned, remembering that harsh time in her life. Death after death. Loss after loss.

"He loved you." Thorin sounded as weary as he felt. "He had to have loved you or his body wouldn't have 'woken up' to sire a child."

Dis' eyebrows rose at that piece of speculation. Maybe it had been a mistake to have Thorin speak on reproduction with her sons. Dwarrow reproduction.

"He wasn't uncaring." She lied without lying. Her second husband hadn't loved her, he'd been lost in his own grief. But he had never been unkind or harsh with her.

Thorin groaned, leaning his head back in his chair, he shivered slightly. Dis got up without speaking and stoked the banked fire back to life. The dark-haired princed watched his sister as she moved back into the kitchen, where he could hear her moving around. A few minutes later she was back with a strong mug of good dwarven black tea.

"Kili deserves to know the name of his father." Thorin said, his temper having cooled.

Dis pressed her lips together stubbornly. She looked away and then back at her brother. "He belongs to you. He is your second heir. It is more than enough."

Thorin grunted, thinking of his charming rascal of a nephew and his laughter that could make a whole room full of grumpy dwarves smile. "Mine?" It was a question.

Dis nodded firmly.

Thorin's face turned solemn. "Then he trains to be an archer, starting tomorrow."

Dis stood up abruptly, anguish in her eyes. "I've explained already my objections!"

The dark-haired prince gave her a lengthy look. "And I held back because of them. Kili isn't strong enough to be a master with the axe, and while more than decent with blades he is truly a wonder with his bow. Since you say he's mine now, then I decide on his training. He is great with a bow."

"For hunting!" Dis nearly wailed in denial. "Not as a main weapon to master."

Thorin sighed and pointed a commanding finger at his younger sister. "He named himself my heir. You agreed that he is mine. And as that is the case, he will start training formally tomorrow."

"It's not a proper weapon for a dwarf." Dis bit her tongue and turned away, lest her brother could read her expression.

Thorin waffled his hand back and forth and made a concilatory noise in his throat. "He's more than passing fair with the weapon, with the eye of a hawk." He smiled gently. "Fili is my lion, and Kili will be my bird of prey. My hawk. My right and my left hand."

Dis caught her breath painfully, still not turning to look at him. "You're dreaming of Erebor."

"Thinking, not dreaming. Planning, plotting, making strategies. Never a dream." Thorin's voice hardened. "But not now, not yet."

"You'll take my children on a fool's quest."

"It's their home too, even if they've never seen it yet." Thorin bit out the words harshly. "I thought you wanted this."

Dis nodded, finally turning to look at him. "I do. I just worry."

Thorin yawned heavily and sipped his tea, letting it warm him up. "Sister? Is there any shame in Kili's blood?"

"No." She didn't even hesitate.

Thorin nodded carefully. "Then as of tonight I am taking charge of the lad's training, both of them." Not that he hadn't been already teaching them, but more along what his sister would allow. Not anymore. "Blades for Fili. The bow for Kili. Secondary weapon training. Strategy. Strengthening."

Dis fought back her instinctive objection, because she was unable to tell her brother why she truly worried about Kili's primary weapon.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis smiled as she stirred the big stew pot hanging over the fire in the kitchen hearth. She sniffed, deciding the mixture needed a touch more of pepper. Only she was out of pepper.

The back door of the cabin opened with a screeching sound and the dwarrowdam winced. "Fili! I have asked you to mend that hinge!"

Kili grinned and stepped in behind his mam, towering over her by a good foot. He kissed the top of her head on the dark coiled braids only starting to hint at silver. "Wrong son!"

"Kili!" Dis spun and grabbed her youngest in a tight hug. "Oh, I wasn't expecting you for another few days!"

The cheeky dwarrow laughed and wrapped his arms around her, tightening his hug until she squeaked in protest.

"I thought I heard the sounds of rampaging beasts stampting through here. Kili!"

Fili swept into the cabin's kitchen with a wide grin and the two brothers reuinited happily, hugging and slapping each other on the back hard enough to drop a full grown stag.

Dis smiled happily. She hadn't liked not having them around. Fili had been escorting a group of humans to the next town as a paid guard. Kili had been on an extended hunting trip in the mountains.

Their mother eyed her sons with deep love, cataloguing every line, every motion, every expression. Fili, now filled out to a proper fine dwarrow, was at his peak at 82 years. Kili was the taller by far, yet more slender than his brother. Still, the years looked good on him and at 76 he was considered a full adult by dwarvish standards. "You're both still my babies."

Both brothers turned and grinned at their mother, laughing at her tender expression, but at the same time loving it as well.

"I've been back a day already, what happened to you?" Fili punched his younger sibling in the arm.

Kili never dropped his smile. "Was busy."

"Problems?" Fili's eyes sharpened with concern.

The younger brother's smile only grew. "Two stags, eight and ten points each. They took a while to butcher and clean. And to haul back."

"Nice!" Fili beamed proudly. "Could have used you on this last trip. Not used to not having you with me."

Dis sniffed, having been the reason Kili hadn't accompanied his older brother on this job. She had asked him to stay back this time, to 'help' her out.

"Oh?" Kili moved and leaned around his mother to sniff at her stew in appreciation.

"Saw some elves in the town." Fili shrugged. Which wasn't unusual for the area he'd been travelling in. "They were carrying these great long bows and looked so damned proud."

Kili sneered at the thought. "Uncle Thorin would have choked on his own tongue."

Fili slapped his brother's cheek playfully. "Wanted you to have been there, to challenge them. See how they stack up to a real dwarven archer."

Dis deliberately turned her back, stirring the stew slowly, and unnecessarily.

Kili blushed happily and held up his hands in surrender. "More likely you just wanted to see me humiliated. They're ancient, they've had a LOT more practice with their bows than I have."

The blond dwarf leaned in, the beads braided into his hair catching the glow from the hearth. "I wanted to see you wipe their noses in their false superiority!"

The darker haired dwarf shook his head and laughed, shrugging. "Wasn't there. You know mam said she needed me here. And I did bring in more than a fair amount of game while you were out having fun."

Fili groaned and shook his head, his blond braids keeping his lengthy hair out of his face. "Fun? It was boring."

Dis smiled fondly at her two fine sons, filling generous bowls of the plain stew for them. "Out of pepper, I'm sorry."

Kili shrugged, digging his spoon into his meal with true enthusiasm. "I've got plenty of furs to trade, mam. I'll pick you up some pepper tomorrow."

"Thank you." Dis nodded at her youngest.

Fili grinned, his mouth full of stew as he cocked his head toward the sitting room. "Letter from Uncle arrived today."

"News?" Kili mumbled, his mouth so full that Dis scowled at him and he dropped his head, abashed. Picking up his napkin as an afterthought.

The blond shrugged. "Haven't opened it yet, waiting for tonight."

Dis' hand, reaching to smooth back Kili's hair, hesitated. "I pray good news." She murmured. Thorin had gone west after hearing rumors of their missing father possibly wandering the area.

Sobering at the reminder of Thorin's mission, both dwarrows let their smiles slip away. They eyed each other over the dinner table, hoping that the letter from their uncle wouldn't be telling them bad news.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis stared out the cabin's window, unseeing in the darkness outside. Her heart was pounding with fear, hope, and something akin to panic.

Thorin's letter was clutched in her numb fingers.

"Where is Bree?" Fili poured over a map, scowling in concentration. "I can't find it."

Kili moved his brother's hand and stabbed at a point on the map. "Here!"

Excitement bubbled beneath the surface with both the young males. Their Uncle Thorin needed them! They were being called!"

Dis bit down on her tongue. It would do her no good to protest. And she couldn't claim that either lad had to stay home, not this time. She could hear the excitement and need in their rumbling voices. They wanted to go. They NEEDED to go.

And both were adults. Dis' mouth twisted with regret and worry. At least one was definately an adult. The other? Considering Kili's father, she wasn't exactly sure. Seventy-six, with a birthday less than a month away. For the first time she wondered what the lad's father would say sending him off on a quest like this. By dwarrow standards, he was old enough.

"Gimli will be pissing mad about this for years!" Kili crowed, thumping the table with glee. Their cousin was considered to young for this quest.

Dis' eyes closed in consternation. She'd rather Fili and Kili stayed home. But that wasn't the way of children. They grew. They made their way in the world.

And these two were Thorin's heirs. The Line of Durin. Durin's Folk. They really didn't have a choice, not if they cared for their people.

Fili rubbed his hands together with glee. "And this wizard? What's he like?"

Kili laughed and shrugged. "Who knows? But a wizard is bound to be good luck!"

Dis had nearly had a small heart attack when she'd read the part about a wizard, until she realized it wasn't the same person. This Gandalf wizard was named 'the grey'. The one that had officiated at her second marriage had worn a different color. White.

Still. Didn't wizards all know each other? She didn't know. Wizards were a mystery to her, and to most others as well.

"We are supposed to meet up in one of these five locations, where Thorin will leave word on where we will all gather." Kili sounded so enthusiastic that it made a mother's heart ache.

Fili clapped his hands together. "Uncle Thorin sent out loads of letters. How many do you think will answer his call?"

Kili shrugged. "This is a quest for Erebor. All of them!" Fili seemed to think the number would be less than that.

"When do you leave?" Her voice sounded raspy as she spoke her first words in over an hour.

Fili came up behind her and gave her shoulders a huge squeeze. "Not for a week at least. There are preparations to make."

"Don't worry, mam." Kili called out from the table holding the maps. "I won't forget to bring you that pepper, I'll make sure to pick it up in town while we're getting supplies. In fact, make me a list of what you'll need, it may be a while before we return."

A tear welled in the dwarrowdam's eye, but she refused to let it fall. "Thank you, my son."

As if being out of pepper was her greatest concern.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili nudged Fili, nodding his head at the spectacular view.

The blond nodded, his own eyes wide with wonder. Rivendell. The grand arches, the white stones, the seemingly tame waterfalls, all of it hard to catch in a single glance.

Off behind them, they could hear their uncle arguing with Gandalf.

Fili leaned over and whispered to his younger brother. "Mam will not be happy when she hears about this part."

Kili snickered in agreement. Their mother had never wanted to go anywhere near where elves might be visiting. This visit to one of their major residences? Beyond comprehension. "We won't tell her." He whispered back.

Fili nodded sagely, winking at the darker haired dwarf. "She never needs to know."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

One by one the dwarven company of Thorin Oakenshield passed by their host's seneschal, or whatever his rank might be. Lindir.

Maybe Lindir. Fili frowns. With the weird lilt in the voices of the elves when they say their words, he wasn't quite sure. "Yes?" He asks, as the elf in quesion turns to stare at him in curiousity.

Kili stops, watching his brother's interaction with the tall elf who towered over them all. Even Dwalin and Kili himself.

"Your braids." Lindir commented in his silky, metered voice. "Do they have meaning?"

Kili and Fili shared a glance. Elves could be curious? Wow. The blond nodded. "They have meaning."

Lindir walked around the blond haired dwarf, who tensed and tried to keep him sight as he was circled.

All of the dwarves tensed up, unsure of what to make of this male elf who moved quieter than a mouse and showed few expressions on his face. Not a wrinkle in sight, not even from the sun. "Will you share that meaning?"

Fili looked at Thorin, who frowned. The young dwarf shrugged. "It's not something we share easily." He side-stepped the issue, hoping the elf would pick up on his cue. Don't ask things we can't tell you, because you're not one of us.

Lindir, or maybe-Lindir, nodded slowly. He stopped behind Fili, who fought the urge to pull out a bladed weapon. "Do the beads have meaning?"

"Some of them." Dwalin stepped in to answer, relieving Fili.

"Indeed." Lindir nodded. "Thank you."

"At your ...ahem, well. You're welcome." Fili amended at the last moment. If he offered service to an Elf, what might that mean? He shot a puzzled look at Thorin, but his uncle looked no less enlightened than he felt.

The tall elf didn't move his head, but his eyes slid smoothly across the group of dwarves, studying their features. "Might I inquire as to your names?"

Thorin frowned sharply, but could think of no good reason to insult their hosts before Gandalf had gotten a chance to find out if Lord Elrond could or would help them read their map. Thrain's map. He nodded.

Bofur stepped up. "I'm Bofur. My brother Bombur, and over there is my cousin, Bifur." He pointed at each in turn.

"Dwalin." The bald and tattoo bearing dwarf grumbled out his name reluctantly. "My brother, Balin."

Lindir and the white-haired Balin gave each other small nods of acknowledgement.

Dori spoke up next, naming himself Ori and Nori as brothers as he shuffeled his feet, uncomfortable with being chummy with such persons as elves.

"Oin is my brother, and I'm Gloin." The bushy bearded dwarf went next, his voice a deep rumble of dissatisfaction and distrust.

"Fili ..."

"And Kili ..."

The two brothers bowed in unison.

Lindir looked at the two in question, looking from the bright eyed and bright haired dwarf over to the dark-eyed and dark haired dwarf. "Brothers as well?" He guessed.

Fili grinned. "He's the baby."

Kili made a face. "Only by five years."

The dwarven prince cleared his throat. "They are my nephews and heirs. I am Thorin Oakenshield. But then, you knew that." He nodded over at the smallest member of their company. "That's our Hobbit."

"The Hobbit has a name." Grumbled the personage in question. "Bilbo Baggins, of the Shire. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."

"And I yours."

Lindir's voice sounded cautiously pleased to Kili. But then with elves, no one could be quite sure of their true feelings. He wondered, did elves ever feel anything deeply?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Lord Elrond was contemplating. It involved no movement beyond the workings of his sharp mind. Thorin Oakenshield. With dwarven warriors. Leading them ...where? He didn't like the places that his mind was taking him.

Yet they had Mithrandir. And a halfling. What did that mean?

Thorin's voice came back to him, stating that his grandfather had never mentioned Elrond to him. Surely that was an untruth? Or was it? Had King Thror shared his plans with his grandson?

Would a grandfather do that? Or would he keep the counsel close? A question, a question. And did it even matter anymore?

Yes. It mattered. For if Thorin wasn't true, then what was the purpose of the lie? And if Thorin was speaking true, did that have a meaning as well?

A small sound came to him, the scuff of a soft slipper on the stones near the entrance to this private terrace. "Lindir?"

"My Lord Elrond." The seneschal bowed with deep respect, having waited at the curved archway until his presence was noted and summoned forth.

The stately and graceful leader of Rivendell nodded at the other elf. "Our guests are all settling in?"

Lindir's mouth tightened very slightly in some consternation. "Perhaps too well." He allowed. "The terraces given over to them may never be the same again. They request ale, but our supplies of that beverage are limited. They do seem fine with wine though."

Lord Elrond smiled slightly.

But Lindir didn't move away. He hesitated for a moment, catching his leader's attention. "There was something else?" The question was asked gently.

Lindir seemed uncertain. "The young blond dwarf?"

Lord Elrond thoughts moved to the dwarrow mentioned. He nodded, not having paid close attention. "Problem?"

"Small bead in his braids. It has a sigil on it." Lindir seemed puzzled.

"From wence?" Lord Elrond asked, his attention reluctantly pulled from more important matters.

"Rivendell, my lord."

His attention turned more towards his seneschal at that answer. "Indeed." He drew out the word and then lost himself in consideration. Finally he asked, "the sigil?"

"Just a horse, my lord. No request for safety, surety or passage. A token though." His mouth turned slightly downward for but a second before smoothing back out.

"Elrohir?" If Lord Elrond was startled by this connection, he hid it behind a mask of smooth politeness. "But he has no love or market with dwarves."

Lindir bowed, making no comment. "I don't know that it matters, but the dwarf in question is the nephew and perhaps heir of Thorin, their leader."

"Their king-in-exile." Elrond corrected gently, surprised by this bit of information. "Never mind. I know who gave the bead to the dwarf. A matter of many years ago, I do believe he was no more than a child at the time."

Lindir bowed again, backing away with respect and leaving his own leader to his thoughts.

Elrond filed away this small piece of information, having solved the minor mystery of the bead. He could remember the day that his son Elrohir had pulled the simple token from his own lengthy hair. Not for himself, no. But for Elladan.

Did the young dwarf know the significance oh his token? That he might request aid or succor from the elves and be reasonably sure of his reception? Most likely not, Elrond mused quietly.

Did Mithrandir?

Elrond thought that one over, and decided probably not as well. The events of long ago had been secretive at best. And he knew Saruman wasn't fond of oversharing information.

The idea that seemed so outlandish now, had seemed so plausible then. Elrond's son Elladan had lost his only love to an orcish raid in the mountains as she travelled. King Thror's granddaughter had lost her husband in one of the many battles the dwarves had faced since their exile.

The dwarven king needed another heir, in case Thorin fell or his grandson didn't live beyond childhood. He was facing the end of his direct bloodline.

Elrond had been desperate for a way to keep Elladan from fading. For not only would he lose his son, but he feared for the boy's twin brother. The two were so close. If Elladan faded, what was to keep Elrohir from following?

He wasn't proud of pressuring his son into marriage with a dwarven princess, but hoped that a child born from the union would help to anchor his son to this world.

The idea may have seemed less than sane, but when Saruman had approached him, he could only see the light of the Eldar fading from his son's eyes. Saruman had made it sound so very reasonable, and a chance to unite all three major races. Human and Elven through the father, and a direct blood connection to Durin the Deathless on the side of the mother. He'd agreed.

No child had come, of course. And the dwarven princess had fled after her grandfather's death. But perhaps the effort of trying to stay within the world had worked, for Elladan, while deeply grieving for many years ...had not faded.

Something had held him here, and for that, Elrond was beyond grateful. Even if his son had lost much of his humor, and would sometimes stare off into the mountains with such sadness.

So even without a child, the marriage seemed to have worked. Even if it hadn't lasted. Not that it mattered to Elladan, he would never love again. Once in a lifetime, that was the Elvish truth.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Lindir moved around the kitchens, directing the staff on what to do and serve for their guests. Busy in mind and body.

It never occurred to him to think that he hadn't mentioned to Lord Elrond that Thorin's heir had a younger sibling.


	4. In which travels begin and a journey continues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the reviewers for their comments and encouragement. Thank you to all who chose to read, and I hope you continue to enjoy.

Dori seemed apprehensive as he and the other dwarves listened to Gandalf's plan. "But it's plain rude to leave without acknowledging our host, or thanking them."

"Better to be rude than to be stopped." Nori replied, nodding at the tall wizard in their midst.

Thorin looked at his people, pinning each one individually with a gaze before moving on to the next dwarf. Finally his gaze settled on their dimunitive burglar. Bilbo looked uneasy. "I agree with Gandalf, this will be the best way. We have to be at the Lonely Mountain before the end of Durin's Day. We can not afford to be delayed."

Ori made a reluctant sound and Balin frowned over at him. "Sneaking out seems so ...so ..."

"Sneaky?" Kili piped up, grinning like a loon. He held a handful of grapes, popping them one at a time into the air in order to catch it with his mouth.

Dwalin spoke up, his voice dry. "Kili's ready to leave since none of the elf-maidens will flirt back with him." The next grape that the young prince tossed into the air, the tattooed dwarf caught in his fist.

Thorin's eyebrows rose at that and Kili lost his grin, shaking his head. "No, no." The young dwarf prince tried to look innocent even as he shot an uncertain glance at Dwalin.

"Your mam would have your head, and then mine." Thorin muttered darkly.

Gandalf stepped forward, looking earnest. "You won't be sneaking out of Rivendell. It's not possible by any road. You will just pack up and leave, without word."

"Walk right out?" Dwalin scoffed. "And they'll just let us?"

Thorin nodded, his gaze fierce as he laid out the plan. Again. "If we tried to sneak out, we'd fail. But if we simply leave, as if we have every right, and the guards haven't been told to stop us ... then we're out."

"And the guards won't have been told to stop us?" Ori asked, still uncertain.

"Lord Elrond will be with Gandalf, discussing ...things." Thorin let out a sharp breath as he rubbed the back of his neck. "The grand Elf Lord won't suspect, or expect, us to leave without word."

Fili looked over at Gandalf, his expression suspicious. "I thought this Lord Elrond is a friend of yours?"

"He is." Gandalf allowed. "Oh, he is. And I sincerely hope he will remain such. But I feel that he is going to try and talk me out of our quest." The tall wizard smiled almost benignly. "I happen to think this quest is very important and should not be halted."

Dori scratched his neck as he thought it all over.

Thorin stood, growling in the way he had that drew attention. "This is not up for debate. Gandalf is heading out shortly, to meet with Lord Elrond. As soon as they are meeting, we are leaving." He made a smooth hand gesture on the last word, a sweeping move that drew every eye.

"But what about Gandalf?" Balin asked the obvious. "He won't be with us."

"Which is why none of them will expect us to leave." Thorin said with a hint of a smile.

"Oh! Because we wouldn't dare leave our wizard behind!" Kili grinned happily at his conclusion.

Gandalf sighed a bit. "Exactly so, although I'm not your wizard, youngster."

Kili threw a last grape high in the air, catching it in his mouth as he laughed.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Lindir apologized to Lord Elrond, he had not thought to close the paths out of Rivendell. He did not blush, but he was a bit put off about having to deliver this news not only to his own leader, but other august company.

The White Council was silent, outwardly. Galadriel was peering at Gandalf the Grey, an indulgent half-smile gracing her beautiful face. While Saruman the White was staring with a blank expression at the morgul blade that he'd just denied could belong to the Witch-King.

Elrond turned to look at Gandalf, who managed to look both abashed and yet strangely pleased with himself. "They go to their deaths."

"Perhaps not." Gandalf rejoined. "It is dangerous, I will admit."

Saruman snorted in his high-handed manner. "Dangerous you call it? Suicide. That dragon will awaken and be angry. Those dwarves won't be enough to slake the dragon's temper. And then the dragon will be unleashed, then what will you have wrought?"

"Do not underestimate the dwarves." Gandalf replied evenly.

"You overestimate them." Saruman was unconvinced.

The Grey Wizard sighed patiently, always respectful to the leader of their order. "If you fear for them, help would be appreciated I'm sure."

Elrond's mouth twisted and he shook his head. "Glorfindel would test his strength against a dragon."

Galadriel tilted her head toward the elf who had married her daughter, Celebrian. "My dear Lord Elrond, Glorfindel would test his strength against stone itself if the opportunity arose."

Lindir continued to hesitate by the archway, but refrained from interrupting his leaders or their guests.

Saruman made a vague motion dismissively at the elven seneschal. "The dwarves should be stopped. Their mission is one of fools."

"Should they be stopped?" Gandalf asked in his humblest tone. "That dragon is a menace that could be turned into a weapon against us."

"By an enemy already long vanguished." Dismissed Saruman the White, his voice ringing with authority and surety.

Galadriel turned and looked outwardly, as if enjoying the view. She was not.

"Do you see anything, my Lady Galadriel?" Lord Elrond asked softly.

"No." The Lady of Light's voice was ethereal, her tone almost wistful. "There will be death, there will be life, but whose I can not say." Her voice trailed off, as if there was more but she was not ready to speak further.

Saruman stood, his posture fairly regal as he gave Gandalf a disapproving look. "Why waste your time on fools?"

"Perhaps I am a fool as well." Gandalf answered mildly.

"Perhaps you are." Saruman acknowledged.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Bofur had first watch, which was good. Because Kili was still feeling a bit shaken. It was one thing to be brave for yourself, it was another entirely to fear you'd lost your brother.

Fili laid out his blankets, using his pack to cushion his head. Kili moved next to him, doing the same. They laid there for several long minutes, back to back in their cold camp because Thorin had ordered no fires.

"I'm fine." Fili finally muttered.

Kili nodded, even though he knew his older brother couldn't see him. He hadn't smiled since he'd watched Fili trapped with several others of their company, stuck on a ledge that wasn't a true ledge but part of a great stone giant.

Fili, feeling the tension in his younger sibling, sighed and rolled over. He eyed the back of Kili's hair. "You need a wash."

Kili gritted his teeth.

"When you were flirting with the elf maids?" Fili leaned in and whispered next to his baby brother's ear. "Did it poke out?"

The long familiar joke had a snort of laughter escape Kili's mouth despite his best efforts.

"It did, didn't it?" Fili pushed against his shoulders. "I'm going to tell mam."

Kili snorted and tried to swallow his laughter, his shoulders shaking with effort. "No! No it didn't."

Fili reached out and briskly rubbed his sibling's shoulder before rolling back on his other side. "Get some sleep."

Nodding, Kili felt better. Fili was always there for him. And the ache he'd felt in the center of his chest when for those brief moments he'd wondered if his brother had fallen began to slowly recede. "I won't rest well until we're in Erebor."

Fili grinned up at the cavern ceiling. "Erebor."

The other dwarves around them added their voice to the quiet pledge. Except Bombur. He was already snoring.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Lord Elrond felt ...unsettled. He watched as young Estel pointed out various plants in the garden to his tutors.

"The lad grows tall." Galadriel moved silently for one in long robes, almost the embodiment of light that she was sometimes proclaimed.

The indulgent foster father looked at his charge, all of around ten years old. "He does indeed."

"Arwen is a delight to the senses." Galadriel offered the sentiment with a soft smile of her own. "I sorrow that I felt it necessary to leave her in Lorien for this visit." Speaking of her beautiful granddaughter, and Elrond's only daughter.

Elrond nodded, knowing that Galdriel had not intended to stay as she had for the past several days. What had been meant to be a short meeting of the White Council had turned into something else entirely.

"Mithrandir is away." Galadriel said, a question and not a question. She already knew the answer.

"Saruman left but an hour after." Lord Elrond said, and then he paused. "Do you believe the old enemy has found a way to return?"

Quiet fell on the duo as they watched young Estel try and explain the differences in two types of flowers, and why they were important. Elrond knew his question had been heard, and he knew better than to succumb to impatience.

"I have no answer for that." Galadriel said quiety some time later. "Possible, probable, fear and hope. They cloud me."

Surprised, Elrond turned and gave the mother of his wife a long glance. It wasn't often that Galadriel confessed to feeling confused on a matter.

"There is a shadow. A veil." The Lady of Lorien continued. "Death comes, but then death always comes."

Elrond nodded, his features carefully schooled. "Perhaps since you have stayed already, you could wait but a day or two more. Elrohir and Elladan have sent word, they will be here soon."

The clouds passed as Galadriel smiled with true warmth. "How are my daughter's sons?"

"Elrohir is strong and well." Elrond said quietly. "Elladan remains quiet, but he is still with us."

Galadriel nodded slightly, her eyes moving around the lovely garden. "I would greet them before I leave."

Elrond bowed his head to her, pleased.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili maneuvered so that he was next to his brother as they stood before the Goblin King, listening to his awful singing and self-praising.

Kili stood tall, his eyes seeking out possible weapons and escape routes. Beside him, Fili was doing the same.

The Goblin King looked over them all with undisguised greed. His eyes fell on Kili and he twisted his head as if in thought. "This one is almost to pretty to be a dwarf."

Kili's fists clenched at the insult. Fili's hand on his shoulder made him settle down. Abide. Wait for opportunity.

Like a wizard.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"My Lady Galadriel!" Elrohir's usually stoic expression broke apart as he gifted his grandmother with a genuine smile. "It makes my heart sing to see you so well."

The Lady of Lorien squeezed the tall elf's hand and in Elven she offered a more traditional greeting. "A star shines on the moment of our meeting."

Elladan stepped forward, taking Galadriel's other hand. His head bowed simply and if he didn't smile, there was real warmth shining from his gray eyes. "Ever is thy sight a joy."

"I wish it were a joy, truly." Galadriel calmly looked at Elrond as she held Elladan's hand. "Your hand is cold my child."

"My soul is chilled." He murmured. "But it warms upon seeing you once again."

Once again Galdriel shared a common glance with Lord Elrond, their worry over their mutual love for the tall young elf prince binding them ever together.

Elrond tried to throw off his concerns, offering a meal to his sons after their long journey back from the northern reaches.

Elrohir settled himself on the balcony railing, comfortable as he felt the breeze tease him while sipping his very fine wine. "A dear vintage for our return?"

Lord Elrond gave a real smile of indulgence. "Our kitchens are stretched, recovering from recent visitors."

"Oh?" Elladan asked simply.

Surprised to have his son take an interest, Elrond nodded carefully. "Dwarfs."

Elladan stilled and then shrugged lightly.

The elven father looked over at Elrohir, who gave a mere twitch of his mouth. Lord Elrond decided to push slightly. "Indeed. Thorin Oakenshield and his company, off to reclaim Erebor for his people and face a dragon."

Elrohir's eyes widened very slightly. "A ...noble quest."

"A foolhardy one." Elladan sipped his wine, little appreciating the fine vintage. "How large a company."

"Thirteen." Elrond said dryly. "With a halfling."

"Do not forget the wizard." Galadriel pointed out with some humor.

"Mustn't forget Mithrandir." The head of Rivendell bowed in acquiesence.

Elrohir gave a derisive sound and finished off his wine. "They go to seek their graves then, with so few."

Elrond paused, his eyes seeking out his quieter son. "Thorin, son of Thrain said that his grandfather never mentioned me to him. Could that be correct?"

Elladan looked up, and then considered the question for a long moment as Lindir moved into the family gathering and gestured for servants to place food trays out on a low table.

"Possible." Elladan allowed. "From what I recall, he was not a part of the past. King Thror seemed quite serious about keeping things secret, even from his own advisors. He might not have shared this with Thorin."

"That was my take on it as well." Elrond nodded. "It is unfortunate that Thorin had his heir with him though. His nephew. Lad still had the bead you gifted him in his hair."

At this Elladan frowned. Which might have seemed bad, but it was a signal to those who knew him. They were more worried about when he didn't react, a smile or a frown, at least those were signs of being in this world. "Fili? He would be what, 82 or so by now?"

Lindir bowed as the servants finished laying out the fine meal. He started to leave.

Elrond held up one hand and his seneschal paused. "You saw more of the dwarven company than did I." The elven lord stated quietly. "Thorin's heir, his name was Fili?"

"Indeed. A strong looking young dwarf, blond with a neatly trimmed beard." Lindir said quietly. "And a bead braided into his hair of Rivendell."

Elladan let out a long breath and sighed. "He'd be an adult by now. When I knew him he was a bright lad of four. Into everything."

Elrohir smiled as he waved off an offer of a second glass of wine. "I remember him."

Elrond suddenly chuckled. All eyes turned to him and he shook his head slightly. "All the dwarves left without word, slipping away lest we try and stop them."

"Leaving?" Elladan gave a wry twist of his mouth. "Yes, that sounds about right for the little I know personally of dwarves."

Elrohir frowned, remembering the brief message the dwarven princess had left for his brother when fleeing back to her people.

"I am sorry that Fili will be on this journey, for I have my doubts about their success." Elladan spoke more words at that moment than he had since he'd arrived back in Rivendell. "He was a sweet child."

All the elves fell silent for a moment, for their kind was known for loving all things fair and beautiful. And children. Children were not that common amoung their kind, especially for a race as long lived as the Elves. What children they had, they cherished.

Elrond finally broke the silence. "Erebor is their home. For seeking that, I can not hold them at blame. Though I would wish it otherwise."

A few nods of understanding as Lindir waited by the archway. "Is there else, my Lord Elrond?"

"No, many thanks Lindir." The Elf Lord smiled.

Lindir bowed, but before he left he spoke quietly. "I am sorry that the dwarves slipped away. I did not post guards on them."

"I did not ask you to do so." Lord Elrond responded with a great deal of respect for his companion who had served as his right hand for many a century. "The fault is mine."

Elrohir snorted almost inelegantly. "The fault lies with Thorin Oakenshield and his pride. Hoping to win back a moutain from a dragon with so few. Dooming his heir as well."

"Both heirs." Lindir said with regret.

Elrond frowned slightly. "As far as I know, Thorin had one heir." He looked at Elladan and then at Elrohir.

"A nephew, son of his sister. Dis." Elladan said his wife's name for the first time in decades. "Fili."

Lindir considered the words, running through his memory of the dwarves. "And Kili. A darker lad in coloring, but brighter in spirit. He was something of a flirt with our ladies while he was with us."

Galadriel didn't move, but her voice held a hint of ...something. "Brighter in spirit?" That was definitely a question.

Lindir frowned, not having meant to interrupt a family gathering. "It seemed so to me, my Lady."

Elrohir frowned, then shook his head. "Fili had no older sibling, of that I am sure."

"No. A younger brother." The elven seneschal gave not a frown, but a soft downturn of his lips. "I believe by five years, if I recall the conversation correctly."

This gave everyone pause. Lindir had an excellent memory for what was said, whom was whom, and a thousand other small details.

Elladan looked up at his father with a true emotion on his face for the first time since his love had perished in the mountains. Anxiety mixed with fear, anger ...and a touch of hope. "It can not be."

"It might not be." Elrohir's mind was racing. "I call Estel my brother, but he is not by birth." Mentioning their father's foster son, the missing king of Gondor who was nothing but a child at the moment. One protected by the Elves of Rivendell.

Elladan's face fell slightly as he nodded. "Truth."

Galadriel's voice seemed unhurried, and unaffected. "Lindir? I recall you have some artistic abilities?"

The seneschal blushed prettily and bowed to the Lady of Light. "Very small abilities, my Lady."

"I need a drawing, as detailed but as quickly as possible." Elrond's voice wasn't unaffected.

Lindir did not wait to be dismisssed, he turned immediately to carry through on the request.

"Father, they couldn't ...they wouldn't." Elrohir didn't want to say aloud what each was already privately considering.

"Lindir said the lad had a brighter spirit." Elladan spoke as if to himself. "No. They wouldn't bring this Kili here, if he were other than what they purport."

Elrohir turned and grabbed the railing on the balcony, his knuckles showing the white of effort. "Thorin brought him. And if Thorin didn't know about ...you ...then ...perhaps?"

Elrond didn't bother speculating, he turned to the mother of his deceased wife. The Lady of Light. "What can you see?"

Galadriel waved one hand in a graceful movement that for all her elegance still meant for him to shut up. Elrond waited, but his usually legendary patience was more than a little thin at the moment.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili and Kili looked relieved to see their halfling friend, sighing happily. "How did you get out of the goblin caves?" They asked more or less as one.

They didn't really get a satisfactory answer, not with Thorin stepping in.

Still in all, it was a good ending to another great adventure. Only, they weren't even half way there yet.

Trolls. Elves. Stone Giants. Goblins. What next?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elrond and his twin sons were still out on the terrace. Galadriel was lost within herself, staring out at the vista of Rivendell, and yet not seeing it at all.

The twins were arguing over small details, trying to see if they had a flaw in their logic. They were having little luck.

If not so on edge over this question himself, Lord Elrond would have been more than pleased to see young Elladan so engaged. And yet ...wasn't that the point?

If Elladan had a son out there, a living off-spring. Even if he didn't know about it, could it have kept him from fading? Most likely ... not. Celebrian had faded after her twin sons had rescued her from Orcish imprisonment. Unable to carry on in this world and leaving him with three children and a saddened heart.

On the other hand, Elrond had always believed that it had been his children which had anchored him to this world after his wife faded. Or so he'd always thought. That and his mixed blood. Humans didn't fade of a broken heart, like the elves.

Lindir had mentioned 'a brighter spirit'. Did that mean in personality, or had he been sensing a spark of the Eldar within the male child? With the outer looking dwarven, no one had bothered to look inward.

As if thinking of his seneschal summoned him, Lindir moved quickly back onto the terrace. He had a roll of parchement. But there was no place to put it.

Impatient Elrohir swept the table clear of plates and food and glasses. Shattering several on the stone flags around them. Elrond frowned but did not reprimand his more impulsive son.

Lindir unrolled the parchment, spreading it out over the table. It wasn't one sketch, it was several.

Kili, smiling. Kili looking around in awe. Kili winking at someone. And the last one, Kili with his head thrown back in laughter.

Elladan blinked, tracing each line with his gray eyes. "His eyes are darker and shaped differently. I ...don't ..."

Galadriel drifted over to look down at the sketches, the males all made space for her immediately. "He looks like my kin, only with darker coloring. The eye shape is both my father's and also my daughter's."

"His coloring would be from his mother." Elrohir sounded uncertain.

Galadriel reached out and traced the lines on the paper, a finger following the sketch of Kili as he laughed. "The Golden House of Finarfin now has a darker rose within it's halls."

Elrond took in a deep breath, his eyes searching as he stared at the Lady of Light. "You are sure?''

She inclined her head. "I looked into his future. It is veiled from me, just as is my own and my immediate kin."

"Thorin and his other heir?" Elrohir begged the question.

"Blood. Death. Pain."

Elladan stood, no longer a mere shadow grieving. Now he was a thing of anger and purpose. His gray eyes flashed as he looked at his twin. No words were exchanged between them.

None were needed.

"We ride." Elrohir's jaw tightened with resolution, spinning his heel yelling for the servants, his voice echoing off the gentle halls of the elves. "WE RIDE!"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	5. In which rulers choose

Elrohir came from his suite, his armor in place and his weapons in hand. His stoic face set in lines of steely resolve. Immediately he was joined by his brother, also ready.

Despite being so well armored and armed, neither made much of a noise as they fair glided through the wide and arching hallways. They drew many a startled eye, as any number of elves had gathered after hearing Elrohir's shouting to make ready their war mounts.

The twin sons of Lord Elrond drew to a halt in the main courtyard of Rivendell, near the glittering fountains making merry music as the water splashed the stones in a mockery of their mood.

Lindir stood there with several other elves, each holding the reins of large and spirited horses. Their mounts were specially trained and already packed for swift travel.

But there were more than two such horses.

Elladan looked at the number of horses, his eyebrows rising.

Glorfindel, the golden warrior, ancient and proud walked right between the twins completely unmindful of their startlement. "I have heard we have a stolen treasure to retrieve."

"You hear much." Elrohir stated dryly, but with a pleased smile. "We have not asked for assistance."

"Against a dragon? Tsk." Glorfindel's long golden hair caught the breeze as he gave a fierce grin. "I'd like to see you stop me from accompanying you my princes."

"We take no such titles." Elladan's frown was sharp. "But we will take your sword without argument. If you ride as a friend and not as someone we command."

Glorfindel's eyebrows rose in surprise, and pleasure. He had not heard more than a few words at a time from Elladan in many a year. "Welcome back, my friend." He shot a hopeful look at the other twin.

Elrohir couldn't help the gleam in his own eyes as he too watched his brother. He hoped beyond reason that they could find and rescue this lad Kili, and that he was indeed the nephew he was hoping for.

"There are more horses." Elladan said sharply. "But we have no time to spare. We leave. We wait for none."

"Not even I?" Lord Elrond strode up, his fine robes replaced by his armor. Not the resplendent showy armor, but his fighting set. No less impressive or awe inspiring, but less jewels. He pulled on his riding gloves as his purposeful stride brought him to his large bay stallion.

"Father." Elrohir started to speak.

"I have failed. I took no more than a passing interest in our guests other than Mithrandir and Thorin Oakenshield himself. If I had, would this journey even be necessary?" Lord Elrond looked at neither of his sons as he mounted his steed. "I will not fail again."

Hinnin drew abreast the twins, and then past them, fairly leaping upon his horse. He adjusted the great sword at his side, then glanced at Lord Elrond. Beside him two more mounted, Caduras and Lutheron both childhood friends of the twins.

Elladan gave a grim smile and a terse warning. "Dragon."

"Son." Caduras grunted, raising his great shaped horn and blowing a loud blast. "We heard."

Elladan sent a long stare at Lindir, who met his gaze without shame. "My only regret is that I not ride with you." Said the Rivendell seneschal, a wonderfully talented elf, but not a great warrior.

Elrohir leapt upon his own steed, a beast of limited patience who few could control other than he himself. This son of Elrond had no equal when it came to equine skill.

Nuluin hurried forth, adding another pack to his mount. Flashing a nervous grin before mounting competently enough, but with less grace than the others.

Lord Elrond looked askance at the healer. "This will not be a pleasure ride."

Nuluin grunted, his usual grouchy self. "And it will be no pleasure to let down the Lady." He frowned and flicked a piece of lint off his armor, which Elrond knew that the other elf hadn't worn in at least three centuries.

"Lady Galadriel sent you?" Elladan at last mounted his own horse with a smooth motion, then taking his long bow from the elf holding the reins for him.

"The Lady rides with you." Galadriel spoke, startling more than a few. It seems that her horse moved as quietly as she did herself at times. She moved up to sit next to Lord Elrond who was staring at her with deep consternation.

The beauteous Lady of Lorien had changed from her fine gowns to travel clothing, breeches covered by a split tunic long enough to reach near her knees. Her golden hair shimmered as she moved as one with her steed.

Alarmed, Elrohir frowned, unable to stop himself. "Mother of our mother, we ask humbly that you rethink this course." Elladan nodded his agreement.

All of the great elven warriors looked uneasily at each other.

Galadriel smiled. It wasn't a kind smile. She nudged her horse forward, in the lead. She raised one hand in the air, as if ready to take command and lead the group forward. The great Elven ring of power, Nenya, was usually invisible upon her hand. Unless she wished it. Suddenly it was if a star graced her finger, making all the males draw back a bit. "If you think you have the strength to stop me, you have forgotten who I am."

This startled a smile out of Lord Elrond as he sent his horse after hers without comment. The twins followed next, side by side.

Glorfindel yelled forward. "Just promise to leave the fighting to us, please my Lady?"

Her voice trailed back to them, strong and sure. "No."

Caduras grunted beside the celebrated warrior. "I'd wager on you against a dragon."

Hinnin nodded. "But not against the Lady of Lorien."

Elves didn't usually pout. At that moment, Glorfindel came close.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili closed his eyes and groaned while Kili laughed, looking every which way.

The large eagle which bore the two brothers upon its back rode the wind currents, almost without effort. Gliding for a lengthy seeming time, before beating its muscular wings.

The contraction and relaxation of those muscles made Fili and Kili lurch. A curse and a whimper from his older sibling had Kili grinning. "This is fun!"

Fili cracked open one eye and immediately felt dizzy. With great dismay he saw that his brother had put his arms out, feeling the air as it whipped past them. Risking much, he let go of his death grip on the feathers of the eagle's back with one hand and grabbed Kili's arm, pulling it back. "Don't be an idiot!"

"We're flying!" Kili's laugh, usually contagious, left his older brother unmoved.

"Can you see if Thorin is alive?" Fili groaned.

Sobering, Kili leaned over to look, making the blond dwarf clutch frantically at him lest he lose his balance. "Don't do that!"

"I ...I can't tell." Kili admitted, much of his enthusiasm fading. "I can't tell if he's moving or not.

Fili looked over at Gandalf atop another eagle, looking majestic and completely unafraid. "THORIN?" He yelled, pointing.

The wizard didn't seem to hear him.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"The way is blocked." Elrohir's temper had his voice turning harsh. "Stone giants have been through here recently." He yanked on the reins of his horse as the largest steed fought to turn away from the large boulders.

Elladan cursed in elvish, his gray eyes flashing.

Lord Elrond inwardly seethed as he considered the options. "There is another path." He pointed north. "It will take two hours to get there."

Glorfindel frowned, breaking the perfection of his elfish features as he rode forward, heading north. "It is good there is a way, but we will lose their tracks."

Elrond glanced at Elladan's tense features, giving him a reassuring nod. "But we don't need to follow their tracks. We know their destination."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili kicked the ground with his large dwarvish boots, not even trying to hide his grin. "Give me ground under my feet, not feathers under my ass."

Kili snickered. "It was fun though."

Several dwarves turned and stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. Dwalin took a partially playful swing at his head. "Daft you are, lad."

Thorin, who had not been awake during the trip, shrugged. "We're getting closer." He pointed at the Lonely Mountain in the distance with a certain amount of reverence. "Forward is home."

"The Kingdom Under the Mountain." Dori nodded, more than happy to get his feet on the ground again. "Not OVER the mountain." He grumbled, peering into the sky to watch the giant eagles fly away. "Not that I'm not grateful, mind ye."

Kili laughed loudly. "We're alive! We flew on the backs of giant eagles! We're close to the Lonely Mountain! What's so daft?"

"You are." Grumped Gloin, hiding his hands in his tunic, until they stopped shaking. He thought nothing of dangling over a mountain side or climbing down into a deep mine. He was even on his way to face a huge fire-breathing dragon. But riding a wild creature in the sky? No.

Ori smiled tentatively. "The breeze felt good."

Balin shuddered at the thought. His hands were still cramped from hanging on.

Gandalf took his great staff and pointed at a direction, setting off. One by one the dwarves followed.

Fili pushed his younger brother in front of him, still shaking his head at Kili's youthful enthusiasm. "Don't worry, once we get to Erebor, we don't have to go outside the mines unless we want to."

In front of his brother, Kili's smile faded. He looked around the mountains, trees and finally at the sky. Suddenly he was not quite as at ease. "What if I want to?"

Fili laughed and pushed his brother forward a bit. "Don't worry, we'll let you out to hunt if you want. But we're dwarves! Don't you remember uncle's stories of the grand life underground?

Kili's smile returned as he nodded. He had adored the stories of Erebor growing up. It was their dream, and his. Good mood restored, the dark-haired prince's pace picked up. He couldn't wait to get to their destination.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"These mountain passes are not safe." Nuluin the Healer looked around the area, uneasy. His fingers tightened upon his reins.

Elladan's voice came out sharper than he'd intended. "Nothing on this journey is safe."

"Indeed." Elrohir agreed, watching his twin carefully. His brother's tension seemed to be rising. He nudged his horse forward until they were riding next to each other. "Brother?"

Elladan pressed his lips together, not speaking.

But no one could ever know you as well as your twin. Your mirror. Elrohir waited patiently.

"What if he's not as we think?" Elladan asked, doubt creeping into his voice. "What if he is not mine?"

Elrohir nodded, as if considering the thought. After a moment he nodded toward the front of the column of elves. "I dare you to tell the Lady Galadriel that she is wrong."

The elven warrior, broader of shoulder than most elves due to his partially human heritage, gave his twin a reproachful look.

Smiling, Elrohir shrugged. "Kili. That's not an elven name. We will have to find something more appropriate once we meet this son of yours."

Startled, Elladan shot his brother a quick look from his gray eyes. His fingers twitched upon the reins ever so slightly. The large roan stallion rolled his eyes, but never broke stride. "Son." The elf warrior tested the word upon his tongue.

Elrohir nodded. "Nephew."

Behind them Glorfindel shouted. "Prince." Making both twins shake their heads.

Nuluin made a motion for silence, looking around the area. "Goblins haunt these passes."

Hinnan gave a half-sneer. "We will destroy any that get in our way."

Glorfindel gave a huge mock sigh. "No. We have the Lady of Light with us. Nenya will keep us protected."

Reminded of the Ring of Power, Nuluin sent a nervous look up the column where the Lady rode. Her beautiful golden hair shot through with the pure silver of starlight, shining like a living thing.

"I just hope it doesn't drive off the dragon before I get a chance to fight it." The ancient hero proclaimed.

Ahead of them, Lord Elrond sighed as they heard Glorfindel's words. "He could have gone to live in the Mirkwood with Thranduil." He murmured to the Lady riding beside him.

Galadriel's mouth tilted upwards with a quirk of a smile. "You should be nicer to Thranduil."

"His pride is always touchy." Elrond spoke evenly, his tone giving away nothing of his feelings.

"His? Glorfindel or Thranduil?" Galadriel seemed amused.

Elrond gave her a half-smile. "A halfling recently told me that it was not wise to seek the council of Elves. For the answer will be both yes, and no."

Golden eyebrows rose with true humor. "Halfling height may not be full measure, but their wisdom seems to be." She nodded, allowing the statement to stand.

Elrohir rode up behind the two, pointing at a large outcropping. "We make good time."

Elrond nodded. "Let us hope it will be good enough."

His son shook his head. "The dwarves left on foot. We are riding. We will find their trail, and if not we will meet them before they reach their destination."

"Do not rely on false hope." Elrond admonished his son gently. "They have Mithrandir. I have no doubt they are further along than we know."

Elrohir shrugged. "Even with a wizard, they still have to traverse the countryside same as we." He gave a soft laugh. "It's not like dwarves can fly."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin looked around the dimly lit area, the smell of stray and stock animals heavy in the air. Everything here was large scale. Not Human large, bigger than that. And not Elven, not with the heavy and functional lines. The Elves were too fond of beauty for anything so prosaic. He wondered at their 'host' that Gandalf had hinted of.

The dwarves were all settling in, exhausted. Thorin himself could feel the fatigue welling up inside him. He just couldn't afford to show it.

A dwarf passed next to him and Thorin put out his arm, turning his head to see his younger nephew. "Kili? You are unharmed?"

The dark-haired prince gave his uncle a wide grin. "Nothing but scratches from tree bark."

Thorin rolled his eyes as Fili walked up to join them. "Ignore this fool. He thought riding the eagles was grand fun."

"You are unhurt as well?" Thorin asked, his gaze measuring on his two heirs.

Fili shrugged with easy movements and shook his head. "We're fine uncle. We were worried about you." That was a mild rebuke for jumping out of the tree to attack the orcs on his own.

Kili shot a glance over at the others. "Bilbo surprised us."

Thorin snorted with a gentle chuckle. "Surprised all of us." He admitted. From his position leaning against a strong post, the king in exile straightened. He put a heavy hand on each of his nephew's shoulders. "Despite the hopes, this quest will not get easier from here."

Both brothers sobered, nodding their understanding.

"I can't be uncle and king at the moment. I have to choose until we have retaken Erebor."

Fili straightened, his posture upright and sure. "King."

Kili echoed his brother with much feeling. "King."

"Good." Thorin grinned, patting each on the shoulder before stepping back. "Get some sleep. We haven't had much of a chance to talk, and I wanted to tell you both something."

Both brothers nodded.

"Nephews or not? The next time I tell you to watch the ponies, watch the damned ponies!" Thorin grinned and turned, heading off to speak with Gandalf.

Kili shook his head. "We don't have the ponies anymore." He deadpanned deliberately, pretending to miss the point.

Fili rolled his eyes and shoved his younger brother in the side.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"How?" Glorfindel asked, sliding from his over-tired horse gratefully.

Elrohir was already unloading his own steed, ready to transfer the gear over to the fresh mount waiting for them. "We ride with the Lady of Lorien. Don't ask what can not be answered with ease."

Elladan gave a grim smile, swinging his leg up and over his mount to drop with supreme grace to the ground. He wasted no time as he too began to unleash his gear and supplies.

An Elven warrior of Lorien held the reins of a fresh mount. Elrohir murmured his thanks as he moved his saddle over.

Off on the other side, Elrond glanced at Galadriel with gentle reproach. "Lorien is too far, they couldn't have come so far to meet us so quickly."

Galadriel gave a slight nod with her head, to show she understood. "They were in the north woods. There are shadows about."

Elrond blinked twice in reaction. "Does this have to do with Mithrandir's idea that the foe of days past has returned?"

"The wizard is not the only one who worries." The Lady of Light said with more casualness than she felt. She looked up, catching Lord Elrond's eyes. "Do you not feel the shadows growing closer?"

"What I feel is not yet given shape." Elrond allowed. "But I do not yet know the name of what is causing these feelings of unease."

Galadriel smiled gently. "It is good that they were here."

Elrond inclined his head graciously. "Fresh mounts will be of great assist." He paused and almost hesitantly made a suggestion. "You could turn south from here." Toward Lorien.

Galadriel gave a small chuckle. "You who was my daughter's spouse. Do you as yet not know which parent she took after the most?"

"Celebrian was a gentle, kind, wise woman without peer." Elrond couldn't help the sadness her name brought him, and the fond memories.

"Indeed." Galadriel moved into the saddle with ease, showing no sore muscles and no hesitation. "She was her father's daughter. Do not forget that when you are dealing with me."

Lord Elrond couldn't help the quiet laugh that escaped him, as his wife's mother gave him an amused and fond look. "You are gentle and kind."

Galadriel turned and looked in the direction of the Lonely Mountain. It was not yet in sight. "I am that only when I rule. And right now, I am not a queen, a lady, or a leader."

Elrond looked up at her on her mount, curious. "What are you?"

The golden haired elf looked down at him, all the strength of her personality giving weight to her gaze, making Elrond lose his breath for a moment. "I am determined. This child of Elladan's, he is of my line. He will not be lost." She urged her horse forward, leaving the others to catch up.

 

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I wanted to get to Erebor this chapter. Yeah, no. Soon though!


	6. In which songs are sung and questions arise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for all the kind support on this story. Just a quick note, because I forgot to the last chapter. Galadriel, Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir and Glorfindel are from Tolkien. The other elves riding with them are OC's only because I don't feel the Rivendell elves would let them ride off all on their own without support. Also? This chapter has been re-written three times over and I hope it works. Battles are not always easy for me to write. Hope you're still enjoying. Thank you!

"Does it poke out for her?"

Kili's eyes went wide and his face suddenly felt hot. Well, hotter. He was pretty sure he still had a fever anyway. "Don't." He hissed at his older brother, his eyes moving over to where the red headed she elf was standing just outside the door. She was staring off at the sky.

Probably at the stars.

The same stars that she had been telling him tales of, as she wiped his brow and held his hand. The pain was far less intense now, more like that of a normal wound. But he hadn't stopped her as he'd laid there listening to the tale of Elenlote, a bright piece of star longing to touch the rich soil. It was a sad tale, where the star could no longer shine surrounded by the soil, but that the nourishing ground had so loved the star that a flower grew that rivaled the sun for brightness. Nonsense really. But he'd loved to hear the rise and fall of her words with that odd accent of hers.

Tauriel. Beautiful and glowing herself. Kili was also pretty damned sure she'd saved his life. He couldn't figure out why though. She'd been one of their captors back in the Mirkwood. Only she wasn't glowing now, more like frowning. A lot.

"Well does it?" Fili looked down at his younger brother's lap, making Kili shift uncomfortably.

"No!" He protested. And it was true. His body wasn't undergoing some strange arcane change around the pretty elf. It was also true that he felt almost disappointed about his lack of physical response. He liked her. He'd liked talking to her, though he would have liked it better if he hadn't been behind bars in Thranduil's cells for part of that time, and sore wounded for the other part.

"You keep staring at her." Fili pointed out almost hesitantly, reluctant to bring up his brother's nearly incoherent declarations of only last evening. Did Kili remember?

The dark-haired young dwarf frowned over at Tauriel. "Something's wrong."

Fili straightened up, alarmed. "Your leg?"

Kili shook his head, utterly irritated. "Look at her. She knows something's wrong."

Tauriel turned to stare at the two brothers. "There's light in the sky over Erebor."

The blond frowned. "Dawn?" He guessed.

Bofur sat up from where he'd been pretending to sleep, pushing his hat up so they could see his eyes. "Dawn isn't going to be for another hour at least."

Tauriel looked at Fili and Kili, her expression grim. "They woke the dragon."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elrond woke, silently moving to his feet. The elves had taken few rest breaks on this long journey, but some were unavoidable no matter Elladan's objections each time.

Their horses were nearly spent, and there would be no more fresh mounts to find this far from friendly places. They themselves needed little sleep, but they did require some.

He found Galadriel standing at the edge of camp. Elrond walked over to her, unmindful of the rough ground, it was a small matter. Stopping next to the Lady, he waited for her to acknowledge his presence. If she were 'seeing' it would be beyond mere rudeness to interrupt, and the knowing could be lost.

"The dragon ..." The Lady's voice was usually lovely, but now there was a lyrical quality that told him she was indeed lost in the throes of vision. "flys."

Elrond held his breath, waiting.

"Anger rages, pride trembles, vengeance will be borne on the wings of flame and destruction." Galadriel didn't blink, she stood watching into the darkness, separate from her sight and yet part of it as well. "Hate. So much hate. Fear is for the lesser. Death is for all."

The elf who was actually sitting watch turned his head slightly. Hinnin looked back at their sleeping companions, and then over at Elrond. The Lord of Rivendell gave a quick nod of his head.

Immediately Hinnin moved through camp and woke each one. No sound was made as he did so. The elves, already on alert, woke silently and aware. They rose one at a time, moving to their horses. The steeds hadn't had enough rest, but it would have to suffice.

Glorfindel gave a soulful look at Lord Elrond, a question in his eyes.

The grandfather turned away. He didn't have an answer to give. Were they too late already? Was Kili already dead?

The were riding out in less than ten minutes.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I'm satisfied that you're healed, but you make too much of it." Thorin sounded cold, but then, he had much on his mind.

Kili bit his tongue. Bitter words caught before they could be uttered. He breathed deeply, trying to organize his brain in order to make his uncle understand. "I don't mean that the Elves deserve anything, clearly they can make no claims on Erebor."

Thorin grunted, his attention elsewhere.

"But in recognition of saving my life it could prove worthy to at least listen to what they have to say." Inwardly he was shaking, putting himself forward like this. Usually he was in tandem with Thorin's will and it felt odd arguing like this. "It might prove more beneficial to be at least on speaking terms with our neighbors."

The King Under the Mountain looked up in amazement, then he grinned. But his face was without humor and his grin seemed more feral than anything else. "Saved your life? An arrow to the thigh? Yes, you were weakened but hardly so near death. The young make heavy what should be lightly done."

Kili looked down, not wanting his uncle to see his eyes at the unfairness of his charge. "It was a bit worse than that." Was all he managed.

"So Fili and Oin maintain." Thorin waved one hand in dismissal, then stopped. He pinned his younger heir with a hard look. "Did you not think that I saved your life? Leaving you behind? Could you have outrun the dragon through the halls of Erebor with your wounded leg?"

"No." Kili acknowledged, definitely not raising his head now. He didn't want Thorin to see the hurt he knew would be there for any to see. "But I would have welcomed the chance to try."

Some of the hurt must have leaked out, as Thorin paused. Kili could 'feel' his uncle's stare upon him. "Lad. I know your loyalty as I know your heart. But I had to think of the mission over family. And it worked, we're here. Erebor. Home."

Not my home. And it had been his mission too. Kili bit his tongue harder. He'd been raised on stories of Erebor, but it had never been his home. Raised to think he had a place at his uncle's side. "Yes, sire."

Thorin turned away, his arms behind his back in a regal stance. "I will not entertain one word from the Elves, nor the Men. Did they ever help us? When we were homeless? When we were hungry? When we needed aid, where were they?"

Kil knew better, but his tongue sometimes had a mind of its own. "The men are not the same ones as back then, several generations have come and gone. And they fought, and slew the dragon."

"And so deserve WHAT?" Roared Thorin. "They protected their sinking Lake Town, and they managed to win. Let them rebuild, let them taste the hunger that we dwarves tasted for so long. But they will not get one jot of help from us! We give what we have been given. Equal measure!"

Kili's face was white as he looked up, eyes wide.

Thorin moved in close, shouting into his nephew's face. "You are too soft! Sidelined from our quest by a single wound, why I've fought with worse wounds against mightier enemies. You want to be kind to the Elves and Men? Write them a poem of thanks, and then burn it! That's all gratitude is good for! Soft is weak. Soft is useless. Soft will not make you a dwarf worthy of being called by Durin's line."

Unable to speak, Kili gave a rough bow and when his uncle made a gesture for him to leave, he swiftly made his escape despite his still healing limp.

Thorin wheeled around, settling himself on his grandfather's former throne. His temper still burning, he snarled. Glancing over at Balin and Dwalin he gave them the full weight of his stare. "Do you question my response to the Elvin King? Do you think me too hard on the lad?"

Balin gave a smooth bow of his head. "I would not question your decision. But perhaps we could at least listen to what they have to say before we cut off ties?"

It was the same arguement that Kili had just made, but it didn't come from a dwarf with no discernable beard this time. Thorin eyed his counselor and sighed. "Perhaps." But he didn't sound convinced. Instead he looked at Dwalin.

The warrior stood with his arms crossed, his face giving away no expression. "I have no love of Elves and don't care how or when you tell them to get out of our lands."

Thorin smiled and let his eyes drift away, moving his gaze over the immense pile of gold the dragon had amassed.

Dwalin though, wasn't done. "And yes. You were too hard on the lad." He'd spoken with Bofur, and knew exactly how close to death young Kili had come. And the debt the dwarves owed to a certain red-haired elven lass, whom the dwarves were pretty sure had acted without orders. Not only that, he knew that Thorin had been so informed as well.

But Thorin was no longer listening, all he could hear was the call of his gold.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elrohir rode quickly up to the waiting Elves as they watched the columns of humans heading the other direction. "They are from the town of Dale."

Lord Elrond frowned, uncertain. "Dale was destroyed."

"They are rebuilding, now that the dragon is dead." He let that bit of news sink in.

Glorfindel actually groaned with true disappointment, his eyes closing with something akin to pain.

Hinnin slid a disparaging look at the ancient hero. "That dragon has been asleep beneath the mountain for over a century, it's not like you were out here demanding a duel."

The others ignored the two bickering back and forth about the suitability of fighting a dragon.

Elrohir looked back and forth between his father and his mother's mother. He then turned to the overly anxious Elladan. "As far as they know the dwarf king and his heirs are entirely intact."

Soft sighs of relief moved through the group and Elladan's gray eyes looked skyward for a brief moment.

"They slew the dragon after all?" Nuluin the Healer asked in amazement.

Elrohir seemed bemused, cocking his head to one side in wonder. "No. A human archer, name of Bard."

Glorfindel's eyes widened and he caught his breath while Hinnin laughed at the mighty hero's expense.

The Lady of Lorien made no move, but something about her caused the group to fall silent and look in her direction. "Why do the Men leave Dale then? Why this course away from their reclaimed home?"

Elrohir took a deep breath, and gave a weak smile at his father. "King Thranduil and the army of Men march against Erebor, wanting recompense for hurts received from the dragon's wrath."

"King indeed." Galadriel's voice was without inflection, but all the elves could feel her disdain for the pride in claiming such a title.

"Ride against Erebor?" Elladan questioned, his gaze sharpening.

Elrohir nodded as her turned to the Lady of Light. "The dragon is dead. Does this change the vision you have seen for Thorin and his nephew?"

"Fili." Elladan provided the name with a curious emphasis for one who hadn't seen the lad for almost eighty years.

Galadriel looked off to the Lonely Mountain looming so closely. She stilled and shook her head. "Blood. Death. Pain. The vision remains unchanged."

"So the danger was not the dragon." Elrond spoke thoughtfully, looking over his shoulder at the departing humans. "We can not be waiting, speculation brings us no closer to our goal."

The twins shot each other hard looks and without another word kicked their steeds forward in a surge, leaving the other elves to follow.

Kili was alive, yet still in danger.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin looked out over the collected armies of both Men and the Mirkwood Elves. He'd already made his speech to each of his dwarves, and with any luck their kin from the Iron Hills would be arriving before long, led by his cousin Dain.

He turned and stared at his most trusted friends and followers. Not one blinked in the face of such an army amassed against them.

Thorin stepped forward, putting his hands on Fili and Kili's shoulders. He looked proudly from one to the other. "I know that I have been hard on you both. The burden of our blood has never weighed more heavily than it does now. We are Durin's Folk. This is our home. We have battled the entirety of Middle Earth to reach this far, we can not fail."

Fili drew up with pride. Kili's chest expanded, his earlier doubts and concerns erased. This was Thorin. His King. His Uncle. And in every way that counted, his father.

Come what may, neither he nor his brother would leave Thorin's side until victory or death.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The sounds of battle reached them before they crested the hill allowing them to look down at the scene before them. Metal on metal clashing as screams of pain and terror blended together in a terrible cacophony.

Lord Elrond looked with a worried heart upon the melee, his breath catching within his lungs as they ceased to work properly. Beside him Elladan stared with shocked eyes.

"This is not the battle we were told of." Elladan's voice held deep concern. His father ached to reassure him, but did not have any words that would not be a lie.

Instead of Elves and Humans facing off against Erebor's Dwarves, there were Wargs and Goblins swarming the area. Large packs of fanged beasts were tearing through flanks and ripping through rapidly forming lines of soldiers. Confusion was everywhere with knots of elves, dwarves and humans fighting not to get cut off from each other and overrun.

Giant eagles wheeled in the sky, swooping down to tear apart battle formations and occasionally drop a warg or a goblin from a great height.

Elladan's gray eyes searched, but could not find that which he sought. "I can not see him. I can not see him!"

Lord Elrond's heart sank at the despair he heard in his son's voice. This would have been much easier if the dwarves were on one side instead of this pandemonium.

"There is Mithrandir." Lutheron and Caduras both pointed at roughly the same time. But where the tall wizard was fighting, he was closer to the humans than to any group of discernable dwarves.

"Look! He's trying to get over ...THERE!" Elrohir pointed grimly at a small rise of craggy rocks. Atop was a dwarf with long dark hair beneath his armored helm. The armor was a product of days gone by, beautiful and made of the most precious ores to be found. Armor for a king.

There were three with him. Two armored dwarves and a slight red-haired elf, spinning and fighting too fast for them to get a good look.

Before any of them could react, the group was near overwhelmed on the far side of their outcropping. A rushing attack by the three dwarves pushed back the assault but left their flank outnumbered. They were effectively trapped. Cut off.

Dwarves, Elves, and Men were trying to reach them but there were too many standing against them. And it was clear they didn't have long.

Even as Elladan and Elrohir urged their mounts forward, dark arrows pierced one of the three, forcing him down onto one knee. Who it was, none could see beneath the armor's helm. The other armored figure rushed forward to offer aid, only to be knocked away by the swing of a war hammer into a throng of goblins and wargs. He disappeared from sight.

Elladan roared and took his own bow as his mount surged forward, shooting his way through the goblins, riding them down without mercy or concern. By his side rode Elrohir, matching his pace perfectly, his sword flashing in the sunlight and already dripping with goblin blood.

Ranging out to the sides just behind the twins, Glorfindel and the rest of the elven warriors cleaved their way through the fighting masses. Forming a wedge for Elrond and the Lady.

Galadriel rode between the warriors, lifting her hand gracefully before her. Power simply radiated off of her, pulsing like starlight brought to life. Wave after wave flowed over the fighting crowds as that power sifted through until it found what it sought. Dwarven blood.

The Lady did not wish for any to fall, but her goal was ruthless. The protection of her Ring would swell over the Elves and Men, but first ...it found the Dwarves.

Without reason that they knew of, the dwarves suddenly found themselves protected. Blades slid away or broke instead of drawing their blood. Fangs shattered upon the touch of their flesh, rather than tearing into them.

This strange new thing spread from dwarf to dwarf, causing the goblins to become confused. The fighting slowed, giving the Men and Elves a chance to breathe and regroup. It was then that a few goblins realized they could hurt no one, and still be slain themselves. Panic set in among the horde.

And still that power searched, unable to distinguish one of their blood from another. Thus it was that all the dwarves found themselves under the protection of the great Elven Ring of Power.

Elrond stirred uneasily beside her. This was a blatant use of Nenya, more than he'd seen Galadriel ever use in a single hour, ever. The ring was powerful, but at what cost? The Lady of Light was almost without equal, but was her strength alone enough to keep this up?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili had lost his breath and his vision. Sweat and blood covered his face as he tore off his helm, desperate to see. But looking up into the face of the ugliest goblin he'd yet seen, tumors growing off the side of his face, the young dwarf decided seeing might not be the better option.

He barely had time to raise his sword in a weak blocking move as the rough goblin weapon whistled down to crush his skull. Something shattered, sending out sharp pieces in every direction. Expecting pain, Kili felt nothing. Blinking rapidly he tried to clear his vision.

Ugly was still standing over him, but now staring at the remains of his weapon. Unbelieving, the young dwarf realized that it wasn't his head that had shattered, but his opponents weapon.

A hand came down for him. Slim, creamy skin, and reaching for him. He took it without question. Tauriel pulled him upright and Kili ignored the swimming of his vision and the pain in his chest as she tugged him back up the rocky knoll.

Kili paled as he saw Fili down and wounded, arrows decorating his beautiful armor. The blond looked at him and then rolled his eyes toward their Uncle Thorin. The king was swinging his sword and yelling at the mobs of goblins still trying to get to him, seemingly uninjured.

Thorin screamed in the faces of the goblins, cutting them down as they tried without success to stab him back. A wave of goblins fell over the King Under the Mountain, making Kili rush forward despite his own injuries.

"Wait." Tauriel commanded, then stepped back as Thorin began to throw off the goblins one and two at a time. "They can not touch us."

"I think I'm seeing double." Fili moaned, pulling his younger sibling's attention back to him. The blond had managed to pull himself up to sitting somehow, staring off at the retreating and desperate goblin hordes.

Kili spun too quickly, looking in the direction his brother indicated. Wincing as his vision didn't stop spinning when he did. His hand reached out automatically, trying to find something solid. He found a goblin at his side trying to bite him. So he let his sword find that goblin's side.

When Kili next looked up, his hair fell in his eyes. He'd obviously torn off the clip holding back his hair when he'd removed his helm. Swearing, he pushed the dark waves out of his way, and stared.

Double? More like twins, mirror images of each other. Each on the back of a large horse, one with a bow and the other with a sword. Each motion was an economy of grace and power, bringing down foes left and right without fail. Behind these two great warriors were several Elven warriors, shining with lethal brightness as their weapons cleaved goblin and warg flesh down to the bone and marrow. Nothing touched them. Nothing could.

Kili felt rather than saw his uncle move up beside him. "Friends of yours?" The young heir asked, awed.

Thorin shook his head, unable to speak. The son of Thrain was having a difficult time, for during the battle he'd come to terms with several salient facts. The first being that he was not going to live another day. The second being that he'd been a fool. This army of wargs and goblins would have overrun him and Erebor, even with Dain's army swelling their ranks.

This kind of ferocious attack would have annihilated them, should have annihilated them. If not for the concentrated efforts of combining their forces with both Men and Elves.

The help he'd tried to turn away turned out to be the only things helping his dwarves to survive.

"Kili, I'm sorry."

Startled, the young dwarven heir turned away from the elves making their way over to them. He stared at his uncle in wonder.

Thorin cleared his throat, uncomfortable. But he knew, he knew. If not for some magic of the elves protecting them, he would have lost everything in life that mattered. And it wasn't a mountain. Or a treasure. "You and your brother are all that I could ever ask for."

"Uncle..."

Thorin leaned in close. "I have never been prouder of you both."

Kili swallowed hard and nodded, looking over at where Tauriel was helping Fili with the help of Oin who'd been able to reach them at last.

Beside him, Thorin shifted his weight and Kili turned back. The elves had arrived.

Thorin stared at the group for a long moment then bowed his head to the tall elf approaching them. "My Lord Elrond, little did I think to see you out this way."

But the Elven leader of Rivendell doesn't respond. Kili shifted his own weight, blinking his still blurry vision and wondering why it felt like everyone was staring right at him.

Slowly the elves parted as if in unspoken unision. How did they manage to do that? Kili wondered, trying to take a deep breath, but it was hurting too much. He'd have to get Oin to check him out after the healer saw to Fili's injuries.

Thinking of his brother had Kili sneaking a glance behind him, relieved to see Fili arguing with the healer and Tauriel. Behind them he was even happier to see Gandalf gain the knoll, and approaching their group.

"My dear Elrond, good it is that you are here. I have fell news." Gandalf spoke, his voice more weary than Kili had ever heard before.

He blinked several times, trying to focus better. Where was Gandalf's hat? Why was he so battered? Yes they'd been in a battle, but he never thought he'd see the wizard in this kind of condition.

Yet the Rivendell leader still made no comment. Surprised, Kili turned back to look at the elves and lost his breath entirely.

"Elenlote." He whispered, his brain supplying the name from the Elven legend that Tauriel had told him back in Lake Town. The piece of living starlight fallen to Middle Earth.

The lady moving up beside Elrond was grace personified. She was all gold with flashes of silver that weren't real silver, and in Kili's exhausted state really seemed like living starlight. She glowed. Not like Tauriel had done when she'd healed him, but so much more than that. Whomever this was, she radiated light and strength.

Kili leaned toward her without thought, as if drawn forward. Only Thorin's hand on his chest kept him from stepping forward.

The Dwarven King scowled. He didn't like the way all the elves were staring at his younger nephew.

"Elrond?" Gandalf sounded puzzled. "My lady?"

None of the elves looked toward either Thorin or the wizard.

Kili's feelings turned to deep unease. Unreasonably he began to think they wanted something from him. Him. Not Thorin or Gandalf. He shot his uncle a glance and saw that Thorin's jaw was clenched.

"Kili, lad ...go to her." Gandalf's voice was quiet, cautious.

"No!" Thorin snapped, his voice commanding. "Stay where you are, Kili."

The wizard shook his head, looking odd without his great hat. "I don't know what this is about, but they will not harm him. And your very lives today are because she willed it."

Thorin ground his teeth together, but didn't drop his hand.

"You nearly condemned your entire line to the Halls of the Fallen today, do not be any more a fool Thorin Oakenshield!" Gandalf snapped. "The Lady of the Light is not your enemy, do not make her so."

Hesitantly Thorin's hand dropped and Kili stared up at his uncle's profile until his king gave the slightest of nods.

Kili stared at the elves. They were staring back at him. Something in their gazes, something warm and yet needy. He still didn't move forward.

The golden lady held out one hand to him. Without motion or expression, he was absolutely sure she was beckoning him forth somehow.

Reluctantly Kili looked at her and could feel only love, warmth and kindness. And it frightened him on a very basic level. He didn't trust. He glanced wildly behind him, finding Fili's wide eyes on him looking pale. His brother shook his head at him, obviously uneasy as well.

He next looked at Tauriel, who seemed as confused as he felt. Still the elf made a shooing move at him, as if telling him not to hesitate further.

Kili looked back at the lady. "What do you want of me?" He took two steps toward her against his better judgement.

"Gandalf?" Thorin's hand clenched on the handle of his sword.

"Be still." The wizard cautioned. "I do not know what is happening, but I trust these elves with my life."

"It's not your life I'm worried about." Thorin growled, his eyes on his nephew.

"Kili!" The older brother called, beyond nervous and wondering what the beautiful elf wanted with his sibling.

Kili stopped in front of the beautiful elf, unsure. Slowly, gracefully, she raised her hands and he flinched slightly. She smiled and reached in, pushing his hair from his face. Staring into her eyes, he calmed. It was if she could see deeply within him to his very core. All his nerves calmed and he marvelled at the sense of peace.

Then the lady frowned slightly, and it was if the sun became clouded. The day was no less pretty, but the brightness had dimmed. "You are injured child."

Kili had been ignoring the burning in his chest and the blurriness of his vision. But with her words the pain returned with a vengeance. His knees nearly buckled.

Thorin rushed forward to catch him, only to draw up short as a golden haired warrior stepped directly into his path. Armed.

One of the twins reached Kili first, lifting him in his arms with ease. Kili batted at the hands, embarrassed. "Put me down." He wheezed, his lungs seizing with an aching pain.

"Where?" The Elf pointing a sword at him asked, startling Thorin. Oh. He wanted to know where to take the injured Kili. The Dwarven King pointed at Erebor.

Without awaiting permission, the elves moved swiftly off the field of battle toward the dwarven home.

Thorin stared after them with wide and worried eyes. He turned to Gandalf. "You have strange friends."

The wizard too was feeling off kilter. He had news to share with both Galadriel and Elrond, but they had shut themselves off from him. Why? And why the focus on young Kili? "Yes. But never forget, that includes you too Thorin Oakenshield."

"King Thorin."

Gandalf paused, then followed after the elves back to Erebor. "Indeed."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili was barely awake as the elves stripped him of his armor and clothing. Nudity was not a taboo among the dwarves, but he couldn't help but feel over exposed with only elves looking down on him. He pulled a sheet up over himself, which only seemed to amuse them. Especially the golden haired lady.

"Where's Fili?" He asked anxiously, his earlier sense of calm having fled on the trip back to Erebor. Embarrassed at being caried like some child in front of the Dwarven warriors.

Lord Elrond moved around to look deeply into Kili's face, a soft look of wonder gracing his features. The young dwarf realized that the mighty elf lord was careful not to get in the way of their healer.

"Father?"

Father? Kili watched the two twins who kept hanging over him. These two were Lord Elrond's sons?

Lord Elrond sat down on the edge of the bed, looking no where but at Kili's face. "You may have a difficult time with this, but you will never be alone."

Difficult time? "How badly am I hurt?" Kili asked worriedly, his dark eyes widening.

The healer shook his head. "Not terrible. Concussion, bruising, cracked ribs and some bleeding on the inside but it is stopped and is healing."

Kili's face paled. Bleeding never sounded good. But the healer didn't seem worried. "My brother? Fili? He is healing too? Where is he?"

The healer looked at Elrond, who gave a short nod. "I will see to your brother." The elf said, standing. "Rest."

Relieved, Kili nodded his agreement. But when the healer left he realized that he was alone with Lord Elrond, his sons, and the living embodiment of starlight. He gave her a sideways glance from the corner of his dark eyes.

She smiled at him, catching him looking at her.

Kili felt caught, his face flushing. "Are you Elenlote?"

Identical smiles bloomed on the faces of Lord Elrond and his sons. Kili blinked. Elves could smile? Oh, he'd known Tauriel could, but he'd never thought he'd see such an expression on other elves.

"I am Galadriel. I am mother to the mother of your father."

Kili heard, but didn't listen, being distracted by all the staring and wierdness going on today. "What?"

But the lady didn't repeat herself. Instead she put her hand on his hand and started to sing. In Elvish. A haunting melody of grace and beauty. Lord Elrond and his sons joined in, adding harmony as well a deeper voice and counterpoint.

Kili looked around at the group, wondering if this was part of the healing process. Elves were odd.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"They won't let me in there!" Oin complained, looking at Kili's bedroom door and the elven guards standing there. Naked blades in their hands.

The door finally opened and a single elf exited the bedroom. Everyone stiffened as the elf came straight to Fili. "I am Nuluin, the healer. Your brother has sent me to tend you."

Oin stiffened. "That's my job."

"His brother asks, I obey." Nuluin proved stubborn, leaning in to look at the arrow wounds that Oin was currently working on. Luckily the shafts hadn't penetrated too far into the flesh due to the excellent dwarven armor. Painfully debilitating, but not mortal.

"Why would an elf, any elf, obey Kili?" Thorin asked, confused beyond measure.

Gandalf started to shrug and then stiffened as he heard a song start in the room behin him. He turned to stare at the closed door in wonder.

The elven guards saw him, and crossed their exposed blades in front of the door. It was clear no one was getting in there. Not even the wizard, a long-time Elf-Friend.

"Glorfindel? What is this song?" Gandalf asked with meek casualness that was a thin veneer over his curiousity and need to know.

The golden haired warrior gifted Mithrandir with a chiding look, obviously not answering the question.

Balin stirred from where he stood next to his king. "Glorfindel? That is an ancient name."

Dwalin turned to stare at his brother as if to tell him not to get distracted.

But Balin was trying to make a connection and perhaps gain some answers. "Were you named for the great warrior? The Elf Lord of Gondolin?"

The two elves guarding Kili's bedroom door smiled very slightly.

The golden warrior looked up and gave a very simple answer. "No."

"He is the Elf Lord of Gondolin." King Thranduil walked into the area, his nose high in the air, but obviously overhearing part of the conversation. He frowned sharply as he heard the song being sung behind Kili's door.

"But ...but that Glorfindel died and was buried." Balin protested, turning to stare at the golden warrior before them.

Gandalf though had caught Thranduil's surprise as he'd heard the song the House of Elrond was currently singing together. "I do not know this song. Is it one of healing?"

Thranduil snorted in disdain. "It is Noldor."

Gandalf drew back thoughtfully. The Lady Galadriel was of the Noldor, he knew. "The language I recognized as Quenya, but it feels ...ritualized."

Glorfindel sighed heavily, standing to move in front of the two guards blocking entrance to Kili's room. He looked balefully at King Thranduil, clearly not trusting the woodland elf from telling secrets.

"It is a song of welcoming." Thranduil did not disappoint. "For a newborn." He peered at the door in question. "And completely out of place in these ... halls." His last word dripped with disdain.

Gandalf seemed shocked. "For a newborn?"

Thorin shook his head and laughed. "What? That makes no sense at all. They have my nephew in there, not some swaddled babe."

The Gray Wizard looked shocked to the marrow, his mind clearly racing and trying to puzzle out the day's events and how they fit together.

Fili chuckled. "All of this over a young dwarf that you threw in your prisoner cells." He turned a chilly eye on King Thranduil even as the medics poked and prodded him while they wrapped him in bandages.

Glorfindel and the other elven guards straightened, all humor lost. They glared holes at ... King Thranduil.

"What?" The arrogant woodlands monarch asked with a wave of his slender hand.

The great golden warrior drew his sword and stood before the bedroom door, clearly ready to fight any who dared to cross his path.

Thorin eyed him dubiously.

Gandalf sighed. "Balin. This is Glorfindel. He was not named for a great hero. He is truly THAT Glorfindel. Who fell and was re-embodied in Halls of Awakening. Chief of the House of the Golden Flower and slayer of the Balrog."

Balin and Dwalin traded looks of astonishment.

"Do not cross him if you please." Gandalf nodded as if to himself. "By the way, that is his own sword. He had to dig up his own grave to retrieve it."

Thorin's eyes nearly bulged on that one.

"Better yet, don't talk to him. Or look at him." Gandalf sighed and glanced at the tall golden haired elf. "And don't tell him a joke, his laugh is completely annoying."

Now Glorfindel sighed heavily and shot a less than amused glance at the wizard. But the tension in the elves did lessen slightly.

Thorin cleared his throat, calling attention to himself. "Wizard? What is this song and why is it being sung here and now?"

Gandalf looked weary as he took a seat next to Fili and ran a nervous hand over his beard. "I do not know this song, but I have heard of it before. This must be the song a family will sing to welcome a newborn into their midst. A calling of kin. An awakening."

Nuluin nodded, not looking away from his wide-eyed patient. Fili shook his head, his blond braids halfway undone from the battle already.

"Why would they sing that to Kili?" The older brother asked.

Gandalf turned to Thorin, carefully choosing his words. "I never thought to ask. It never occurred to me. Fili and Kili are so obviously brothers. But they don't share the same parents, do they?"

Fili flushed, embarrassed. "That is not to be discussed."

Gandalf sighed. "Oh dear."

Thorin clenched his teeth. "They are my heirs. They are MY bloodline."

Glorfindel smiled widely and Thorin blinked, reminded strongly of a snarling warg.

The gray wizard closed his eyes wearily. "No wonder they rode so hard to get here. In fact, if not for the eagles they may have beaten us to Erebor."

"Gandalf?" Fili asked, clearly worried, wincing as his sitting forward pulled on his wounds.

"My dear Thorin." Gandalf spoke carefully, asking the burning question. "Who is Kili's father?"

Unfortunately, Thorin didn't have an answer. "Why?"

The wizard eyed the elven guards with wary fatigue. "Because I think today's battles are not yet over."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	7. In which Fili asks for aid and Kili wants a drink

"That is not possible, is it?" King Dain of the Iron Hills looked confused, and even a bit disconcerted.

"Physically possible or actually possible?" Thorin snarled, pacing in his throne room with a select gathering of dwarves.

Dain sighed unhappily. "Difference?" He asked.

Balin was watching, but when Thorin didn't answer, he stepped into the breach. "Unlikely to occur, but not physically impossible. Lord Elrond himself is known as the Half-Elven. He's got the blood of Men in his veins. Numenor."

Several of the dwarves nodded, but the majority looked shocked. Learning of Elvish history wasn't high on their educational priorities it seemed. Dain shook his head in wonder. "So, your nephew Kili has the blood that started the Dunedain, the bloodlines of the Lady of Lorien as well as Rivendell, AND Durin's Line?"

Balin had already thought of this, but Dwalin had not yet gotten there. The dwarf warrior rubbed both hands over his bearded face. "Oh by Nain's bearded ass." He bemoaned. "They aren't leaving without the lad."

"They can't have him." Thorin snapped, his temper running high. "And we don't know it's true."

Dain and Balin shared an incredulous look, dismayed. The King's cousin shrugged. "Send for Dis. She'll have the truth of it."

"I know my sister!" Thorin roared. "She would never have wed an elf! An ELF!" He spun on his closest advisor, pointing a stout finger at him. "You! You were advising Thror, what do you know of this matter?"

Balin winced and shook his head. "Before that assualt on Moria, all we discussed were battle strategies. The King ...he had something he was working on though, something he did not share with me. Thrain knew, but he didn't share. And a strange visitor."

"Elves?" Gandalf spoke up for the first time, having been content to listen at first.

Balin's white beard shook with his head as he denied the obvious. "Not elves. A wizard."

All eyes turned to Ganadalf who took his hand off his pipe to raise it before him, palm out. "Not I." He smiled benignly as fragrant smoke escaped his lips.

Thorin sent the tall wizard a suspicious look, frowning as Balin rushed to explain it had been a different wizard. Wearing white.

"Saruman." Gandalf drew back in surprise, and some relief. "The head of our order and a very wise wizard indeed. I did not know he had any hand in Dwarven dealings."

Dain gave a grim look at his cousin. "So add the head wizard in Middle Earth to this mix? This isn't looking good for us."

Dwalin looked on, angry because he felt out of his depth. "Wait. If Kili is part elf, where have they been all this time? If this Saruman is such a great wizard, how come no one came to take Kili until now?"

"They. Can. Not. Take. My. Heir." Thorin avowed, his eyes steely and his jaw clenched. "ELVES!" He said it like it was a curse.

"It'll mean war." Dwalin said, his voice deep and resigned.

Gandalf nodded, his face somber. "One you can not win."

Thorin spun, clearly in a rage. "You do not know the resolve of the Dwarves of Erebor! Do not doubt the strength of our hearts. We are as stone and as resolute as the mountain itself!"

"And you do not know the full strength of the Lady of Lorien!" Gandalf bit out the words heavily, power eminating off of him for a long moment before retreating.

Balin coughed apologetically and looked at Gandalf, almost pleading. "Even with you on our side?"

"Even with me on your side." The wizard's voice sounded sad as he spoke. "And I don't know that I'm on your side. There are more important issues to be discussed this day."

"Not to me!" Thorin roared so loudly his voice near broke and he started coughing, turning away to stare at the bare walls. In his grandfather's day there had been sumptuous tapestries, but those were all now ratty and beyond repair. Balin had supervised their removal before the Mirkwood Elves had arrived with their accursed demands. New ones were not high on his agenda.

Dain looked around, uneasy but self assured. He sighed. "You need to send for Dis." Balin and Dwalin both nodded in agreement.

Thorin said nothing.

Fili came running in to the throne room, his face flushed and looking near panicked. His shirt hung loosly over the bandages wrapped around his broad chest. "You need to stop them!"

Thorin growled. "What do you think we're doing in here? Discussing mining schedules and the repairs to the bellows?"

"No!" Fili looked stressed out. "They're asking if Kili has a horse here and what here is belonging to him. It is like they're planning on packing his things up!"

Thorin's eyes narrowed dangerously, his fingers closing on the hilt of his sword, Orcrist which had at last been returned to him. By another damned Elf! He snarled. "There are too many elves in this world!"

Gandalf winced. "Do you forget that power that swept over the battlefield only today? Even that sword will shatter before it tastes an elf's flesh today."

Scowling, Thorin rushed out the door of his throne room back to the hallway outside Kili's bedroom, the others following in his furious wake.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The song the elves were singing was long and in a language he did not know. Pretty though.

Kili watched the group with what he hoped would pass as politeness and not boredom. It didn't help that he was fighting a yawn. He knew enough to know that would be considered rude.

But he was feeling sleepy. And warm. His headache was fading a bit and his vision seemed better. A sudden yawn near cracked his jaw and he was helpless to prevent it. Damn. He slid his eyes over to the elves one by one, but all simply gave him smiles of encouragement and kept singing.

Strange beings, Elves. But not unpleasant really. Except for Thranduil. Kili frowned slightly.

As if in response one of the twins reached for his hand, almost like a gesture of comfort. Kili couldn't think of a reason to pull back, and he was feeling a bit lethargic anyway. He didn't squeeze the hand back though. This wasn't Tauriel. Kili smiled pleasantly at the thought of the pretty red-headed she-elf.

The golden haired female sitting on his bed shifted a tiny bit, and Kili blinked open his eyes, turning his head to peer at her. She was smiling more brightly than before, almost as if amused.

Kili gave her an odd look.

A picture of Tauriel formed in his mind, one where she was smiling at him while they were talking in Lake Town. Before the dragon and after the healing. That had been some of the his best moments in recent memory.

The golden elf lady looked even more amused now. Kili's eyes widened as sleepiness faded. Could she read his mind? He turned to the three male elves, alarmed, but their expressions seemed the same. He blew out a relieved breath. The dark-haired prince decided he was being overly imaginative.

Looking around, Kili wondered where his brother was right now. Was Fili alright? What about those arrow wounds? Were they like the ones he'd suffered, where they had been poisoned somehow? It was at that moment, in a quiet moment that Kili realized it was fully quiet in the room. The singing had ended. And they were all staring at him. Still.

Clearing his throat, Kili nodded. "That was ...nice."

"A song of Welcoming." Elrond said in a measured voice, even and soothing. His words made it seem like there was something he was missing, something that he wasn't understanding.

"Welcoming?" Kili laughed a bit stiffly. "You're the guests, but we dwarves don't have any formal welcoming songs. Lots of songs. We love to sing too you know. I can play the fiddle."

One of the twins offered him a half-smile. "Not that kind of Welcoming."

Kili nodded, feeling very unsure. "Oh."

"It also Awakens you." The lady spoke this time, pulling his dark eyes toward her. She really was beautiful. "Thank you." She said.

Kili's eyes went wide as his mouth dropped open. "Can you read my mind?" His voice rose alarmingly, a blush covering his cheeks. "I mean, well ...not that you aren't beautiful. Your hair is very ...shiny. Wavy. Pretty." He felt like a damnable fool, wincing.

"Do you not think it holds the same wave as yours, only the coloring and length are different." The lady kept smiling at him.

Kili blinked, his headache pushing back at him. Now that the singing was over he wasn't feeling quite as well as he had. But gamely he reached behind his ear and pulled forth a lock of his own hair. He squinted at the dark lock he was holding, it did wave a bit . "Maybe. But mine needs a wash."

The lady laughed brightly, then quieted. "Do you know who I am?" When he shook his head mutely, she said something thta sounded almost musical. "Utinu en tinu' utinu."

Oh great, more Elvish. Kili returned her smile, with an apologetic look. "I don't understand your language." He admitted with an almost cheeky grin. "Pretty though."

"It means you are the son of my daughter's son." The lady said, then held her breath. Watching him. "You may have gotten the waves in your hair from me. Certainly not from them." She waved gracefully at the three males on the other side of his bed.

There had been a ringing in his ears since the blow to his head earlier, yet nothing bad. But now he shook his head as if trying to clear his hearing. Maybe his concussion was worse. "Huh?"

Elrond knelt down next to Kili's bed. "I would spare you this, but there is no easy way to explain. This is the Lady of Lorien. Galadriel."

Kili's eyes widened as he recalled the stories his uncle had told them of the Elf Witch of the Wood. "Uhm?" He couldn't help his sudden sense of alarm. Stories told to frighten young dwarflings flooded through his mind.

"Her daughter was my wife. These are my sons, and her grandchildren in the common tongue." Elrond continued, his manner gentle as he tried to explain.

The young prince's alarm only grew despite the Elf Lord's efforts. He wanted to shout at them to shut up now. He shook his head, wincing at the sudden recurrence of pain. A premonition hung over him like a sudden pall. "No." He whispered.

"This is Elrohir." Elrond looked over at one of his sons, and then turned to the other. "And Elladan. He is your father." He tried to say as gently as possible.

"No. No, no, no." Kili was repeating himself, unaware. His eyes were round with distress as the tall elf bowed his head to him, but never dropping his gray-eyed gaze from Kili's face.

"Be at peace child." The Elf Witch reached for him and Kili rolled in the opposite direction without thought, becoming tangled in his sheet and knocking Elrond back.

"Young Kili ..." Elrond stood, looking on him with pity.

Pity? He didn't want pity! Kili scrambled back in panic and anger. "Why would you say something like that? I'm not an elf!"

The Lady of Lorien sighed, no longer smiling. She seemed ...sorry? "The light of the Eldar is wakening within you now."

"WELL TAKE IT OUT!" Kili shouted at her, horrified beyond measure.

Elrond would have laughed at that if the moment hadn't been so rife with distress. "You can not change your blood. None of this is your fault and I sorrow for your pain, child. Your father only now has learned of your existance."

Father. Father. Father. The word echoed over and over in his aching brain, his blood pressure rising alarmingly. In fact, it was the only word to penetrate and worm it's insidious way into his brain. Kili stood, unsteady on his feet.

Elladan bent over and gathered the sheet that Kili had lost in his mad scramble. He held it out to his naked son. "Do not fear us. Please, son. We are family."

Kili's eyes slid back and forth over the group and then he snarled, his hand swiping out to grab the sheet and wrap it around his nakedness. He couldn't bring himself to thank him. Him. Father. His stomach clenched tightly and he was afraid that he was about to throw up. "Where were you?" The question slipped past his lips without thought. Embarrassed to seem so needy, he violently shook his head. "No. No. It's a lie! You're lying!"

"Your mother did not tell me that she carried life within her when she left." Elladan said carefully, not wanting to upset the young male any more than he already was. Yet unable to give anything but the truth. "I would have been with you if I'd but known."

Kili moaned, holding the sheet in a white knuckled grasp around his waist. His dark eyes wild and unable to fully focus at the moment. His spare hand reached behind him for the door.

Elrohir stepped forward, but a motion from his father had him stopping. "Come and sit, we will explain." He said quietly, his heart bleeding for the powerful emotions swamping his young nephew.

"FILI!" The young prince hit the back of his head against his door, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"KILI!" Immediatly came the yelled response from somewhere out in the hallway.

"Please, just listen. We're not here to harm you." Elladan stepped closer and Kili's stomach rolled, his face going alarmingly pale.

"He's going to faint." Elrohir sounded worried, which was wrong. An elf had no business being worried about him.

Unble to think or see straight, Kili opened his door behind his back. Unfortunately he was also listing off balance and fell through the opened door at the feet of two Elven guards. They reached for him and he screamed.

Part of him knew he was out of control, but he couldn't stop reacting. When the Elven guards continued to reach out to help him, he vaguely realized they looked worried, not mean. But he batted at their hands anyway.

Father. Father. Father. The word pounded into his head with every beat of his heart, the pain of his concussion weighing in on him and the wound in his soul bleeding deeply. Long forgotten grief burst into life as all his feelings of abandonment whirled through his already confused, and still concussed, mind.

"KILI!" The young blond dwarf who was his brother rushed forward. The elven guards looked confused, looking back at Elrond as he just outside the doorway. The Elf Lord of Rivendell gave a silent signal to step back.

Fili dropped down to his younger sibling, wrapping his arms protectively around Kili.

"What have you done to him?" Shouted Thorin, moving forward but stopped by Glorfindel stepping in his way. It seemed the elves would only allow Fili to approach.

The dark-haired prince was in obvious trouble, gasping for breath, clasping at his cracked ribs and unable to focus his eyes. Fili let out a wordless wail of distress.

Galadriel stepped forward and through the door to kneel before Kili, moving too quickly for him to recoil. She put her hand on his bare chest, over his heart. "Rest." She whispered to him, without moving her lips. Without speaking at all.

Kili whimpered as his pain receded, then his eyes closed as everything else started to recede as well. His head fell back on his older brother's shoulder as he heard Fili's panicked shout. Darkness ate at the edges of his vision, closing in on him as he slid into a deep, deep sleep.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"What did you do to my nephew?" Screamed Thorin, for about the fourth time.

The group had moved from the hallway outside Kili's bedroom, leaving the young dark-haired prince with his brother and the healers, Oin and Nuluin. The elven guards remained at the door though.

"He sleeps." Lord Elrond voice lacked no confidence, or an innate sense of authority. "Kili was feeling overwhelmed and is concussed."

Thorin roared and stood staring at the table for a long moment, then lifted his dark eyes upon the Elf Lord. "That doesn't answer my question. WHAT did you do to him to make him sleep? Elf magic?" He spit out the words in disgust, and more than a hint of fear.

Galadriel stirred, putting all the dwarves on edge as they refocused on her. The Lady of Lorien seemed unconcerned as she spoke, her voice smooth and no less confident than her daughter's husband. "It is a form of protection. He needed rest."

Seated on one side of the room, King Thranduil of Mirkwood sat and simply watched. Appearing vastly amused.

"If he's concussed, he shouldn't be allowed to sleep without being tended." Balin piped up, unable to keep the worried look off his face.

"He is being tended." Galadriel said quietly. "And he will wake soon. It is a small magic of which you speak."

Gandalf sighed. "This is a sticky matter, for both sides. The dwarves fear that you are here to take Kili away from them."

Elrond inclined his head, suddenly looking arrogant. "He is our kin."

"You don't know that!" Thorin gritted his teeth. "Not for certain."

"Yes, we do. We have sung awake the Eldar in his soul. The response was clear." Elladan's voice held no warmth as he glared at his son's dwarven uncle. "It should have been done at birth." The accusation was crystal clear.

Thorin's own towering rage boiled over and he slammed his hand down on the long table in the meeting room. "He is a dwarf!"

"He is not only a dwarf." Elrond rejoined with equal measure. "And he has been denied half of his very soul."

Gandalf sighed. "I have news that ..."

Elrond turned to his long-time friend, his temper nearer the breaking point than he cared to admit. "I will not be placated on this matter. These dwarves have stolen kin. Son of my son. It is beyond reason, beyond forgiveness! They put a child in danger! You will not turn me from my wrath!"

Elladan stood. "We leave in the morning." His quiet anger no less potent than his father's.

The dwarves all roared in immediate protest.

Thorin put his hand on Orcrist's hilt. "No! He is my nephew! My HEIR!"

"HE IS MY SON!" Elladan roared back, louder than Thorin thought possible. The dwarves fell silent for a moment in the wake of the the warrior's shout. "We leave in the morning." He lowered his voice again, but showing no less determination.

"This plan may need to be rethought." Gandalf stood, his voice saddened.

Elrond made a cutting gesture with his hand. "Friend or not, Mithrandir. We will not be deterred. Nothing you can say will change our minds on this matter."

"Sauron has returned and has revealed himself." Gandalf's voice curiously lacked inflection.

Elrond fell silent, stunned. Quietly, Galadriel's head turned to stare at the wizard and for the first time since their arrival, she touched his mind with hers. He shared his memories of the Necromancer and Dol Guldur.

King Thranduil stood up, staring at the Gray Wizard in consternation. His early amusement vanishing in the utterance of that particular name. He turned to look at the Lady of Lorien. Galadriel nodded, closing her eyes in deep sorrow.

Elrond's eyebrows snapped together in immediate concern. "Does he have the One ring?"

"Not yet." Gandalf said quietly. "That is a small comfort."

"More than small." Elrond sighed quietly. "I ...am sorry my friend. My temper has led me to put aside what I know of you. This family matter has ...unnerved me."

"We must take council." The wizard looked at each of the Elven leaders, and then to Thorin. "All of us."

Elrond, Lord of Rivendell nodded, his temper currently banked. "Yes. But this is all the more reason that I want young Kili away from here."

The sound of Thorin's teeth grinding could be heard by the entire room. "No."

Elrond waved one hand wearily. "Sauron's appearance means that the goblin and warg attack on Erebor wasn't happenstance. It was deliberate. This place is not safe. Nor is the Mirkwood."

Thanduil's weight shifted slightly, but he did not argue.

"All the more reason for old hates to be put aside in the face of mutual need." Elrond spoke matter-of-factly, almost sternly. "Today's battle showed that neither the Mirkwood Elves nor the Dwarves of Erebor can survive the coming conflict without each other."

Thorin and Thranduil shared an uneasy meeting of the eyes. Both were in complete agreement. Elrond was annoying. And maybe right ...which was still annoying.

Movement at the door to the meeting hall had eyes turning in that direction. Fili and Kili stood there quietly. The young dark-haired prince of two or more major houses blinked, staring back at the assembled group.

Kili looked pale, but in control. And dressed. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his trousers, nervous. His dark eyes slid over the collected Elves present, settling on none of them. Instead he looked at his uncle Thorin. "I'm not going."

Elladan drew up to his full height.

Kili continued to refuse to look in his direction, although he was almost hyper aware of the elf's every movement.

Elrond sighed. "It's not that simple, child. Your place is with your father. And you have much to learn of the other parts of your heritage."

"I'm not a child, and I've made my decision." Kili sounded obstinate. "I am a Dwarf, of Erebor."

Thorin's teeth gleamed white as he suddenly smiled grimly, nodding his complete agreement. And pride.

Gandalf sighed unhappily, he'd been thinking about this for the two hours that Kili had been sleeping. "I'm afraid, by all laws, you are still a child."

Thorin shook his head quickly. "My nephew is an adult by dwarven standards. And by human as well. If this is all true, and this elf is his ...sire, then accounting for age by at least the largest portions of his blood ... he is of his majority and free to make his own decisions."

The Gray Wizard shook his head. "You claim dwarven ways? Fine. By Dwarven law in the rare case of custody dispute, the father's line takes precedent unless the female's blood is higher ranked. Dis is the daughter of King Thrain. Elladan is the son of Lord Elrond, all things equal they rank the same. Elrond rules, the title he uses is not relevant. Not only that, but apparently Dis has made critical errors in basically stealing the son from the father. His bloodline would go first then."

Thorin stirred, suddenly unsure. Gandalf sounded so ...sure.

"So the father's line is given. That means the prevailing rule is elvish, and by those laws? Kili is still underage." Gandalf concluded with a look of sympathy over at the youth he was discussing.

"I'm seventy-seven!" The youth in question protested immediately.

"Seventy-Eight." Elladan corrected mildly.

Kili shook his head, frowning. "You're wrong! Seventy-seven, I should know my own birthday!"

Galadriel made a small sigh. "Child. Elves count years from the date of conception, not birth. To us, you are a year older than by your own reckoning."

Kili looked at Fili, who shrugged. He hadn't known that either. The older brother looked over at Elladan, standing tall and proud in his righteous anger. And to think he'd vowed on a small bead to beat the crap out of the male for abandoning Kili. "How long before my brother reaches majority among the elves?"

"At least a century from the moment he was conceived." Elrohir answered for his brother. "Until then, Kili is a minor."

A hundred years? "No." He didn't shout or panic this time, managing to keep a closer rein on his emotions. "I'm not leaving with you. And forcing me to go will be a mistake of the highest order."

Elladan shook his head. "I will not have you in danger. You will return with us to Lorien or Rivendell. Those are your only two choices."

Kili's jaw clenched, as did his fists.

Fili recognized the signs that his younger brother was willing to fight unto death for a point. This point. Against his own father.

The blond older brother didn't want Kili to go anywhere. Ever. But looking at the Elves, it broke his heart. If his sibling couldn't see it, he could. They weren't leaving here without him. While Thorin was ready to go to war to keep him.

Deeply disturbed, Fili's mind raced. And it came back to one very small thing.

"I will not leave here." Kili shook his head.

"Child ..."

"I'm an adult!" The dark-haired prince bit the words out with venom.

"I want something." Fili spoke up loudly, drawing attention his way. But it wasn't until he'd caught Elladan's regard that he continued. "What does this get me?"

Elladan immediately recognized the glint of silver from the small bead held between Fili's thumb and forefinger. He shot a glance behind him at his brother. Elrohir nodded. He saw it too.

Galadriel eyed the small token with it's horse sigil. "It grants you the right to ask for aid or succor." She shot Thranduil a less than kind look. "And it should have kept you from elven prison cells at the very least."

Thranduil wouldn't meet the Lady's eyes, but appeared no less haughty.

Elrond stared over at Fili for a lengthy moment, then nodded. "You may not ask to keep your brother from us."

Fili nodded carefully, speaking with great thought. "I want time."

Elladan's mouth thinned, pain flashing in his gray eyes. "Seventy-eight years is not enough time?"

Fili shook his head. "I didn't know. Thorin didn't know. And we all know that Kili had no clue either."

The elves paused and watched, allowing Fili to continue. "I ask for time. Time for Kili to heal. Time for our mam to come and explain things. Time for you to get to know each other."

Kili turned and stared at his older sibling, grateful and yet feeling betrayed at the same time. "I'm not going." He insisted.

Fili gripped his younger brother's arm, turning him to face his father again. Kili's eyes refused to make contact with the tall elf warrior. "Time. Please."

"Do not beg!" Thorin's temper clearly leaked into his tone.

Elrond looked at his sons, measuring the need to get Kili to safety, and to also allow the youngster a chance to feel less threatened. "Time. Yes. I can not stay, not with Sauron on the move. I will return to Rivendell. But my sons can ...remain, for a time perhaps."

"I am staying for a bit at least." Galadriel said softly, but still Kili flinched slightly. "Not long can I be away from Lorien with the Old Enemy on the move, but I have dealings here."

Thranduil looked up, startled to find Galadriel's gaze now fully upon him. The two elves stared at each other silently. It only took a few moments, but the Mirkwood ruler was the one to catch his breath, and the one to look away first in an almost flinching move.

Thorin was amazed to see that when the Elven King reached again for his wine, there could have been a fine tremor in his elegant fingers. Maybe. He glanced over at the Lady of Light, she appeared completely at ease. What had just happened?

"I sent Dain to summon my sister, Dis." Thorin sighed heavily, resigned to having Elven guests. And at a loss on how to procede from here.

Elladan stepped forward and Kili winced, although he did not back away. "A few requirements. Break them and we take my son back to Rivendell without luggage and without goodbyes."

Thorin looked up, taking a careful listen, lest the elves try something sneaky. Kili took a deep breath, then coughed roughly as his cracked ribs protested sharply.

When the dark-haired prince looked up, it was to find his ...father ...watching him with deep concern. Kili flushed, his eyes sliding to the floor.

Elladan nodded slowly. He was still looking diretly at Kili who in turn deliberately ignored the male but could feel the stare almost like an actual weight. "Kili can not leave Erebor without escort, Elven."

"Dwarven and Elven." Thorin amended.

"Fine." Elladan continued. "Kili also has to agree to learn about this new side to himself. A fair chance to get to know each other."

Fili poked his younger brother, who growled, but then reluctantly nodded. The elves all nodded, not happy, but their anger better controlled.

Kili looked over at Thorin, his eyes almost pleading. The King Under the Mountain gave a short grunt. Time. Okay. They had time to try and figure a way out of this.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dinner was a strained affair. A nightmare of seating. Balin couldn't make up his mind about the various ranks and who should be seated higher up the table.

Thorin was easy. Head of the table for the King Under the Mountain. This was Erebor, and his rightful place. Dain too was easy, for that king had left with a mixed contingent of dwarven and even a pair of elven warriors to see to bringing Dis here safely.

Fili was rightfully at Thorin's side. Kili should have been at the other. But there was Lord Elrond and the Lady of Lorien. Whose title and rank was greater? Or should that spot go to Thranduil? Since Mirkwood was their immediate neighbor? And what about Gandalf?

Finally Thorin had gritted his teeth and thrown Balin's heavily revised seating plan into the fire, snarling. "We eat family style. Sit where you will." He spoke with not a little bitterness stressing the word 'family'.

It was interesting to watch, actually. Balin decided. King Thranduil sat next to King Thorin, but the white haired dwarf wasn't sure if that was merely because it put him further from the Lady Galadriel, who chose the other end of the table to sit.

When Kili entered, it was clear where he WANTED to sit. He even took a few steps toward Fili when a certain golden warrior claimed the spot next to Erebor's heir.

Fili glared at Glorfindel, who slid into the seat next to him with ease. The elven hero reached for the rolls, putting two on his plate without preamble. He winked at the blond heir, showing his move to have been deliberate.

Blocked, Kili looked at Thorin's other side, but that was where King Thranduil was seated. At least the Mirkwood prince was no where to be seen. Legolas was one touchy and arrogant elf to Kili's way of thinking.

Elladan rose halfway from his seat and Kili moved to the table to avoid being summoned. He wasn't ready, not at all. He moved to take the spot next to King Thranduil.

"Come, let me introduce you properly."

Without hesitation, Gandalf basically headed off the younger dwarf and led him over to Lord Elrond and his family. Kili's face paled as Elrohir stood and held out a chair for him.

"I'm not a babe." Kili muttered, sliding into the seat with ill grace ignoring the fact that his petulant attitude did make him seem really young. He was pretty sure that given the day's circumstances, he was allowed a bit of leeway.

"Indeed not." Elrond agreed cautiously. "But very young for one of our race." He glanced fondly at his twin sons. "Elrohir and your father ..."

Kili flinched a bit at the word 'father'.

"...were born in the year 130 of the Third Age."

Kili blinked, sucked in a harsh breath, and then looked up and stared. It was currently the year 2941. He suddenly felt more than a bit dizzy.

Next to these elves, his seventy-seven or seventy-eight years seemed as nothing.

'Not nothing. Never nothing.'

The words echoed in his mind, and sounded very female and yet when he looked up, the Lady of Lorien was eating. Not speaking. Had he imagined it?

Not even pretending that he wasn't listening in, Fili leaned toward the other end of the table. "Will Kili live that long?" He asked anxiously.

"That is unknown." Lord Elrond said slowly, glancing at the elven medic. "I myself and my sons were all given a choice of mortality or an elven life. My own twin brother chose mortality and began the line of the Dunedain."

Balin sighed heavily. It was one thing to read history. It was another to meet history.

Kili's wide eyes flew to his brother. Would he outlive him by so much? If he was presented with a choice, he knew he'd chose to live as a Dwarf.

'Be calm. That choice is not yet before you, and may as yet not even be offered. Your blood is very mixed.'

The words shouldn't have been a comfort, but they were. Kili's breathing evened out and he shot a glance over at the Lady Galadriel. She still hadn't spoken aloud. But she did catch his eye. This time he knew she was speaking directly into his mind.

'Your love for your brother, and his for you does not change with the number of years either of you live.'

Kili nodded slightly, calming enough to spoon a tiny bit of potatoes on his plate.

Elrohir passed him the spinach and Kili turned and put the bowl back in the middle of the table without taking any.

But any words on the lack of a green vegetable was headed off when several servants moved around the table pouring wines and ales.

As the pitcher of ale approached, Elladan's hand moved to cover the top of Kili's mug. Suddenly the dark-haired prince straightened. Underage? He leaned over at shot Thorin a wild look of distress.

Thorin winced. He was already plotting and planning any way to keep Kili at Erebor. Fighting to allow the lad to drink ale was a small battle, and one he'd willingly concede in order to appear cooperative. He shook his head at his nephew, telling him not to argue the point.

Elrond frowned at his son. "Kili has most likely been drinking ale since he was fifty."

"Thirty." Kili mumbled.

"Fifteen." Thorin sighed.

Kili sighed unhappily, feeling very put upon.

Elladan shrugged. "And he can again, perhaps even next week. For now he is still concussed."

"Ah." Elrond nodded quietly.

Kili brightened considerably.

"But no more than a drink with dinner perhaps." Elladan continued. "He is still growing."

Kili's consternation at having his ale consumption reigned in unfairly, shifted upon the utterance of one word. "Growing?" His voice nearly squeaked.

Thorin paused, his food half-way to his mouth. His eyebrows rose with surprise. "Growing?"

Elladan waved a hand at the healer. Nuluin carefully chewed his own food and swallowed without hurry, unmindful of the stare of every person at the table. "He would have grown at least another inch on his own. Yet now that the the Light of the Eldar is stirring within him ..."

Kili winced, rubbing his chest at the very thought.

"I sense within him the potential of three to five more inches of height. Short by our standards, but healthy."

Fili gaped at his younger brother. Almost half a foot taller?

Kili's mind reeled.

But the healer wasn't finished. "He'll grow in strength as well as size, perhaps even broaden a bit through the chest."

Dwalin shook his head. "A dwarf gains his full strength by the age of thirty. He keeps it for his lifetime. Unchanged."

"Kili is not fully dwarven." Nuluin said with a bit of arrogance. "Elves gain their minds very young, but do not reach maturity until they approach a hundred years old."

Thorin actually managed a weak chuckle. "There may be hope for you to learn how to use the heavy war axes then. Instead of that bow of yours."

Elladan's gray eyes sparked with interest. "You shoot a bow?"

Kili didn't want to talk about any shared traits. He ignored his father and looked to the healer. "Will my beard grow fuller?" It was the most important question on his mind at the moment.

Galadriel chuckled, but Kili's eyes never left Nuluin.

The healer shrugged. "Not a full beard more than likely, but it should fill out some. Perhaps enough to style as your brother does his own. Though without the length." He made a motion along side his mouth to show he was referring to Fili's mustache.

Kili laughed. All the pain and uncertainty faded into the background for only a moment, but in that small piece of time ...Kili laughed. Bright and unhindered.

The dwarves were long used to Kili and his light-hearted nature. But the tension of the coming battle and it's aftermath had cast them all into a deep pall. It wasn't until they heard his usual full-throated mirth that they realized that something essential had been missing.

The elves had never seen nor heard Kili laugh at all. It was no small surprise to them to see him lose himself in the moment so completely. Head thrown back, grin spread across his features in such a way that they realized this was common for him. Part of him. Lindir's sketch back in Rivendell did little justice on the true infectious nature of Kili's personality when he ...laughed.

Galadriel looked at the newest addition to her bloodline. The name arrived on the tip of her tongue with a sweetness like honey. "Kuilaith."

Elladan seemed pleased and Elrohir smiled. Lord Elrond nodded with affirmation.

At the other end of the table, Glorfindel grinned with approval. "Kuilaith!" He raised his wine in a salute.

Fili looked around at the other dwarves, no one seemed to understand what was going on. He glanced at Gandalf. "What's that word?"

The Gray Wizard smiled and shrugged. "It's not a word. It's a name. Kili's elven name now."

Thorin frowned at the thought of re-naming his heir. "He has a name!"

Gandalf shrugged. "I am called Mithrandir by the Elves, and I have several other names as well. I am still me."

"Kuilaith." Fili tried the name out, frowning at the unusual sound. "What does it mean?"

Glorfindel grinned at his dinner companion. "It is a ...bringing together of two words in a new manner." The warrior shrugged lightly. "It does not have a direct meaning, but it is an idea."

"An idea?" Thorin asked weakly.

"A melding." Glorfindel looked at Gandalf to help explain. "I don't know how to change it into common tongue."

The wizard nodded and thought about it closely for a moment. "It's like trying to describe color to one who has never been able to see. Let's see. Kuilaith. It ...well, very broadly it would mean a living embodiment of joy or laughter. It describes a feeling, not a thing." Gandalf frowned. "That's not it completely, it's more of a description of how others are made to feel by your very existence."

"Joy." Thorin sounded disgusted. "He is a dwarven warrior, proven and strong. He deserves a name of strength."

Gandalf had no answer to offer the dwaven king, not one that Thorin would appreciate or fully understand. To the elves, a person who brought out strong emotions in other elves, was a name of strength indeed.


	8. In which translations are offered

For the past two days Kili had effectively managed not to run into his newly discovered relatives except at dinner. Erebor was a large kingdom after all.

He should have known that his luck would run out sooner rather than later.

Kili, Fili and Ori met in a dusty hallway far from the clean-up work crews that they'd all been working with. Young Ori pulled out some spicy sausage rolls that the kitchens had laid out for everyone. "Still hot." He murmured.

Kili and Fili nodded their thanks as they broke the breakfast rolls and shared them. "Anyone about?" The blond dwarven heir asked. No need to specify they meant the Elvish visitors.

Ori nodded. "That one, the warrior with the long blond hair. He saw me." The youngest of the dwarves gave an involuntary shudder. "He didn't say anything though."

Kili nodded, his mouth full of food. "Glorfindel. I talked with him a bit after dinner last night."

Ori's eyes widened at such a bold move. The younger dwarven warriors were all agog over the presence of the mighty Elf hero. Truth? It wasn't only the younger warriors who were curious, Balin and Dwalin especially seemed intrigued.

The dark-eyed young prince grinned, crumbs spilling as he chewed. It was Fili who answered the unspoken question. "My idea. If the elves start making noise about Kili avoiding them, we can just let them know he was asking Glorfindel for some traditional Elven greetings and words."

Kili swallowed, wishing he had something to wash his breakfast down with. "I tried reading one of the books in the library, but it kept putting me to sleep."

"Oh! The libraries here are magnificent!" Ori almost cooed, having nearly fainted when he'd first caught sight of such largesse. "And the dragon didn't touch them!"

"Because it was full of books, not treasure." Fili said dryly.

"And so you do not feel that knowledge is a treasure beyond mere gold and precious stones?"

That hadn't been Ori's voice. All three males went still with shock, turning as one to stare at the vastly amused Lady of Lorien. Fili blushed very slightly, Kili went pale, and Ori stared in wonder.

She didn't immediately say anything else, just smiled at them all gently. Ori pointed at the Lady's bare feet and long hems. None of the dust or accumulated grime seemed to touch her.

Fili and Ori suddenly both straightened, their eyes widening a bit. It only took a moment, but the two dwarves said something courteous and hurried off. Fili giving a last apologetic look at his younger sibling as he moved down the wide hallway.

"Your brother is protective." Galadriel said, her voice lyrically beautiful. "Kuilaith."

"Kili." The young prince sounded surly, even to his own ears.

"Perhaps to the others. But I mean you no harm calling you by another name."

It suddenly dawned on him that he was alone with the Witch of Lorien. One who'd dropped him into deep sleep with but a touch of her hand just the other day. He eyed her suspiciously.

"There are stories of Dwarves so greedy they would steal the tears and the smiles from hapless elflings in their sleep." Galadriel didn't move toward him, but continued to smile. "Stories are sometimes meant to teach, and sometimes meant to entertain and frighten."

Startled, Kili looked down at his heavy boots, ashamed of his thoughts. "Sorry." He mumbled. He looked up and swept into a formal bow. "Auta miqula orqu."

Galadriel's beautiful eyes widened and her laughter was heartbreakingly lovely and very real.

Kili's face flushed, although he managed an embarrassed smile. "Glorfindel said my pronounciation wasn't too bad." He defended himself.

The Lady's laughter slid into high amusement and delight. "He's right. You have a good ear, inyo."

"Inyo?"

"Grandchild." Galadriel gave a slight nod of her head. "When you next see our dear Glorfindel, tell him thus. Antolle ulua sulrim."

Kili practiced the words several times before they were both satisfied. "What does it mean?"

The Lady of Lorien smiled winningly. "It thanks him for his kind words. A traditional response to the greeting that he shared with you."

The dark-eyed young prince eyed the most beautiful, and most dangerous, person he'd ever met. "What now?"

Neither pretended that he meant at this very moment, but instead were speaking of his future.

"No matter what you say on ages, I'm an adult and I can't go back to being a child."

"Oh Kuilaith." Galadriel gave him a soft look full of sympathy and sorrow. "It shadows the heart that the family knew not that you were one with us from the beginning."

Kili nodded around the sudden lump in his throat. Anger welling up in him, diffused and aimless. He couldn't be angry at his mam, she loved him. And he couldn't be angry at his elvish father, he'd been innocent. Leaving him without a target and simply ...Angry.

"You are still in pain." The Lady of Light gave him a chiding look.

"Not so much." Kili protested weakly. "Ribs ache and I'm sore, but my vision is back to normal."

Galadriel wasn't fooled. "Your head hurts again, from lack of sleep most likely. And your heart bleeds with anger, grief and pain."

Sore embarrassed, Kili sighed. He didn't even quetion how she'd known he wasn't able to get any sleep. Every time he laid down, his mind simply wouldn't stop. "Don't put me back to sleep like a baby again."

The beautiful she-elf nodded carefully. "If you want to learn how to keep such things from happening, you need training."

Kili closed his eyes, pretty much guessing what would come next. "From Elladan."

"Your father." She agreed.

The dark-haired prince of two realms nodded, his shoulders slumping a bit.

"But first I would seek out the father of your father." Galadriel's hand rose in a smooth gesture that reminded Kili of a bird's wing, all grace and power. "And if you don't want to be thought of as a wayward child, perhaps hiding would not be your best course."

As a rebuke it was mild, but Kili still felt the sting. "Thank you." He frowned, uncomfortable. "I don't know what word to call you."

"Properly, I am the mother of your father's mother."

This pulled a dry chuckle from the young prince. "Seems a bit long. What is Elvish for great grandmother?"

Galadriel paused and then shook her head very slightly. "It does not translate."

Kili stirred, a bold look crossing his features, almost cheeky. "I can call you Gabil'amadel."

The Lady of Light blinked twice quickly, taken by some surprise. "Khuzdul?"

"It means great mother of all mothers." Kili tried to look sweet and innocent, the effect called into question by the mischief dancing within the depths of his dark eyes.

Galdariel actually nodded slowly. "I remember Khuzdul. But why call me such?"

"You call me Kuilaith. It seems only fair." Kili shrugged lightly. "You use your language, I'll use mine."

"Indeed." The Lady thought it over for a long moment and then gave a hint of a smile. "Your quick wit does you justice, inyo."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I leave on the morrow. Mithrandir and the halfling travel with me as far as Imladris before going onward to the Shire." Lord Elrond walked beside his son, Elladan. He glanced up at the ornately carved walls and pillars of the main hall, nodding at all the work being done. "They are diligent in their duties."

Elladan nodded and the two tall elves stopped, watching as several dwarves passed them by with a thick rolled up rug with huge rips in it, faces hidden by the large roll of fabric. Pieces of the once glorious designs hanging down forlornly. "Damage from dragon claws no doubt."

Elrond nodded soberly, his eyes missing little as he watched the small work groups each bustling in ordered chaos. There was a rhythm to the dwarves efforts that surprised him somehow. "You realize that we have not been allowed into the throne room itself?"

"So we won't see the accumulated treasure? Yes." His son nodded, unhurried, then frowned. "You also realize that Kuilaith was in that last group with the rug? Hiding his face from us?"

Elrond pursed his lips and shrugged. "He is supposed to be resting." The Elf Lord then turned and looked at the father of his grandchild. "I would continue to call him Kili though, at least when addressing him. Your son seems to have a great deal of stubborn pride."

"That would be the dwarvish side of him." Elladan nodded.

Hesitating, Lord Elrond gave a fond chuckle. "Of that I am not so sure. I remember a certain elf lad who snuck out while recovering from a shoulder muscle injury to climb trees with his twin brother. I do believe he ended up falling."

Startled into a chuckle, Elladan could only shake his head. "Your memory is long, father."

"And my pride is taking a hit as well." Elrond continued, taking a deep breath. "It seems that out of all the knowledge of the Elves and our great age, it took a dwarf to be wise."

Elrohir shot his father a mild look of question.

"To ask for time." Elrond glanced over at the pillar, catching sight of his son's son as Kuilaith approached them. Without the heavy rug he'd been toting but a moment before. "At least he's not hiding."

"From you." Elladan's voice definitely held a bitter tone.

His father nodded, touching his son's shoulder in encouragement. "Perhaps you need time as well. This anger you hold is a barrier between the two of you. I've been watching him these past few days, the dwarves treat him like an adult because to them that is what he is. With us seeing him as a child, we may have been blind."

The dark-haired young prince approached the duo cautiously, his eyes wary. "Vedui' noldo atar." He nodded to Elrond first.

A surprised smile teased Elf Lord's face. "Andatar. That would be a better way to name me. But I appreciate you calling me wise. Thank you, Kili." He said, careful to use the lad's dwarvish name.

Kili nodded solemnly, peeking at Elladan from the corner of his eyes. "I'm trying."

Elladan made a slight sound and shook his head. "Looking at books on Elvish to learn a few words is not the same as talking to actual ... Elves."

The eyes of Kili's father's father narrowed. "It was a good effort."

"I talked to an elf." The prince said defensively. "Two."

Surprised, Elladan's eyebrows rose in query. "What did you learn?"

Kili shuffled his feet a bit then shrugged and bowed his head in formalized greeting. "Auta miqula orqu."

Both of the elves looked startled, Elrond even had to look away to keep his composure.

Dark eyes watched them speculatively. "It's not really a traditional morning greeting is it?"

Elladan shook his head, his gray eyes alit with humor and his lips pressed close to surpress a groan.

"Someone told you that it was?" Lord Elrond asked almost meekly. "Let me guess, King Thranduil?"

Startled, Kili looked up at the two Elf Lords. "Why would I speak to him? No. Glorfindel taught me."

Elladan actually bit his lip, staring at the far wall with great concentration to keep from smiling.

"I guessed it wasn't right." Kili admitted, scratching the back of his head.

"I thank you for your ...greeting." Lord Elrond said, his mood considerably lighter now.

Kili's mouth twitched and he looked around as if guilty over something. "I didn't guess right away." He admitted a bit sheepishly.

Elladan snorted lightly. "Something happened?"

The dark-haired young male shrugged and gave a brief sigh. "I ran into Lady Galadriel this morn."

Elrond's eyes watered a bit and he couldn't help the small escape of laughter as his son Elladan turned away in order to keep his own composure.

"She wouldn't tell me what it meant." Kili admitted.

"Oh yes, well ...did she say anything about it?" Elrond managed not to break down into complete laughter.

"She thanked me. Asked where I learned the greeting and then taught me something to tell Glorfindel when I saw him next." Kili answered, a smile playing on his own lips. "She wouldn't tell me what that meant either."

"Oh?" Elladan finally turned back to look upon his son, his expression more than a little amused.

"Antolle ulua sulrim." Kili recited carefully, then watched as his father and grandfather struggled not to dissolve into laughter. "What is it that I'm saying?"

Elrond coughed and nodded, his face a bit red as he explained. "This morning, you told the Lady of Light ..." He sighed with deep humor. "To go kiss an orc."

Kili's laugh was instantaneous and embarrassed, as well as completely delighted at the same time. "And the second phrase?"

Elladan waved a hand at his son, shakin his head. "No. Just tell Glorfindel what Lady Galadriel taught you. It'll be better that way."

Watching the elves, Kili was surprised that they were smiling, much less laughing. They usually seemed so serious. Feeling a bit traitorous to be enjoying himself, the young prince frowned.

A few of the dwarves working around them sent the elves some rather dour glances. They weren't terribly popular here in Erebor, not when it became known that they were here to take one of Durin's Line.

Sensing the shift in mood, Elrond sobered a bit. But he didn't want to let go of the first tentative step in building a relationship with his son's child. "Did you seek us out for a reason?" His tone suggested he'd give just about anything.

Kili's face flushed a bit and he debated on not asking, but in the end he felt he had to know. "Galadriel said you might teach me how to ...well, not fall asleep."

Elladan shot his father a questioning look, but Lord Elrond was nodding thoughtfully. "You mean such as when the Lady calmed your mind?"

"She did a bit more than calm it." Kili's mouth twisted, his eyes downcast. "I was out for two hours."

_Making you feel even more like a child._ Elrond mused, nodding his understanding. "I can start your training, indeed. But it is not a quick process. You will have to continue once I have departed for Imladris. Continuing to practice, with ...Elladan." He amended at the last moment, in place of 'your father.'

He'd guessed as much. Kili nodded to show he understood.

"Mental training can be tiresome." Elladan spoke as casually as he could manage. "Perhaps when you are done this afternoon you and your brother will join me and Elrohir for a ride?"

Kili agreed without really thinking about it, deciding that spending time with the Elves was far better than being cooped up inside.

Lord Elrond smiled reaching out to put a hand on his grandson's shoulder, relieved when the lad allowed the touch. A small thing, but a beginning.

One that ended as King Thorin hurried into the main hall. Kili stepped back and bowed to his uncle. The King Under the Mountain frowned over at the elves, but only greeted them briefly. Instead he was there to speak to the leader of the work crews about important repairs.

"May I help, uncle?" Kili asked, heedless that he'd already committed his time that morning. Feeling guilty that he wasn't doing more.

King Thorin glanced at the closed off expressions of the two elves, and then at his youngest heir. Uncomfortable with leaving Kili with his ...relatives, and yet wanting to appear fair, Thorin reluctantly shook his head. "Rest. I already sent Fili to take a break as well. You are both still healing."

Disappointed, Kili nodded.

A middle-aged dwarf bustled up to the king, bowed and asked him something in a low voice. Thorin growled. "That is a relic of Durin IV. No, you can't 'just shift' it to clean it. King Thrain the Old brought it here when he founded Erebor. You'll need a full crew. It's not replaceable!"

Lord Elrond nodded. "A good dwarf, Durin IV."

King Thorin nodded absently. Kili though looked up, surprised. "You've heard of him?"

"Met him." Lord Elrond gave a small smile at his suddenly awed grandchild.

All the dwarves around them fell quiet. Even King Thorin.

"You ...met ... King Durin IV?" Balin stepped forward out of the group, his eyes alight.

"Fought with him on the plains of Dagorlad."

Someone moaned. Lord Elrond sensed he was still not trusted, and still an object of ire, but now he also had aroused the curiousity of the dwarves.

"What was he like?" Kili asked in a hoarse whisper. There was little that dwarves liked more than a good tale of battle, especially about one of their own. "History calls it the last great alliance of Men and Elves. But we were there."

The Elf Lord caught a wry glance from his son, who knew that Elrond wasn't overly fond of relating stories of bloodshed and death. And yet. The Lord of Rivendell looked down into the eager and wide-eyed gaze of a certain mixed-blood grandchild and could not resist.

"The dwarves were indeed there." Elrond nodded, his voice warming. "And I recall Durin IV as being quite the warrior, proud and strong. Of all the kings entering that battle, he was one of the few who survived."

Grins and backslaps moved around the room as the dwarves turned to hover around Lord Elrond eagerly.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elladan caught sight of his brother and hurried forward. "Fancy a ride today?"

Elrohir looked up from where he was speaking with Mithrandir and the halfling he'd met earlier, Bilbo Baggins.

"Always." Elrohir smiled easily, his heart eager to see the change in his twin. Ever since Bainnid had been killed, it was if the light within his soul had withered to a mere spark. He'd healed, to a degree, fighting and training with the Men of the North, the Rangers. Living to battle the orcs that had stolen his love. Yet since learning of his son's existance, it was as if his brother were slowly returning.

"You, me, Fili and Kuilaith." Elladan seemed pleased, and more than a little nervous.

Mithrandir smiled and Bilbo, well the halfling was confused. The wizard leaned in toward him. "Kuilaith is Kili."

His expression clearing, Bilbo smiled most sweetly, almost looking like a child despite his being comfortably middle-aged for a hobbit. "Just don't ask them to watch the ponies."

The Gray Wizard laughed at that. Sensing a story, Elrohir smiled, but Mithrandir just waved off the question. "Ask the lads."

"Father may want to join us." Elrohir mentioned.

Elladan shook his head. "He's surrounded by dwarves, young Kili included, regalling them with battle tales of Dagorlad and Durin IV and the One Ring."

"Ring?" Bilbo piped up, his attention caught.

Smiling, Elrohir nodded in understanding. "But he agreed to go riding with us?"

"What ring?" The halfling asked, patting his vest pocket in a habit that he'd picked up recently.

"Yes." Elladan told his twin brother. "But I need to find Fili and make sure he can come. I think it will help Kuilaith to feel more comfortable."

Bilbo was ready to ask about the ring again, but a mental tangent interrupted his line of thought. "Why do you call him Kili one moment, and Kuilaith the next?"

Elladan pushed his straight dark hair behind his ears and sighed. "Because my child is not yet comfortable with the thought of being other than Kili."

"It is good to move slower." The wizard mused. "Swooping in here ready to carry off a missing child? Kili is hardly that, in his own eyes much less that of his dwarven kin."

"So you have said." Elladan's mouth twisted with regret. "Perhaps we were too quick, but my anger over this goes deep."

"I thought Elves were always calm and measured?" Bilbo asked quietly.

Elrohir chuckled lightly. "Father's father was half-elven, and in turn his father was of Men, Tuor was his name. But Tuor's wife was Idril, a Noldor elf and princess. The Lady Galadriel is also of the Noldor."

Bilbo shook his head, this meaning little to him.

Mithrandir chuckled. "Elladan and Elrohir have noble Noldor blood from both sides of their lineage."

The halfling nodded as if this information was clear, then paused and shook his head. "No, I still don't understand."

Elrohir leaned casually against the long table. "The Noldor were called the 'Deep Elves' for their love of knowledge and words. They were also known for being great warriors."

Gandalf smiled rather fondly at the twins. "It was said that the Noldor were the proudest of the elves. And that they required 'room to quarrel in'."

Elladan bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Despite our rather mixed heritage, we have strong blood ties to the Noldor. On both sides. Which means ...we have to work on holding our temper sometimes."

Bilbo whistled softly and gave a shy smile. "I'll admit that I've not quite met the Lady Galadriel, though she seems lovely." He didn't admit that something about the glowing elven female put him in a cautious frame of mind. Almost as if something in him wanted to stay far away from her beauty. His hand went once more to pat his vest pocket, and the hidden treasure within.

Elrohir gave a wry smile. "Our mother's mother is lovely, no doubt can be held. But she does have a temper as well, although she hides it better than most."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

King Thranduil sighed unhappily, waiting in the main hall with Glorfindel. "Has the dratted messenger gotten lost? How long does it take to inform the Lady that I have acted upon her ... request?" He ignored the dwarf standing next to him.

Dwalin looked up at the ...guests, his face gloomy.

If Glorfindel secretly thought that Galadriel hadn't 'requested' anything so much as stated what she wanted and then waited for it to be done ...he didn't say so aloud.

"At last." King Thranduil drew up to his full height and gave a welcoming smile as the Lady of Light walked toward him.

"It is done?" Galadriel asked with an arched brow, her eyes not warming nor as welcoming as he would have liked. Apparently she was still not happy that he had thrown the son of her daughter's son into a prison cell.

"Why you would request such a thing is beyond me, but it has been arranged." Thranduil bowed his head very slightly.

The area around them grew chill.

Thranduil's head dipped a bit lower. He didn't react, struggling with his innate ability to adjust to temperature conditions.

"Good." The Lady moved away, gliding swiftly and gracefully.

"Damn." Glorfindel breathed out, his word causing a puff of visible breath from the cold.

The two elves looked around at the few dwarves in the area. They were watching the two tall interlopers curiously. They certainly weren't feeling the cold.

Dwalin seemed confused, wondering why the elves looked so odd.

Glorfindel and Thranduil looked at each other for a long moment. Then the King of Mirkwood sighed. "I know she's angry at me for imprisoning the dwarves. But what about you?"

"No idea." Glorfindel shook his head, willing the warmth back into his arms.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elladan spotted his quarry without much hunting.

Fili looked up at the tall elf hovering over him with a weather eye. "Which damned twin are you?"

"The damned one wed to your mother." Came the dry and not terribly happy response.

The blond winced, but didn't move. "You're not my father. I don't have to spend time with you."

Elladan looked down at the less than hospitable young dwarf and reached over to grab a chair, pulling it over so that he could sit and look at Fili.

"I don't know where my brother is." Fili said coolly, deliberately turning his gaze away.

"I do." Elladan responded. "Listening to my father's battle stories."

A look of consternation crossed the blond's expression, and then melted back into a rather flat affect.

"I want to talk to you."

Instantly suspicious, Fili frowned sharply.

"I'm not here to hurt your brother." Elladan said quietly. "He's my son."

This made Fili wince and take a deep breath. It was obvious that he was still struggling to assimilate this new side of his younger brother.

"It was smart, calling in your braid bead like you did."

Fili gave a sharp single nod of his head, refusing to be cajoled out of his dislike. "Actually, I once made a vow on that bead to beat your ass into the ground for leaving Kili behind."

Surprised, Elladan's eyes widened a bit. "Still feel that way?"

The blond dwarven heir shrugged. "Now I want to destroy you for coming to steal him." He admitted with more than a little bite in his tone.

"Honest." The elven father nodded sagely. "My own anger at being kept from ...Kili, is great."

Fili caught the moment that Elladan deliberately didn't use the new elven name for his brother.

"And I find that I'm angry that I didn't get a chance to see you grow as well."

Fili's face contorted with abject anger, rejecting the comment out of hand. "You have no right!"

"I accepted your mother as my wife. I formally accepted you as my son, acting as your second-father. I believe the Nute'adad by your reckoning."

Shocked, Fili glared at him and Elladan had to remind himself that this was no child, but a full grown adult dwarf. "Khulum, gelek emnu caragu rukhs!"

"I didn't come after you because your mother left with you. I did not feel that I had a right to claim you in that way. Not from her. I did not know she carried your brother as well."

Fili snarled. "You are a fool. And stupid for talking with me. I will not aid your cause!"

Elladan sighed, unsure how to explain. "I was ...dying on the inside. My love had been killed. Your mother was in a very dark place as well, with the death of your father. We ...abided. Fell in line with what our families wanted of us, but both of us were hurting."

Fili swallowed hard, not remembering that part of his life much at all. "I don't want to know this."

"We didn't live in Ered Luin nor in Imladris. Your mother was highly uncomfortable around too many elves. We chose a residence on elven land, but closer to human settlements than Imladris."

"Rivendell?" Fili couldn't help the question.

Elladan nodded. "Yes, Imladris is Rivendell."

"Why did she leave you?" Fili asked, unable to keep his tongue still. "What did you do to her?"

The elf father sighed and shrugged. "I can not say. She was unhappy, I know that. Grieving. Then the news came that her grandfather was dead and her father missing. When she left for Ered Luin I knew she would not return."

"You let her go." There was anger, hurt and even a hint of betrayal in the young dwarf's voice.

"I did not want to force her to stay." Countered Elladan. "There's a difference."

"You sound almost calm." Fili pointed out ruthlessly. "For someone claiming to be so angry ..."

Elladan shook his head. "I'm over two millenia old. I've had some practice hiding my feelings. Trust me, my anger still rages. I have missed seventy-eight years of your brother's life. And the entirety of your own childhood."

"You don't remember me." Fili accused flatly.

Elladan snorted. "You? You were the one to steal my best riding boots and fill them with pond water, to give the tadpoles a place to grow."

Choking suddenly, Fili shook his head. "Did not!"

"So I swear!" Elladan smiled as he recalled the event. "You practiced braiding on Elrohir's hair, you don't remember that?"

The blond dwarf shook his head slowly. "No. Not your hair?"

"No." The elf chuckled wryly. "I knew what you'd been eating before you wanted to learn how to braid." He paused, then shrugged. "Jam toast. You had very sticky fingers."

Fili managed not to smile or laugh, but his huge rage was moving into a simmer.

"Elrohir grumbled for a week."

"But you let us go." Fili's mood sobered, and Elladan lost his own smile.

"I was a fool." The dark-haired elf admitted. "And Elrohir blacked my eye for it too."

"You two fight?" The dwarf asked, shocked to the core.

Elladan chuckled ruefully. "Rarely now, more when we were younger. You don't fight with Kili?"

"Some." Admitted the blond with great reluctance. "Not a lot. I had to look out for him."

"Because he was smaller and younger?" Elladan guessed.

Fili shrugged. "Tall, but not wider or stronger. Didn't know he wasn't full dwarf, of course. And he's ...there's something about him. You can't help but love Kili."

Kuilaith. The name suited him well. Elladan smiled, no small amount of regret behind his expression. "No. You can't help it."

Fili looked at the tall elf for a long moment. "I can't promise not to hate you. And I will not help you take Kili away."

"Just come riding with us this afternoon." Elladan asked, his gray eyes careful...

The blond dwarf shook his head. "So that Kili will come and be more comfortable? Around you? No."

"So that you can make sure he doesn't have a good time." Elladan countered smoothly. "Make sure he doesn't relax."

Fili growled, muttering.

"What does khulum, gelek emnu caragu rukhs mean?"

"Elf, you smell like orc dung." Fili told him with ill humor.

Elladan smiled. "You and your brother both seem to have a gift with words."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You're cheating!" Fili accused, looking up at Elladan as they both walked into the courtyard.

Elladan's lips thinned, staring hard at the stranger talking to his son. An elf. A pretty red-haired elf who had his son laughing and completely at ease. "Who is she?"

Fili looked back and forth between the two. "You didn't send for Tauriel?"

"I don't know her." Elladan said, a chill in his voice.

Feeling a bit better, Fili grunted. "You were hoping to spend time with Kili on this ride, get to know him better. But here he is enjoying someone else's company. That's got to burn."

The tall elf turned away, looking off toward the stables. Only brightening as his twin brother came over leading two extra mounts.

Fili looked and counted the horses. Tall, gorgeous, prancing, majestic animals of superlative bloodlines. Each spirited and ... big. Five. Five such animals. "Where are the ponies?"

Elrohir laughed, handing the reins to a gray stallion to Fili just as Kili and Tauriel walked up to join them. "Ponies? That reminds me. Bilbo told me to ask you two about the ponies."

Fili and Kili both stiffened, pointing at each other. "It was his fault." They both said, at the same time.

Elladan snorted, shaking his head, some of his good mood returning. "I definitely sense a story here."

Kili looked up at the horses. And up. Really high up. "Seriously, where are our ponies?"

Elrohir looked shocked, stooping down to pick up a protesting Kili and putting him in the saddle. "Let me just adjust the stirrups."

Kili's eyes were huge. "Uhm?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Glorfindel stepped up next to Lady Galadriel as they stood on the ornamental parapet overlooking the courtyard. He smiled. "Fili and Kili look ...nervous."

Galadriel smiled.

"Do I have you to thank for having Kili tell me that 'much wind pours from my mouth'?" The golden haired warrior asked.

Amused eyes glanced at the slender elf warrior. "It was kinder than what you had him say to me."

Glorfindel winced slightly. "That was meant for Elladan. To break the tension." He leaned over the balustrade for a better look below. "Who's the red-haired elf maid?"

Galadriel laughed lightly. "Someone I invited. From Mirkwood."

"You know her?" The golden warrior asked, his voice dubious.

"We have not yet met." Galadriel admitted. "But I've seen her before." She didn't say that this had been in her great grandchild's thoughts.

"Could work." Glorfindel nodded, pursing his lips. "Might not."

"I have sent for reinforcements as well." The Lady of Light said quietly. And then refused to elaborate further.


	9. In which new questions arise

"And who, exactly, is Tauriel?" Thorin's calm voice did not mask his aggravation and barely leashed temper. He dismissed the dwarven messenger who had interrupted the meeting and closed the door once more.

Legolas, sitting next to his father at the large conference table, started to answer. A swift hand movement from his father across from him, had the blond elven prince staying silent.

Bain cleared his throat, looking eager as only a youngster could. He knew this answer. "She's the elf-lady who fought off the orcs at our house in Lake Town. The one who treated Kili's leg wound, saved his life."

Bard did not admonish his son and heir for speaking up, although he'd only brought the youth to listen and learn.

The once grand conference room of Erebor had seen better days. But the tenancy of a dragon had made a caricature of the once proud glory of this gathering place. It had been scoured clean, but the table's inlays and silver filigrees seemed dulled by tarnish and even chipped in places.

Bard wasn't sure if the missing parts of the giant table had been made by dragon fangs, or dragon claws.

Thorin's cold-eyed gaze turned to King Thranduil. "One of yours, I believe. And don't mark me as ungrateful for her assistance in binding my nephew's wounds. But she was hardly instrumental in saving the lad's life."

Legolas fairly twitched in his seat, unable to remain silent despite his father's unspoken admonition. "It was a morgal-shaft that struck him! If not for Tauriel's intervention, he would not have lived past midnight!"

Balin coughed and felt the need to add something. "She's the red-haired she-elf who fought to protect you and both young princes. During the battle." He did not have to explain which battle.

Thorin fell silent, drawing in a deep breath which was returned as a sigh. "Her." He looked over at Thranduil, who did not meet his eye. "The one Kili was going on and on about."

The group, who had been discussing mutually beneficial trade, repairs, and defence all fell silent.

"Why is she here?" Thorin asked quietly.

Thranduil didn't make any excuses, he simply pursed his lips very lightly. "The Lady of Lorien made a request."

The King Under the Mountain nodded, putting things together in his mind.

"I think he likes her." Bain spoke up, only quieting as Bard finally put a hand on his son's forearm.

Thorin's lips twisted a bit and then he scowled. "Someone to show Kili that elves aren't all like this one." He waved a hand vaguely in Thranduil's direction.

The Elven King, if he took offense, showed no change in his haughty expression.

Balin shook his head. Time. Fili had bargained for time. But the dwarves didn't have the time to spare. Sauron was loose upon the land. Orcs, goblins, trolls, and even the Men from the East were making movements and gathering strength. The Men of Dale, the Elves of Mirkwood, and the Dwarves of Erebor were having to band together in unheralded alliances.

Erebor's dwarves were not at full strength. The mountain kingdom had been the domain of a dragon for too long. Everything was in need of repair. Food was scarce, and their numbers low.

Dain was bringing back dwarves from Ered Luin, and leaving some of his warriors here for the time being. But as a race, the dwarves had been exiles for a very long time. Not an army. Which is what they needed.

"Too much work for even basic security." Thorin muttered, running a rough hand over his face. "Not enough time."

King Thranduil absently picked up his wine glass, sniffing at the excellent vintage with pleasure. It seemed that Smaug the Mighty and Terrible had left Erebor's wine cellars alone. It hadn't held the kind of treasure the dragon coveted. "Perhaps young Kili needs to be exposed to the softer side of Dwarven life."

Thorin sent the elven ruler a speculative glance. "Meaning?"

"Surely, despite the fantastical rumors that flow around Middle Earth, there really are ...females of your own race?" Legolas stepped in, eager to offer a possibility where Tauriel could be replaced in a certain dwarf's affections. He'd been shocked to learn of Kili's parentage, and also upset by the news.

Balin's eyebrows rose as he shared a quick look with his king. "Aye. Aye there are."

"But none will be sent here until it is safe." Thorin scowled deeply, his hands moving to rest clasped behind his back.

Bard had nothing against Tauriel, or her being here. He had liked young Kili well enough, but his priorities were on Dale and the need to repair and reclaim that city. "What do you need?"

Thorin's eyebrows furrowed as he turned to look at the human archer, the slayer of Smaug.

"To make Erebor safe for the return of your womenfolk. What do you need of us?" Bard asked, his countenance open as he spread his hands. "From you we need materials as well as cash to repair what we can."

Balin sucked in a breath, holding it as he watched for Thorin's reaction. His king had fallen to the fever of gold and madness prior to the Battle of Five Armies. He'd recovered after coming so close to losing everything. But would it stand?

Thorin closed his eyes for a long moment, and the group fell into silence. Finally, the King Under the Mountain grunted. Then he spoke. "We can not mine yet. The shafts have to be inspected, I will not waste lives needlessly."

Bard and Thanduil shared a look. It was a measured and reasonable statement, but ...

But Thorin wasn't done. "However, there were stocks of raw materials in storage." He admitted slowly. "Not precious ores, but iron and steel."

Bard's expression lightened as he listened. "Even with raw materials, we do not have the facility to make enough armor and weapons in a short time." They only had three blacksmiths trained well enough.

"We do." Thorin's head bowed slightly and his expression turned grim. "What we lack are the basics. Wood, which we can gather but it takes hands away from needier things. Fabrics. Healing supplies. Defensive numbers, again with persons we can not spare." He sighed. "Food."

Thranduil nodded at the frank assessment, surprised that Thorin sounded almost reasonable. "I have food stock to ...share. Fabrics, healing materials."

"Wood we can help with. Food, we can supply some." Bard grimaced. "But numbers, numbers we have. If I can but get them properly armed."

"Properly armed?" Thorin scoffed, his mood rising a bit as he glanced at the bowman. "Like the weapons you first offered me and mine?"

Taking his cue from the dwarven king, Bard gave a light chuckle. "More like the ones you attempted to liberate." He admitted.

Thorin turned to Thranduil, he sighed deeply, and with no small amount of regret. "And do I dare ask what you would have of Erebor?"

The Elven King shrugged lightly, his eyes never leaving the rim of his wine glass.

"I know what you are after." Thorin admitted, leaning forward a bit. "I will tell you, we have not yet located the box containing those particular stones."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Thorin held up a hand. "However, I am seeking them. When I was younger, I was not a part of withholding them from your kind. Still, I would not simply give them away in trade."

The eyes of the Elven King rose at those words. Not so much because of the words themselves, but at the tone in which they were offered. Reassuring. Open. Grudgingly honest. And while perhaps not respectful, not unrespectful either.

"We will share our raw materials, even our labor in the armory. We search for your treasures. Will you ...join with us?"

Thranduil watched and weighed Thorin's face and eyes, as if measuring his worth and his honesty. Finally, the High Elf nodded regally. "If you would allow some of your fine vintage to travel to the Mirkwood as well, on the return trip we will fill your pantries to overflowing and stock your healing halls."

Balin made a motion with his hand and Thorin held his palm outstretched, quieting his counselor. "For a crate of this wine, will you allow your healer to share some lore with ours?"

Thranduil's eyebrows rose and he sipped his wine with great appreciation. "For a crate? I will allow them to train your healers for an entire season."

Thorin sat back in his chair, cautiously pleased. Erebor was on the way to restoration. He thought of his once proud home, and his mind automatically went to it's future. His heirs. The king sighed. "How much wine would it take to get you to send Tauriel, lovely and brilliant as she may be, back to Mirkwood?"

Legolas scowled, for that was his wish as well.

King Thranduil actually sighed and shook his head slightly. "She is no longer a captain among my guards. The Lady of Lorien has requested her service and I ...granted this request."

No one there was under any misgivings that this request had been other than an outright demand.

"Tauriel has no say in the matter?" Bard asked, just to be sure.

"She agreed. Willingly." Legolas' voice was devoid of bitterness, but also empty of every other emotion as well. "It is an honor to be asked to serve the Lady of Light."

Thorin grunted. He'd thought so.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elladan sent a furtive gander over at the duo. He couldn't seem to help himself.

"Leave them be." Elrohir lifted his own gaze over at his young nephew and the Silvan elf. "They get along well."

"Too well." The anxious father looked over at them again, then turned back to his amused twin brother. "You seem too happy."

Elrohir gave an elegant shrug of his shoulders and settled back, leaning against a large shade tree. "These dwarves, they aren't much for horses."

Fili groaned, lying back in the leaves and staring up at the sky. "These dwarves have ears you know."

"Didn't think you were talking to us." Elrohir commented wryly.

"Too busy hanging on for dear life." Admitted the blond dwarf laconically.

Elladan snorted a bit at that. "Ponies more your style, I presume?"

"All we had." Fili said, his clipped tone showing he was getting irate on the subject. "I hurt right now."

Elrohir shook his head slightly. "I saw stables at Erebor. Extensive."

Fili sighed, apparently he wasn't going to be allowed to suffer in peace. "Thorin and mam ..." He paused, having not meant to bring Dis into the conversation. Quickly he got to his point, "speak of Altai horses."

Elrohir nodded thoughtfully, ignoring the mention of the lad's mother. "Mountain breed, smaller builds than the ones we brought with us. Hardy. Definitely not ponies though." He winced thinking of the fire damage he'd seen down in the Erebor stables.

"Uncle has already sent out inquiries for breeding stock." Fili admitted, closing his eyes and letting the late afternoon breeze waft over him. A rock was under one shoulder and he shifted, the groan escaping him without thought. He ached. "Can we walk back?"

"She's petting his hair." Elladan's comment pulled a smile from the young dwarf. "Does that mean anything?"

Fili grinned at the discomfort in the elf's well being. The last he'd seen Tauriel was leaning against a tree, Kili laying down next to her. Not touching except for her hand in his dark tresses. "Is she braiding his hair?"

"No." Came the grumpy reply.

"Then they're not about to make you a grand-sire." Fili said with a big smile. Elrohir laughed at that. "Did you really blacken your brother's eye?"

The two elf twins looked at each other, and then down at Fili, who still had his eyes closed. "Which time?" One of them asked.

It must of been Elrohir who asked, because Elladan answered. "I told him about how you'd been angry when I didn't chase after him and Dis."

"Ah." A very male chuckle. "Aye, I did."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want my brother to fade." The voice didn't sound so light-hearted this time. Instead, the tone was nearly flat. Detached.

Ignoring his aches, Fili sat up, turning to look at the twin leaning back agains the tree. "Fade?"

Elladan looked back over at his son and the Silvan elf, wondering just who she was and why she was really there. Leaving Elrohir to explain about elves, heartbreak, and fading.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili smiled up at Tauriel, basking in the carefree moment. Away from all the turmoil. Away from ...well, crap. He wasn't away from the elves. "You're an elf."

"Observant dwarf you are." She said, clearly amused as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"It's just ...you don't feel like an elf."

Tauriel's green eyes widened slightly and her freckles moved as her nose wrinkled a bit. He watched her face, mesmerized.

"And what does an elf feel like, then?" The she-elf asked archly.

"Honestly?" Kili sighed. "Fear."

Surprised, Tauriel looked down on him, her face reflecting uncertainty.

"Not physical fear, like before a battle. You can build yourself up to face an army of goblins and wargs." Kili said slowly, his eyes a bit unfocused as he stared up into the canopy of leaves and bits of sky above them. "Fear of letting people down. Of owing what I can't pay."

She knew he wasn't speaking of financial payments, but emotional ones. "Do you know why I'm here?" She asked instead.

Kili grinned and turned his head so he could get a good long look at her beautiful face. "I can guess."

"The Lady didn't tell me. But I would assume so that you had a friendly face among the elves that you already trust."

"I trust you?" He made it a soft question.

Tauriel gave him a soft look in return. "I can only hope so."

"Are you going to try and talk me into going with my newly discovered relatives?" He pressed.

She shook her head, making her long red hair move around her shoulders alluringly. "No. I want you to do what you want to do."

He reached over his head and captured her hand in his own, bringing it from his hair to his lips. Slowly, lest she pull away, he pressed a sweet kiss to the back of her hand. "See, an elf on my side."

"Who else is on your side?" She asked, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

"Fili." Was the immediate response. And that was it.

"That's a short list." She didn't ask the obvious question, such as about his uncle or long list of cousins. And he didn't offer any further explanations.

Kili turned his attention back to the sky above him, although he kept her hand in his own. A short list? Once upon a time that list would have been far longer. Mam, uncle, dwalin, balin, and on and on.

But mam had kept secrets. Big assed secrets. Huge secrets. Leaving him on his own to think horrible things about his father that just weren't so. Not that she'd ever lied. But there was so much left out.

Uncle. Uncle loved him, he was sure. But Kili also knew that Thorin was only ever on Thorin's side. Complicated dwarf, the king. He was on Kili's side for now. But if what he wanted and what his uncle wanted ever differed ...the young dwarf's mouth tilted downward. It wouldn't be Kili's side winning.

The elves. Oh, he decided, he might as well just lump them all in one great big pile. Great-grandma with witch, grandfather the war hero, father and uncle the great warriors training the Rangers and legendary heroes that don't know enough to stay buried once dead. They were on their own side. His wishes be damned. Sure, they had a valid point. And he'd be pissed off too if his son had been basically stolen. But that son wasn't an infant anymore and he had wishes of his own.

His hand tightend on the soft skin of one of those wishes. "You should have callouses." He mentioned, rubbing his thumb over her palm. "Are my hands too rough?"

"No." She laughed lightly, and his mood lifted.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman sat in his tower. Thinking. That was not unusual.

But after years of work behind the scenes, things had finally come to a head. Sauron was loose and the others of the White Council knew of it now. His long fingernails tapped lightly on the arm of his seat of power and position.

"Gandalf, Gandalf." The White Wizard's voice was highly disdainful, even if no one was around to hear.

Sauron had ...advised ...Saruman of the outcome of the battle for Erebor. But he would have to wait to be informed by more conventional means before reacting openly.

Erebor lost to them wasn't so bad. But the Line of Durin continued. Saruman's lips twisted into a sneer, and then smoothed out completely. Not that they were a problem. No. But what he, and Sauron, had hoped to avoid was any alliance between the Elves, Men and Dwarves.

Such an alliance had once proved too costly to Sauron. He was not eager to face such again. No. That alliance needed to be broken.

Seventy-eight years ago there had been a plan in place to drive an unforgivable wedge between the elves and dwarves. Saruman had thought that plan fruitless. But Sauron now has told him otherwise.

A child. That silly plan had actually worked. A melding of several of the most powerful bloodlines in Middle Earth. "He has to go."

Saruman stood and fairly glided over to his desk, pulling out fine tipped quills as he penned his missive quickly.

Sauron was tied up, seeking his One Ring, chasing rumors. And he was demanding more from Saruman now that he was out in the open. So be it.

"So what if there is a child?" Saruman melted wax on the back of his letter, sealing it with his crest, and a bit of magic as well. "When children die, families are often torn apart at the seams. And the seams between Elves and Dwarves are very fragile in the first place."

He grunted in satisfaction. What had not been won with brute force, could be won by stealth.

And when the Child of Blood died? All their precious alliances would turn against one another.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You are unsettled."

Elrond nodded, then turned eyes far too cautious upon her. "Elladan is unsure of Tauriel."

Galadriel shook her head very, very slightly. "Elladan is unsure. His soul is warming, but he has long dwelled in the shadows of his own grief."

"You think he fears for Kuilaith what he himself has been through?" Lord Elrond posited, thinking of his son's great love, Bainnid, lost forever in death.

"Elladan's heart fears to love fully again. But with Kuilaith, he has no chance to hold back. His heart can find no purchase, no barrier against this child of his." Galadriel smiled gently, thinking of the child in question. Her dark-eyed great-grandchild who could bring forth joy in even the most stalwart hearts.

The Lord of Rivendell gave a soft laugh, shaking his head. "My son is returning to us. It is slow. And the sweeter emotions are harder to reconnect with than the darker ones. Anger and fear come first. Longing. Despair. But it is better than that nothingness, that void where he used to dwell."

"We are here for him as well as his child." The Lady bowed her head in acknowledgement. "You take your leave on the morrow?"

"I do." Elrond took a deep breath. "Can you see anything?" He did not mean this question for himself, but for his grandson. And the Lady knew that all too well.

"All is veiled." Galadriel's eyes closed, as if it pained her to admit this. "I too have no barriers to Kuilaith. His presence draws my heart as well. I would wish him happy, but that is not a magic that exists."

The elf-lord sighed. "Like my own child, his journey will also take time. I would like to take him back to Rivendell. But ...the more I am here, the less anger clouds my judgement."

"He loves his dwarven kin." The Lady gave a sad smile. "And they him. But ...he his not wholly dwarf. And I sense he has at times been apart from them in his thinking."

"Not apart from his brother." Elrond commented dryly. "Those two ..."

"Indeed." Galadriel agreed. "I too have sensed this bond. And I have no little admiration for young Fili and his use of his request to gain time."

"Kuilaith will outlive his brother. By how long is unknown, but the healer thinks he might live as long as four times the ordinary life-span of a dwarf."

The Lady considered this and then shook her head. "My thought is possibly as long as five times. I do not think he will be offered a choice of an Eldar life."

Elrond's heart broke at the thought of losing Kili, even if that might not happen for 1,000 to 1,250 years. "Would he have been offered that choice if he'd been Awakened as an infant?" His voice sounded suddenly hoarse, even to his own ears.

Galadriel turned her gaze on him, her eyes saddened. "No. I think his blood is too mixed. He was born mortal, and that will not change."

Elrond nodded, a bit relieved that the chance at immortality had not been wrenched from his grandson through the actions of his mother. He cleared his throat, wanting to change the subject. "Tauriel?"

Galadriel's smile lit up her features. "Delightful child. Young. Arwen will be good for her, lighten her up. And she for Arwen, grounding her better."

"You can't make them be friends." Elrond admonished his wife's mother. "Any more than you can wish a person happiness."

The Lady of Light gave a small breathy sound which might have been agreement.

"She is young." Elrond continued. "And Kuilaith even younger. Too young to think of romance."

Galadriel's eyes sparkled a bit at that. "Not according him, he thinks of himself as adult. And perhaps nothing romantic will come about. But she is a friend to him. Saved his life."

Elrond's eyebrows shot up.

"She was the one who addressed the morgal wound in his thigh. Without her, you never would have met your grandchild." Galadriel confided.

Nuluin had told him about the healed wound, a fearsome thing. Elrond tilted his head to the side and sighed. "Then I owe this Tauriel more than can be repaid."

"She didn't do it for payment." Galadriel's voice turned airy and light. "She did it against Thranduil's knowledge or wish. She did this deed for a young and handsome dwarven prince who had no ties to anyone Elven. No payment was sought or asked for."

"And no payment would be welcome?" He guessed with a short laugh. "I understand."

"She is Silvan."

Lord Elrond looked over at his wife's mother, surprised. "This bothers you?"

"It bothers Thranduil, when his son would look in that direction." Galadriel gave away nothing of what she was thinking.

"But does it bother you, Lady?" Elrond persisted.

The Lady of Light smiled brightly. "I would only wish him happy if it were mine to give."

"Be his wish High, Sindar, Silvan, Dwarf or even Human?"

Galadriel shook her head, her smile never dimming. "Only happy."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"What's the matter?" Kili yawned, stretching, which only pulled on his still healing ribs. He winced.

Fili shook his head. His mind still reeling from this afternoon, and what he'd learned.

"Uncle Thorin is wanting to see us before he retires." Kili reminded his brother, who looked rather distant. "Did something happen today?"

The blond prince shook his head again. "Am fine. Thorin is meeting with the captains from the Iron Hills, it runs long."

Kili nodded, then grinned. "Bilbo baked the most delicious apple tarts for dessert." He winked. "And I know where he hid a few to make them last a few days."

Fili grinned, and his brother went off to retrieve the promised treat. His grin dimming as he watched Kili move through the room. It was going to come out. The elves weren't hiding the truth. And Dis was on her way.

How was Kili to react?

Fili groaned, rubbing his hands against his face. The marriage between Elladan and Dis had been to get another dwarven heir yes. But also to keep the elf from fading. Dying. And when Dis had left, taking Fili with her, she had to know that Elladan's grip on this world was still fragile.

"Damn it." Fili gritted his teeth, more tired than he cared to admit.

He and Kili had talked almost the entire night the day of the goblin battle. His younger brother had been resolute that he harbored no real anger at their mother, who loved them both so much.

But the more Fili learned, the angrier HE was getting.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elladan, Elrohir and Glorfindel were seated together and sharing a glass of wine. Elrohir was telling about their day, and how relaxed young Kili was in the presence of a beautiful elf-maid.

"It doesn't have to be Tauriel." Elladan protested.

Glorfindel pursed his lips, then shook his head. "She's not the first elf-maid the lad has seen. Yet he appears particularly taken with this one."

"Ignore my brother. He's jealous that his son wants to spend more time chatting with a beauty, than getting to know a father he's unsure he even wants."

"He kissed her hand." Elladan grumbled.

Glorfindel put his glass down, looking suddenly serious. "Watch out. Take your eyes off the lad for too long and he'll end up marrying her without even knowing that's what he's doing."

Elladan made a disparaging noise and a rather rude gesture for an elf of his bloodlines.

It was Elrohir who looked stunned, his eyes wide, as he choked on his wine. Glorfindel slapped him on the back, all to be helpful. "I but jest."

Elrohir coughed and sputtered, then took a deep breath and looked steadily at the other two. "What do either of you know about dwarven sexual practices or wedding stuff?"

Glorfindel waved a hand in the air and shrugged, to show he knew nothing. Elladan shook his head.

"Oh come on." The golden-haired warrior teased. "You married a dwarven princess, you have to know."

Elladan blushed a bit. "There was a ceremony. Saruman spoke, and Dis' grandfather said a few words in Khuzdul. Frankly, it was the wedding night that made it a marriage for me. You know our customs."

Sexual relations equalled marriage to the elves. A sharing of the bodies was intimate, and meant that the hearts were forever linked as well. No ceremony was necessary.

Elrohir hated to bring it up. "What if Kili is married by elvish customs, and doesn't even know it? He was thought of as an adult among the dwarves after all."

Elladan's face blanked. Glorfindel near choked on his own wine, his eyes wide and shocked. All three cursed roundly at rose swiftly, moving as one through the halls of Erebor.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili and Fili were leaving Thorin's private study with both Balin and Dwalin. All were laughing and talking, and if Fili was a bit quieter than usual, he didn't appear upset over anything obvious.

All four fell silent as three tall elves turned the corner and almost slid to a halt in front of them.

"Lads?" Balin asked, ignoring the irony of him calling them that only because they looked younger than he did. Not because they actually were younger by any stretch. "Something wrong?"

"We need to speak with Kuilaith." Glorfindel said, his eyes still a bit wide. He coughed. "I mean Kili, of course."

Dwalin looked back and forth between the three elven warriors, his expression cautious. "You look like you've seen ghosts this night."

"Just a question has arisen." Elrohir stammered a bit.

Surprised, Kili looked at Fili, who shrugged.

Thorin threw open his door, looking irate. "By Nain's bearded ass, what goes on out here? The hour grows late and you all have full days tomorrow."

Kili pointed at the three elves. His father, his uncle, and then there was the elf-warrior of old.

"Well?" Thorin barked, clearly impatient.

"Um." Elrohir looked at Glorfindel. The golden-haired slayer of the balrog turned red in the cheeks. So he turned to Elladan. "He's your son, you ask."

Elladan looked uncertain, glancing up and down the hallway. "Perhaps in private?"

"What do you lot need to know?" Thorin roared.

"If he's a virgin." Elladan rushed the words out quickly.

Everyone stilled, Balin's mouth even dropped open in shock.

Thorin stared at them for a long moment and perhaps realized they were utterly serious. He stepped aside and made a sweeping gesture. "Perhaps private would be better."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"So." Thorin steepled his fingers together, trying to gather the remnants of his dignity together. "Elven marriage is based on the act of sexual congress?"

Fili snickered and Kili kicked at him, which the blond dodged easily.

"If he has had sex with a person, according to Elvish law. He's married." Elladan looked apologetic. "I'm only sorry that we didn't think to ask earlier."

"What if he's had sex with more than one woman?" Dwalin asked, completely serious.

All three elves paled alarmingly. Fili's snicker turned into an outright laugh.

Thorin stared at his eldest nephew long enough for the blond to get it under control. He looked over at the stunned younger son of his sister. "Has your body woken up?"

Kili shook his head emphatically.

Thorin thumped his desk with the flat of his hand, relieved to end this conversation. "There you go. Unmarried." He started to stand and escort all of these fools out of his office.

"Have you kissed anyone?" Elrohir asked quietly.

Thorin sat back down with a huge sigh, his left eye starting to twitch. "My sister-son's body is not awake. He can not have married anyone by your traditions."

"But he could have made promises, all unknowing." Elrohir said just as quietly. "Kissing and preludes to sexual acts are shared only with those you love and are promising to wed."

Silence. Balin dared not look at Dwalin or he might start laughing at the bright red cheeks on the youngest heir of the king. Fili was back to snickering, drawing angry looks from his sibling.

Thorin sighed and rolled his aching shoulders. "Kili? You been kissing anyone?"

"Define kiss." He said weakly.

Shocked, Thorin stared at his nephew and shook his head. "Mouth to mouth."

"No." Kili's voice was low and his shoulders hunching a bit. Thorin glared at him in accusation. "I kissed Barla on the cheek once and she ...turned toward me by mistake. Does that mean anything?" He sounded absolutely terrified of the answer.

At the mention of their distant, and much older cousin, Fili slid out of his chair while laughing. Balin had to look away, lest he join the lad. Even Thorin's lips twitched. Of the dwarves, only Dwalin remained stoic.

"Romantically?" Elladan asked.

Kili's entire face lit up red as he shook his head.

"Familially." Thorin sighed. "She's distantly related."

Fili threw his arm over his eyes, still on the floor. "He kissed Tauriel's hand today." This time Kili's boot connected with his brother's thigh. "Ouch, damn it!"

"Allowable." Elladan sat back in his chair, relieved.

Kili began to breathe again.

Elrohir looked at the dwarves quietly. "You use the phrase 'woken up' ...what does that mean?"

Kili's face flamed again and he sunk down lower in his chair, wishing the ground would open up beneath him.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	10. In which lessons are begun

Thorin stared at the elves who just happened to be relatives of his nephew by a bizarre plot of his grandfather's. They stared back at him, not with an eagerness to learn about dwarves, but with an almost apologetic air.

Balin coughed. "That is ...rather a personal question to a dwarf."

Elladan nodded, trying to show that he knew that the elves were treading in on areas most considered private. "My son." It was a statement, but also an explanation for asking such a question in the first place.

Kili winced. Being the son in question. As well as it being his private life they were invading. Rudely invading, in his opinion. "Is this really necessary?"

"My son." Elladan's voice firmed. "Is at least half-dwarven. But not wholly. For his best interest alone, and to keep cultural miscommunication to a minimum, I regret that I feel we must ask these questions."

"No." The word was a harsh whisper, but everyone heard, and did fall still. Kili looked up, eyes clearly miserable. He opened his mouth, but seemed to be having trouble finding something to say. Finally he groaned. "I don't want to have this conversation. Not now. Not with everyone." He waved at the room.

Elladan looked around the room as well, considering. "Glorfindel?"

The golden-haired warrior nodded, bowing a bit to a surprised Kili and headed for the door.

Thorin smirked, but he gave a grave nod. "Fili? Get out. Dwalin?" Balin too started to rise, but the king shook his head at his advisor and friend.

Kili turned and stared at his uncle on the elvish side of things. Elrohir's eyebrows rose, but he demurred, rising. "I as well."

With the room clearing, Kili found he was able to breathe a bit easier. Until Thorin stood. The King Under the Mountain pointed at Balin and smiled winningly. "You're the one who's been married before."

The white-haired dwarf looked up in surprise and chagrin. Fili stopped at the door, turning to stare. "What? When?"

Kili looked just as shocked as his older brother.

Thorin went to the door of his private study, pushing his eldest nephew out into the hallway forceabley. "Before Smaug." His voice devoid of emotion

Fili's blue eyes clouded at the implication, the door closing on his pained expression as Kili watched.

"I didn't know." The young prince whispered to someone he'd known his entire life.

Balin nodded his head in a stately manner. "I know, laddie. I know."

Elladan did not miss the implication either. He said something lilting and yet somehow incredibly somber in Elvish.

Balin paused, his eyes saddened. "I only caught part of that, my Sindarin is out of practice."

"The light has lost it's brilliance, the stars have dimmed, the clouds cover the sun and the salt of my tears doomed the soil so nothing more will grow." Elladan's voice echoed the pain his words outlined. "It is an old saying."

"A true one." Balin sighed heavily.

Kili shrank into his chair. The elders in the room, both Dwarf and Elf had lost the loves of their hearts. He was nothing more than a child embarrassed at a topic of conversation. Damn.

Balin gave a wistful smile. "Husosorg."

"Bainnid." Elladan said the name as if a knife were twisting in his heart. Even after at least seventy years.

Hearing the two names, Kili felt his eyes prickle and he rubbed them wearily. He wondered at the two lost loves, and what they'd been like. Suddenly he didn't feel quite like the adult he'd been proclaiming himself to be.

"There is a dwarvish saying." Balin gave a weighted sigh. "It roughly translates into the heart of hearts is now a garden of stone."

Kili's dark eyes shot wide with shock to hear this ultra-traditionalist speak of their secret language to a non-dwarf, even in a round-about way.

"Shut your mouth, dwarfling." Balin gave a sad smile. "I did not give away anything secret. And I doubt that this elf does not know that we dwarves indeed have our own language."

"My father is more the scholar, but I do know of the existance of Khuzdul." Elladan gave a short, respectful bow of his head. "I even heard some from King Thror."

Now Balin's mouth dropped open for a moment before he regained his equilibrium. "The wedding." He nodded.

Kili looked away, swallowing with some difficulty. The wedding. Of his mam. To Elladan. He didn't want to think of their marriage. It made all of this seem all too real. "My life is a punch play."

Balin snorted, while Elladan only looked confused. The older dwarf explained. "Puppet plays for dwarflings. Lot of fighting and punching, the hero always gets banged up quite a bit."

"What is a puppet?" The elf asked, still confused.

"Toy being controlled with strings to tell a story." The white-haired dwarf said with a half-smile.

Elladan nodded, his eyes lighting up with understanding. "We have another name for such a thing."

Balin nodded, unsurprised. "Now then. Waking up. Hmfph. When a male dwarrow is born it is into a body of flesh and blood, not the stone of the first Seven Fathers."

"Durin the Deathless." Elladan gave a brief smile. "I learned this prior to ...well, marrying."

"From King Thror?" Balin asked, curious beyond belief. Still appalled that the king had pulled off such a feat without any of his closest advisors being aware.

"Nay." The elf lord frowned. "I believe it was from Saruman. The White Wizard."

Kili made a choking sound. "Wizards can't even turn off the rain." He said it like he was personally affronted by this lack.

Balin snorted in amusement. "Best to hear dwarf history from a dwarf. So. Flesh and blood we are, but the sexual part of our nature remains cold as the stone from which we originated. Unless we meet and love one who is to be our other half."

Elladan blinked, unsure. "That means what?"

"Nothing pokes out unless we're in love." Kili sighed, closing his eyes and letting his head drop back.

Balin frowned sharply. "Lad, that is a completely crass way of describing a wonderous part of our beings. Who taught you that way?"

"Thorin."

The white-haired dwarf dropped his chin and shook his head in sorrow. "Travesty. Simply a travesty, and him our King."

Elladan looked back and forth between the two, trying to put it all together in his head. "Your bodies don't become hardened unless in love?"

"No." Balin spread his hands as if that explained all. "When a dwarrow 'wakes up' it means his body is reacting to one he loves. Reacting in a way that will create a new generation. Many of our kind never marry, never produce children. For them their craft is all that fills their hearts and they are very happy for it."

The elf lord pushed his hair behind his ears, now looking more confused. "So how did Dis and I?" He pointed at Kili, raising an eyebrow.

Balin smiled sadly. "Dwarrowdams are different than the dwarrows themselves. No need for waking them up, they are fertile. Though some choose not to marry and focus on craftwork as well. It is told that this is because all the Seven Fathers were dwarrow, the females were crafted after the Awakening. Less time being made of stone you see."

Elladan didn't look like he understood everything, but he did manage to get the pertinent parts. "So Kuilaith, excus me ...Kili. Kili's body won't physically be attracted to anyone unless he's in love with them?"

Balin shook his head. Kili stared at the rock face of the ceiling. It was elaborately carved and inlaid with actual mithral and gemstones. His mind was so numb right now that it barely registered. "Thorin said that when a dwarrow 'woke up' then IT would poke out and point him to who he was meant to be with."

A disgusted groan from the elder dwarf drew a sigh from young Kili.

"Has your body ever stirred in such a manner?" Elladan asked his son. For Tauriel, he wanted to ask, but couldn't.

Kili's face heated up again. "Already asked and answered." He muttered.

"No, then." The elf lord seemed curiously satisfied by that answer.

Balin stroked his beard, his mind racing. "The time for a dwarrow's awakening starts anywhere from age 50 to 70 years, or that's when it could possibly start. Older dwarrow have been known to wake up as late as 200 years, although that's rather a late time and is a rare occurrence. Sexual maturity for elves would be?"

"At least a century." Elladan answered without embarrassment. "Perhaps at 90, but certainly no sooner."

Kili groaned. "Sure, hang another sign on me saying that I'm still a child."

Balin chuckled. "Hardly. What I'm getting at is that since Kili will no doubt live a longer life than most dwarrow, his body may just not be mature enough yet to 'wake up'. Even if he has met one that he could love."

Elladan stilled, not wanting his son to yet ask how lengthy a time he might live. Having Kili learn that he will long outlive his loved ones was not a discussion he wanted to have before he was more sure of a few things. His son was already hurting far too much.

Kili's head popped up and he gave a tentative smile. "So, I could have met my love and just because things haven't poked out ... she could still be my love?"

"Crude. But yes." Balin sighed. "Let us start over from the beginning."

"Why?" Kili asked with a moan.

"Because Thorin has a lot to answer for." Balin muttered sourly.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Why does a mixed blood mongrel still sit so close to the throne of Erebor? He should be removed from the line of succession." Muttered an angry looking dwarrow with a blade scar across his craggy features. The scar crossed over his cheek and forehead, but spared his eye. Barely.

His companion frowned sharply, uncomfortable. Both had arrived with Dain Ironfoot, from the Iron Hills. Both were chafing at being directed around by those few who had come to be known as the Company. "Don't let any of King Thorin's pets hear you speak like that." He took a long pull off his mug of ale.

"Dain should rule." Sneered the first dwarrow, the scarred one. "He's a war hero, just like the Oakenshield. And not tainted by the madness of his line. And to find out, the king's sister spread herself for an elf of all ungainly creatures." He made a disgusted sound.

Some of the other dwarrow, drinking companions but not friends, moved away. A few others stayed where they were.

Silently, Brinarg watched. Not taking part, but making note of who was ripe to be approached for such a delicate endeavor. He hid his sly smile behind his ale tankard. He had his message. The bounty on King Thorin's head was gone, wasted. There was a new target now, and the possible rewards were that much higher.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin looked up as the unlikely trio entered the informal dining hall. The elf looked thoughtful while Kili appeared pale. Balin was fuming. The king grinned while he watched.

Balin fairly marched over to his king as he sat with Dwalin and Fili. "Had to start over from the beginning." He complained, reaching for his own brother's ale.

Dwalin handed him the tankard without qualm, his lips twitching. "Why?" He asked in his usual gruff voice.

"Because Thorin, mighty king that he is, mucked it all up." Balin sneered as he downed his ale.

Fili laughed, right before Thorin cuffed him next to his ear. "Right. Well. Fun's over." The King Under the Mountain ignored his advisor's comment. "Work. Fili. I expect you at the armory bright and sharp. We have to sort out what we have, what we need and what we can send to Mirkwood or Dale. Repairs, everything. Names of the dwarves on work detail for you has already been posted."

Fili nodded solemnly, his chest expanding a bit to be so trusted.

"Kili!" Thorin called his younger nephew over to him. "After your ...after Lord Elrond and the others take their leave tomorrow I want you to test what warriors we have for archery skills. We are going to need to mount the walls with defense. I don't trust that any of the bows from before are still viable, check them. You are our best bowyer. Let me know what you need."

The dark-haired princed smiled grimly, pleased but still feeling off.

As if sensing his nephew's mood. Thorin wrapped his large hand around the back of Kili's neck, pulling him in close. The uncle and king leaned in and put his forehead against the younger dwarrow's. With his free hand, he reached for Fili.

Elladan's breathing held for a moment, watching as without words, the three dwarves stood there. The King resting his forehead against one, and then the other. The two younger dwarrow relaxing, tension melting away. He didn't know if this was culturally significant, or merely a family thing. Either way, his heart was quite literally aching.

Anger and pain reared their ugly damned heads as Elrohir walked up behind him. His twin brother put his hand on his shoulder in a silent sign of support. Elladan forced himself to relax, trying to let the jealousy go. Wishing with all he had that he'd not missed the last seventy-eight years of his child's life.

o.o.o.o.o

*One Week Later*

o.o.o.o.o

"It's only been a week." Elrohir offered with a sigh, watching his twin toss aside an arrow he'd been trying to fletch.

"Over a week." Corrected his twin brother.

Elrohir snorted softly. "A Northman's week then. We've been too long in training the Rangers. I start to count time as they do."

Elladan nodded to show he was listening.

"Now Caduras and Lutheron go to take our place in the North. Letting us remain here." Elrohir continued. "Where it has still been only a week. You can't expect great changes so soon."

Elladan stretched his fingers and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension there. Fletching was tedious work, but needed to be done properly. This mood he was in wasn't conducive and his task was suffering. "In that week he's said fourteen words to me. Each of them consisting of 'good morning' and that is it. He's said more to Lady Galadriel than to me."

"Truth." Elrohir allowed, a sad smile tilting his lips upward. "But they weren't particularly nice words." He reminded his brother, recalling how Kuilaith had seemed almost bitter when he'd demanded an answer on why Tauriel had been forced from Mirkwood. "I thought Glorfindel was going to burst a blood vessel trying not to laugh."

Lady Galadriel had only smiled at him. It had been Tauriel herself who'd set Kuilaith straight, that she'd been offered a choice and she'd taken it. No force had been involved. Her choice.

"Where is Glorfindel?" Elladan asked. "I could stand to blow off some energy with a small skirmish."

Elrohir shrugged one elegantly muscled shoulder, so different from the more bulky dwarves living in Erebor. "Last I saw he was talking with Dwalin about the proper balancing of axes."

"Glorfindel seems to be having no problems getting along with the dwarves." Elladan's voice held a note of betrayal despite his best efforts.

His twin laughed at that and nodded. "Well, neither of us slew a balrog nor did we rob our own tomb for a sword." Elrohir glanced up, movement catching his eye. "The young scribe, Ori I believe, actually was brave enough to ask him if his body was still in the tomb when he opened it."

Elladan looked up at his brother's face, attention caught. "Did Glorfindel give an answer?" This had been a burning question among the elves for centuries.

"No." Elrohir answered quietly, looking down at his brother. "The mighty hero still refuses to speak of it. Be ready, your son approaches."

It took Elladan a second to switch from the topic of Glorfindel's past. He did manage not to look startled as Kili stopped in front of him. Barely.

Dressed in typical dwarvish manner, it was difficult to see his more elvish features. A more slender frame, a nose not quite long enough, and features a bit too delicate looking for dwarvish beauty. Yet the lad looked so right to his father's eyes, even in the heavy leathers sporting dwarvish designs and runes.

"Good morning." Kili greeted him, caution in his voice. As usual.

Elrohir fought off a smile even as Elladan returned the greeting. But for once, the young prince didn't move off immediately. The silence between them was an awkward one.

The outcome of the quiet stand-off was a foregone conclusion. No one could really outwait an elf, least of all a young dwarf with something on his mind. Kili cleared his throat, then pointed at the arrows his father had been fletching that morning. "Those fletchings. They're not straight."

Elladan nodded, hearing no disparagement but rather the question behind the words. "Helical set." He reached for one of the arrows, holding it up to his son to get a better look. "It grasps the shaft at an angle to introduce torque."

Kili grunted, his dark eyes narrowing in contemplation. "Why?"

Elladan could hear real curiousity in the youngster's voice, but also a hint of something else. Or maybe the father in him just wanted there to be something else in his son coming to him. Instead of dwelling on it he answered the question. "Increased range and control." Elladan said quietly, then made what was perhaps the most important offer in his long life. "Want to try shooting some?"

The question was mild, but both twin elf lords held their breath as they waited for a response.

Kili looked off into the distance, but saw nothing as his mind worked over the baited question. No one pretended it wasn't an offer to spend time together, father and son.

Instinctively Elladan knew not to push, but waited. Finally, after several long moments, Kili gave a jerky kind of nod.

Elrohir smiled rather weakly with relief. "You could have gone to Tauriel."

Elladan stiffened, shooting his brother an incredulous look. But Kili relaxed a little and pulled a face. "Don't want to look bad in front of her." He said candidly.

Sensing an unsure and fragile peace offering, Elladan nodded carefully. "I've seen you shooting this week. You won't look bad."

Kili tensed up a bit, clearly still uncomfortable. "For a dwarf."

Elladan's eyebrows rose. "You've not missed a target yet." And yes, he'd been watching. Of course he'd been watching.

The dark-haired young male sighed, clearly chewing over something important to him. He shot a glance first at his father, and then his elvish uncle. "Dwarves stand still and shoot. Plant our feet and bang one out after another."

Elladan didn't pretend not to understand. "Elves move constantly. It makes us a harder target to catch."

"Effective." Kili nodded, still not meeting his father's eyes. "From what I've seen." He sounded almost resentful, even to his own ears. The young prince coughed and tried again. "I basically trained myself, hunting mostly. Guard work on trading caravans."

"Before you came to Rivendell," Elrohir asked quietly, "had you seen any elves before?" He deliberately used the common language title, rather than the elvish name.

Kili shook his head, knowing better than to explain how his mother had never seemed keen on that particular idea. And now he knew why.

"We can train you in our ways, but it will not be comfortable to you." Elladan offered cautiously, feeling his way through the emotional turmoil he could sense below the surface.

"Because I'm too dwarvish to move like you?" Kili's stubborn jaw jutted outward and his dark-eyes narrowed pugnatiously.

Elladan shook his head very slowly. "Because you'd have to spend a lot of time with us. Elves. And I'm not sure I want to train you."

Kili's mouth went dry, his eyes widening with hurt.

"Because to train you, I might lose any chance of forging a better relationship with you." Elladan continued. "I want us to be ...more. Father and son. I want to be there for you. To train you properly in the way you've asked, I couldn't be gentle or even kind. You may not like me now, but if we do this you might never do so."

Shockingly, Kili laughed, his tension completely dispersing. He shook his head. "I was trained by Thorin and Mister Dwalin. Gentle and kind aren't dwarvish words."

Elladan looked at his twin brother, weighing his options. Finally he gave a nod and pointed at his son. "Lose the boots."

Kili looked down at his best footwear, good heavy dwarvish style boots. "Huh?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin grunted in satisfaction as Balin finished his report on the caravan arriving from Lord Bard of Dale. "Food runs heavily to fish, but preserved well for the coming winter."

Balin made a few notations on his lists. "Flour. Salt. Yeast. All good. Cheese isn't dwarvish, but it'll do for this winter. As you know, the fish is plentiful. But it will be a lean winter. Goodly supply of wood though, with promises of more to come."

"The signals came in, the Elven King has pack animals being escorted this way." Thorin couldn't hold back a bitter sneer, thinking about Thranduil. But food was food, and his people needed to be fed over the winter. "Hunting parties are under utilized, but we can't risk much with goblins still running wild out there. And Mordor looking our way."

Balin looked up at his king. "They have no need to look at us."

"We're vulnerable. Yes, we have Erebor back. But we are not the stronghold we will need to be with that Enemy out there." Thorin waved a hand swiftly, ending up pointing at his long-time friend and advisor. "The message Gandalf intercepted, the one with a bounty on my head? Was written in Black Speech."

The elder dwarf hissed at the thought. "You think?" He gestured silently toward the east.

Thorin shrugged and nodded.

"Your door is open."

Both dwarves turned and stared at the imposing figure of the Lady of Light, outlined by the glow of torches on either side of the door. The wide open door.

"It's rude to listen in." Thorin snapped, irate.

"Far ruder to steal kin." The Lady rejoined.

The King Under the Mountain stood more still than any statue, finally he growled. "Are we really going to have that conversation now? Dain and the others aren't even probably half-way to Ered Luin yet."

Lady Galadriel looked at him, almost in sorrow. "Not my original intent, I assure you."

Thorin had trouble meeting her eyes. She looked so young, and her eyes showed so great a depth that appeared as if beyond ages. "Your intent then?"

"To offer aid." The Lady of the Wood, one who was also thought of as a witch by the dwarves, smiled. "More of an accomplishment of aid rather than an offer. Food and other staples are on their way from Lothlorien."

"We didn't ask for that help." Snapped an infuriated Dwarven King, his temper rising close to the top.

The Lady calmly looked at him with her starry eyes and gave a small smile. "You would accept from Thranduil what you will not accept from me?"

Balin made a distressed noise in the back of his throat and Thorin made a hand gesture for patience. He himself tried to rein in his own mounting anger. "I buy the Elven King's assistance. I am afraid of what price you might ask for yours."

"Ah." Galadriel made no move, nor did her expression change. But the pressure of her gaze lessened somehow. "No. I do not seek the release of my kin, my daughter's son's son. You do not hold him by force, and the bonds of love that you have with him would not be for sale at any price."

Thorin stilled, sensing a trap within her words. But try as he might, he wasn't sure what she was trying to pull. "He is easy to love."

Now the Lady of Lorien did move as she bowed her head in acquiescence, her hand moving as gracefully as a feather falling to the ground. "Indeed, that is so."

The King Under the Mountain couldn't help but admire her beauty, for he was a Dwarf and like his kind he appreciated finer things. Ruthlessly he steeled his heart to her. "Why send us aid? We who you think ..."

"Stole our blood?" Galadriel finished for him, choosing words deliberately intended to offend. "Your sister has much to answer for."

"Without her, there would be no Kili." Thorin threw that out there, not thinking through his words.

Startled, Galadriel's eyes widened slightly and she appeared to be pondering what he'd said most carefully. "I will ...consider that." She said quietly. "But in the meantime, while Kuilaith dwells in Erebor, so will Elves. Not always the same ones, but elves no matter."

"Stuck with you, are we?" Thorin's voice dripped with disdain.

"Me? Not always. I must return to my woods in these dark times. But Elladan and Elrohir definitely. Nuluin has stayed on as has Tauriel, though they will most likely travel with me back to Lothlorien when the time is ripe." Galadriel answered far more politely than the king's question warranted. "More will come."

"Glorfindel?" Balin asked almost breathlessly. He had so many questions about that particular elf. Even Dwalin grumbled about that elf less than he did the others.

Galadriel smiled brighter this time. "With the hero, who can say but he himself? That one seems to like Erebor and her inhabitants."

"You take Tauriel with you in the hopes that Kili will follow like a love-struck puppy?" The dark-haired king asked coldly.

The Lady blinked slowly, then shook her head very slightly. "They are too young. Tauriel wishes to travel, to see more of this world than the Mirkwood. I am only too happy to assist one as bright as she, and repay a kindness done to my family even unknowning as she was at the time." She paused and smiled. "It does Kuilaith good to know that there is one Elf he likes at least. But she is not a carrot to be dangled before a cart horse."

Thorin nearly choked as he listened. "So you send foods and supplies, because you ...want to ...what?" He asked leadingly.

"We are not your guests." The Lady's voice was no less musical, but it was if the tone had hardened to a more militaristic air.

"No." Thorin agreed. "Not guests."

Galadriel tilted her head slightly. "But hopefully not enemies. With blood-kin in common."

The King caught his breath, his eyes bulging somewhat. No matter what this witch of an elf said, they were not family.

The Lady continued, ignoring the king's reactions. "It would be wrong for us to drain your resources as you try to build up this stronghold. And an enemy of Mordor is always able to count on Lothlorien for succor."

"We have kin in common, and shared enemies. Is that enough to make us allies?" Thorin couldn't keep the incredulity from his tone.

"This is no small enemy." Galadriel commented dryly.

Thorin whistled under his breath, but nodded albeit with great reluctance. Mordor. Sauron. "Not a small enemy at all." He agreed sullenly.

The Lady then smiled brighter than before. "And no small blood relation. Kuilaith is ..." She seemed to struggle to find the right words.

Thorin frowned at this beautiful and ancient being. "He is indeed. But a shared bridge through my nephew does not make us related to one another."

"No." Galadriel agreed far too readily, Thorin was almost insulted.

"You agreed to the marriage between Elladan and Dis." The king threw the words at her almost rudely, making Balin's eyes widen in wary concern.

The Lady of Lorien frowned slightly. "Actually, I did not. That was accomplished with Saruman the White, King Thror and Lord Elrond. I was not for the match, though I was also not against." Galadriel seemed uneasy for the first time. "I was not approached. My knowledge of their arrangement came after."

"So, no celebrating a wedding for you." Thorin sighed. "Either of us. King Thror sought no opinion from me and did not even tell me after."

"Celebration." Galadriel seemed to be testing the word on her tongue. "A celebration should be held. For stances made, ground gained, and blood shared." The Lady seemed surprised by her own words. Then her eyes shone with satisfaction. "Yes. A celebration of some sort."

"We're holding a Durin's Day dinner next week. Late. But we were busy facing down a dragon on the actual start of the new year." The older, white-bearded dwarf smiled. "Nothing grand, but an observance and something of a celebration."

Thorin turned and stared at his advisor, appalled. Had Balin just invited the damned elves to a dwarven holiday? "I'm sure the Lady and her kin don't celebrate Durin's Day."

"I did not have more than a passing knowledge of Durin the Deathless, our paths were not the same ones. However, I did meet several of his later lives. The Second Durin was polite enough, but the Third crafted the most marvelous poetry."

Balin sputtered, almost visibly reeling. "The Fourth was a great warrior." He said, his voice weak.

Galadriel gave a small smile to the elderly advisor. "Actually, all the Durins were great warriors in their own ways. Axes being the preferred weapon, except for the Fifth. He did so enjoy the use of a war hammer."

Thorin nearly fainted at the thought, his heart speeding up with shock. He stared at the She-Elf, unable to comprehend this female and how she might actually be Kili's great-grandmother of all things.

"Dwarves and I have a long history, including my husband and I being escorted safely through Khazad-dum on our way to Lothlorien." Galadriel pursed her lips in a becoming smile. "I must not forget that in my anger over Kuilaith. Perhaps a celebration of Durin's Day would be the correct thing after all. I accept. It would be both an honor and a pleasure."

"Splendid!" Balin grinned widely. "It's a feast, some singing and dancing. Presents. But nothing big, simple gifts to wish loved ones a blessed new year."

Thorin's stare turned into a baleful glare of consternation. His advisor ignored him.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili winced, staring balefully up at the sky. Again. Panting, he rubbed his still healing ribs as he rose up, resting back on his elbows.

Elrohir smiled calmly and pointed at the single piece of firewood on the ground. Again.

Growling, and wishing they weren't in an open courtyard with everyone looking on. Kili grabbed the piece of wood, about as round as his hand was wide, and set it on it's end. Quickly he stepped up onto it. He winced. "Damned splinters."

"You need better boots." His elvish uncle said evenly.

"Have boots. Good boots." Kili grumbled. "And I still don't know why they're not on my feet!"

Elladan spoke up, watching from one side. "Not better boots. Just different." He amended his brother's statement. "Lighter. Dwarven boots are great for mines most likely. But for the kind of agility you're seeking, they are a deterrent."

There was only room for one foot on the piece of wood that was his perch. Kili struggled to keep his balance, and while he was staying up for the most part, he was sure he looked a right idiot. Two arms and one leg flailing in the air in order to stay aloft. The toes on his balancing leg curled under, as if seeking purchase, but finding none.

"So, this is how you train elflings?" Kili nearly lost his balance as he realized that Fili had joined the group of dwarven onlookers. His chest tightened, feeling the fool.

"No." Elladan answered, his gray eyes missing nothing.

Kili's face turned grim at the perceived insult.

Elrohir's words dispelled that. "This is how we train Rangers."

Fili's mouth drooped a bit, before he grunted and nodded. Kili straightened up and he fought to stay balanced.

"Rangers." The blond older brother said the word with quite a bit of respect. Even out here they'd heard of that secretive, yet well respected group.

"Kili is a bit old to train as an elfling. And he's not one. His build is too bulky." His father said.

"Bulky? Bet it's the first time he's ever heard that said!" Bofur gave his distinctive laugh, only falling quiet as Fili turned to glare at the toy maker. "Right, sorry lads. Continue."

Fili turned back to his brother, standing on a piece of wood better suited for building a fire than anything else. Clad only in his trousers and loose shirt, his leathers and boots off to the side. Sweat made the dark cloth of his shirt cling to his chest and back. "Came out to let you know. Durin's Day celebration dinner in a week."

"I know." Kili bit his lip as his unsteady perch leaned to the left and he adjusted his balance.

Elrohir suddenly tossed a rock at him and Kili caught it, moving without thought. The lad grinned in triumph, right up until the second and third rock came his way. He caught one, the other pelted him in the chest. "Damn it!"

"Dodge." Elladan told his son without inflection in his voice.

"What?" Kili didn't have time to wait for an answer as two more rocks came at him. He dodged them both, but then lost his balance, leaving him staring up at the sky. Again. The word that next left his lips had his father scowling and his uncle and brother laughing. "I hate you all."

Fili came over and offered his brother a hand up. Kili took the help with gratitude. "Cold ground for bare feet."

"I can manage." Kili grumbled. "Didn't bring bedroom slippers with me on the quest."

The blond crown prince of Erebor laughed at his younger brother and then looked around at the two elf lords. His smile dimmed a bit, but he didn't lose it entirely. "Invitation to Durin's Day dinner is extended to our elvish ...guests." He didn't call them family.

Elladan straightened up, his attention snagged. "Is that like a naming day celebration?"

"No. Rather it's a celebration to start a new year." Fili corrected. "Dinner, drinking, dancing and singing. Nothing much, the larder isn't exactly overflowing."

"Presents." Kili grinned, his good mood never staying down for long. "Small presents, nothing like a birthday or Yule."

Elrohir nodded with a grin of rememberance. "So, nothing like a new leather knapsack big enough to hide a dwarfling in, then?"

Elladan chuckled, shaking his head as he too remembered that story.

Kili, reaching for the piece of firewood again, stalled. "Huh?"

Fili froze on the spot. His blue eyes widened. That story sounded familiar, something his mam used to tell him.

Elrohir pointed at the blond. "What was it, fell asleep in your father's new pack and made your parents crazy looking for you for two hours?"

Kili's head whipped around, his dark eyes laughing gleefully at his older sibling. "What? Really? You did?"

"So I've been told." His blue eyes narrowed on the twin elf lords. "But how did you ...?"

Elrohir gave an easy shrug. "There is no one more proud of their heritage and their father than say ...a four year old dwarfling."

Bofur and Kili both laughed as they sensed a good story.

Elladan shook his head. "Let's see. Nehili was strong enough to carry two cows at one time, one for each shoulder."

"Beard long enough to get caught in his belt buckle, with enough beads to make a raven blush with envy." Elrohir added as he mimed the beard in question.

Elladan's look turned fond, making Fili distinctly uncomfortable. "I couldn't read a story like Nehili. Couldn't cook like him."

"I was particularly fond of how you got your smell wrong, brother." Elrohir smirked, pointing at his twin. "Fili followed you around for over a week complaining that you had to be bathing wrong."

Bofur laughed out loud, needing to catch his balance on Kili's shoulder.

Fili stared, unsure and feeling more off-balance than if he'd been the one standing on firewood. "You make me sound like a brat."

Elladan shook his head. "You were proud of your father, and missing him. That was understood. And it was sweet of you to offer to glue a beard on my face so I wouldn't be an embarrassment to you during the Nute'adad ceremony."

Kili was still laughing, his face alight with joy. Bofur though, he sobered a bit, his eyes searching out the crown prince. Fili didn't appear shocked to find out the elf was his 'second-father'. The title of Nute'adad wasn't just an honorary thing. The toy maker wondered if Thorin knew about this.

"When you turned seventy, reaching your majority, I wouldn't wonder that you'd take all night reciting your history." Elrohir seemed amused. "What with all the stories you had on your father plus all the Line of Durin tales?"

Fili grunted, not really answering. Kili looked at his brother and perhaps realized that the blond wasn't as amused by all this as he was. "Fili?"

Not bothering to answer, and unclear on how he would answer if questioned. Fili bent over and scooped up a couple of rocks. "Let's see if you learned anything today. Dodge these!"

Kili whooped and twisted, the first two rocks missing him as he moved swiftly. His dark eyes fairly danced with glee as he caught the third rock in his hand and whipped it right back at his elder brother.

Fili caught the rock himself and tossed it to Bofur, who knew a cue when he got one.

"Head's up laddie!" The toy maker chucked the rock back at Kili who managed to dodge it, but got hit in the knee by one thrown by Fili at the same time.

"Foul!" Kili cried out, gritting his teeth as he spun to dodge two more rocks coming his way. Behind him, Elladan caught one down near his ankle before it hit the ground. In turn he tossed it at Kili's back, scoring a hit. "More fouls!"

Elrohir held up his hands, smiling. "Orcs, goblins and other beasties all smell foul. And fight even fouler. I'd say you're well and truly wounded now."

From the side a rock about three times the size, and with more velocity than any other yet thrown, came hurtling right at his head. The back of his head.

"Down!" Barked Fili, spotting the dangerous projectile.

Without question, without hesitation, Kili dropped flat on his belly. But the missile of a rock never reached him. Elrohir stepped forward, catching the thrown projectile with his bare hand.

Hard eyes all turned toward a disgruntled looking shorter dwarf with close set beady eyes and a long nose. A mealy brown and tan beard reached to his chin with several braids. Iron Hills dwarf. "What? Thought that was the game." He spoke out, as if daring anyone to disagree with him. Arms crossed and in a defensive stance.

"Gagnar." Sighed one of the other watching dwarves, obviously embarrassed by his companion's actions.

Brinarg wandered away, leaving the dwarves and their pet elves talking and arguing with each other. He didn't want to get involved. But he'd made a mental note, of course. Who was upset with old Gagnar for attacking the young elfish abomination, and who looked rather pleased. There were a few names there to check out. Yes indeed.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Later that night, Fili was having trouble falling asleep. Staring up at the intricate carvings and inlay above his bed, he wondered which former prince or princess of Erebor had used this room? He'd have to ask Balin.

It was beyond odd to have a bedroom bigger than half their entire cabin back in Ered Luin.

A dragon had stolen his heritage from him and his family. Forced them to live near the line of poverty. Fili snorted, sometimes they'd been beyond that line of poverty. He could remember nights of bellies only half full, and having to do without on many a day. Yet it had been a good life. Or so he'd thought.

But the biggest treasures stolen from him and his brother, it wasn't Smaug taking the blame.

Nehili. It had been a very long time since Fili had thought about his father. A good dwarf of humble bloodlines, but fiercely loved by his wife and son. When had he stopped telling stories about his da? Well, that was easy enough. When it had become apparent to him that poor Kili had no father, and no stories to tell.

Mam had not only kept Kili from his father, she had cut him off from any sense of belonging. Fili had stepped in and made both of Dis' sons heirs of Durin. Thorin's. Upon reaching their respective majorities, both brothers had sung songs and praise ...of Thorin, Thrain, and Thror. Their uncle the only father they had. Not one tale had been told by the young blond about his true father, not that night or any other.

But Fili knew the tales about Nehili. His da. And he'd ignored them. For love of Kili. Something he would never, ever regret. For his whole life though, Fili had hated the thought of Kili's da. Alive somewhere, ignoring his son.

Only that wasn't the truth.

The crown prince of Erebor stared holes into his ceiling. The deep well of his anger boring into the bedrock of his heart.

Mam had stolen more than one father, and from more than one son.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Sigan escorted the travel weary group into his home, gleefully ignoring the mud stained iron boots of the already legendary leader of the Iron Hills. "Calbrinia! Wine for the lords!"

"We won't be staying." Dain Ironfoot glowered. "On our way to Ered Luin."

Sigan the Dwarf eyed the hero of Azanulbizar, bowing deeply. Then turning to the elf by his side, his welcoming bow much shallower this time. Dwarf and Elf travelling together with a large escort of dwarrow warriors. How odd were these times in which they lived?

Hinnin ignored Sigan and his prissy looking braids. "I thought he said that he had message birds?" He asked in the common tongue.

"I have messages already written out. Just no birds available in Erebor, and none in Dale trained to go to Ered Luin." Dain eyed their host. "We only stop here to water and rest the mounts, gather further supplies. Do you have the birds you promised?"

"Of course!" Sigan nodded, eager to please. "I've sent for young Brerin, he tends the winged ones."

"You are going to warn her?" Hinnin asked quietly.

Dain nodded, not bothering to lie.

On the long trek out, the two had become rather unlikely friends. Mostly due to a mutual dislike of a certain green leafy vegetable and the appreciation of a well aged stout. They'd had long conversations on the use of oak wood with fermentation processes.

It helped that neither discussed Elven or Dwarvish history, Thranduil's actions, or the marriage of an elf lord to the daughter of a dwarven prince. It made for a better journey that way.

"Wine, da?" The dwarf-maid entered the room, looking less like a daughter and more like a warrior born. Beautiful and powerful all at the same time.

Sigan fairly preened as both males eyed his daughter, taking in her lithe form and muscled body. Long, rich chestnut hair was braided almost severely, exposing the elegant line of her cheeks and throat. No beard, but soft curly sideburns enhanced the sleek lines of her face.

Dain smiled grimly. "News is thus. Erebor is Dwarven once more. We ride to Ered Luin to reach there before winter truly sets in. In the spring there will be caravans of those returning to their former homes. Before that, however, we will be pushing back to Erebor hopefully before the full snows fall."

"Travel in winter is never easy in the mountains." Calbrinia spoke quite seriously. "If you wait too long, the passes will be closed."

Sigan shushed his daughter with a fussy wave of his hand. Dain fought back a frown. There was entirely too much lace decorating this dwarf. Interesting that his daughter wore nothing but sparring leathers. Well used ones. He eyed her carefully. She appeared young, most likely under a century, but an adult at least.

"When we come back through we will make room for any wishing to travel to Erebor before the general population starts out in the spring." Dain offered, thinking that this fine and lovely female might make a crown prince turn his head.

Hinnin turned and gave the Iron Hills dwarf a lingering look of question.

"Oh, that Thorin. He sent out all sorts of calls for arms. I sent what help I could." Sigan murmured, his eyes not quite meeting Dain's.

The warrior bit back a sigh. Knowing this type. They were all supportive, AFTER the battle had been won.

"King Thorin's advisor would not accept me for the quest." Calbrinia spoke almost harshly. "As I am unmarried."

Sigan looked shocked, staring at his daughter as if she'd grown a second head. "You didn't tell me you'd offered to actually go with him?"

Dain grinned beneath his beard. Yes. This one might be worth introducing to Fili and perhaps even Kili, even if the elves might think him too young. The royal line needed fleshing out with good and fine dwarflings. "We hope to be in Ered Luin before the end of the month. We will waste no time in returning."

Calbrinia nodded. "There are others here who will wait for spring and better travel conditions. But there might be a few ..."

"As long as they are capable of swift travel and won't complain of travel rations. They will be welcome." Dain bowed, his authority inherent to him and not a product of lace and velvets.

Sigan bobbed his head almost nervously, wanting to pull his daughter away and chide her for even thinking about travelling in the winter. The very idea was ludicrous.

Young Brerin did indeed turn out to be a youthful dwarf, barely fifty if he was a day. But the lad knew his birds, and the messages were off within less than a quarter hour.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit longer for this chapter. Transitions. Ah well. Please let me know if you have any comments or questions, love hearing from you all. Sorry this one took a bit longer to get out there. Thanks for reading!


	11. In which hurts come to light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earning the tags for hurt/comfort in this one ...

"While you're in there, wash out your clothes. It's past time." Fili stood on the banks of the mouth of the Celduin river, laughing at his younger brother.

Kili made a face at the blond dwarf. "Why are my feet always bare for these training days?" He snarled, standing in the cold mountain water, this time fighting currents to stay balanced. His father and uncle would launch pine cones at him from odd directions, which he would have to strike down with what looked like the thinnest of wooden staves.

"Take your feet off that rock and you fail." Elrohir warned sternly as the young prince windmilled his arms after a strike that nearly unbalanced him.

Fili laughed and pointed at Kili's sour expression, up until Elladan grabbed the back of his tunic and hauled the elder brother to his feet. "Join him or leave him be."

"Well now, can't not laugh." The blond sang out cheerfully and reached down to haul off his bulky dwarven boots.

Kili made a rude noise, and then growled as a pine cone came whistling toward his left side. He turned and knocked it away, even managing to keep his balance. "Don't you have duties oh crown prince of Erebor?"

"Delegated." Whistled Fili. "I love the word delegated."

"Balin is going to weep about the day he taught you that word." Laughed Kili as he ducked, spun, and managed to put the tip of his heavy stave on the pine cone almost out of his reach. "That one counts!" He groused.

Once free of his heavy leathers and boots, Fili whipped off his soft woolen shirt as well. "It's new." He explained as Elrohir watched him and held out his hand for one of the wooden staves.

The elf lord easily tossed the stave to the dwarven prince, who grunted, but caught it easily. It was heavier than it looked. Fili bounced the stave in his hands, realizing the wood was encasing a weighted metal core. "Nice."

Elladan watched his second-son join his blood-son in the river current. His gray eyes missing no detail. "Ever should it have been thus." He murmured. "I was a fool to let her leave without following."

Elrohir heard, but did not respond. Saying 'I told you so' in Elvish was a serious insult. Instead he called out to the blond dwarf. "You might be here a while, we were planning an all day session."

Kili groaned, but gamely hit the two pine cones his father sent spinning his way. One on either side of him. The first he struck with ease, the second he had to spin and only barely managed to reach. Though he ended up on one foot, his toes curling into the rough rock on which he was standing fighting for his balance. A third pine cone sailed right by his head as he was unable to adjust. "DAMN IT!"

"Sure it is alright having you both out here all day?" Elrohir sent a cone spinning at Kili, even as he spoke to the elder dwarf brother.

Fili grinned and found a rock for himself, testing to make sure it wouldn't shift under his weight. He shivered in the cold water. "Nay. Actually, Dwalin seemed eager to be rid of me today."

Kili knocked away the cone rather easily, but it careened off to the side, hitting Fili on the back of the thigh. "Score!" He yelped happily.

Fili gritted his teeth, grinning. "Oh. It's on now."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The stones echoed and the halls of Erebor resounded, first with the rythmic strikes of hammers and other tools, even boots. The sound could have been work related, only it clearly wasn't. The sounds were all in pace with each other. A beat. Like drums. Like a heartbeat.

The rhythm was solemn, sober, mourning. The dwarves lined up through the halls, an honor guard for the procession.

The King Under the Mountain stood upon a dias in his armor, his hands clasped behind his back in a regal stance. Dwalin on one side, Balin on the other.

The first voice to utter a note was King Thorin himself. The song was deep, rumbling, and culled the darkest sadness from the heart itself. The words, ancient, harsh, and unknown to any but their blood. Unlike any song they'd sang while on their quest, this one was in Khuzdul.

Of all their guests, only Galadriel and Glorfindel were unaccounted for. And after much debate, it was decided that these two would hold their counsel. Balin had even argued that the Lady of the Wood had known several of the Durin's throughout the many years, and had even been escorted through Khazad-dum. Which she'd named properly, in Khuzdul.

Most of Dain's warriors were also sent out on errands, patrolling borders and hunting. The ones remaining were of an older generation, seasoned and battle hardened, as well as known to the Erebor dwarves. Some had even had kin that had started here.

The first body carried through on the stretcher was covered. Not a skeleton like many, but the mummified remains of a dwarf who had perished, trapped by a dragon. There was a pause as the litter carriers marched to the beat of the Mourning Song. A name was called. "Khivetin, son of Setin."

Thorin watched, dry eyed but deeply moved. He nodded, and the litter continued past the king. It would be the first body of far too many. And most would not have a name or identity to find. Very few could still be named.

Deep inside Erebor, Galadriel heard the song deep into her bones. Eternally youthful and beautiful, the Elf Queen closed her eyes in sadness. Suddenly she could feel the press of years that would never show upon her body. The reality of death was ever a poison to one who is immortal. She thought of the undying lands and wondered if she would ever see them again.

Glorfindel sat in the empty room and listened. He did not understand Khuzdul. But he did understand death and mourning. Only too well. His hand was not as steady as usual as he reached for his wine glass.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Arnica." Nuluin pointed out, pleased.

"Looks like a daisy." Gagnar scratched his chin absently, peering with one eye closed. He sounded irate and bored.

The elven healer sighed and shook his head. "In appearance, mayhap." He held up the many petalled yellow flower. "But it is not. This is arnica. It soothes burns and aids in the healing of wounds. Mostly in creams and ointments, it should not be used internally except by a healer."

"Why not?" A second dwarf demanded, this one younger and looking less angry than Gagnar.

"Could cause an irregular heartbeat." Tauriel said, though not looking in the direction of the group she was supposed to be guarding. Her keen eyes were on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. Alert.

Gagnar shot a dark glance at the tall she-elf. "Don't know why we're out here helping elves collect plants and all."

"Because these plants are not for us, but for stocking Erebor's healing halls." Nuluin sneered, his attention on the daisy-like flower as he bent a stem and sniffed. "Good, good."

Tauriel didn't react to the evil look of Gagnar, but that wasn't to say she was unaware of his disregard and anger. "There were a lot of assignments today taking many away from Erebor."

The younger dwarf nodded. "Our captain said that it was to remove the bodies remaining after the dragon took the mountain. For proper songs and disposal. It is too private a sight for those who didn't know or cherish those that are gone."

Nuluin paused, shocked. His unlined face appearing younger than his actual age. "They hadn't removed the bodies right away?"

Gagnar was the one to sneer this time. "They weren't fresh bodies, now were they? No. Time was taken to identify who they could. Places were dug right proper for them in preparation."

Tauriel thought about this and then finally nodded. "A matter of respect."

Several younger dwarves heard her and nodded, liking that she understood. Gagnar growled at them. Angered that there were elves anywhere near Erebor, or any dwarven residence. Worse yet, there was a mixed blood bastard in line for the throne. How angry was the Maker about that abomination?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

It was nearing the hours of twilight when the deed was finally finished and the last song sung.

Weary beyond telling, in body, mind and soul, the trio of dwarves headed to get something to drink. Thorin stopped in the doorway, staring.

Glorfindel sat redolent of elegant years long past. Every line of his body was relaxed and graceful. Only his eyes seemed shielded, and terribly sad. There were more than a few empty wine bottles on the table before him.

Dwalin snorted. "Those songs weren't for you to hear." It was almost an accusation.

Thorin walked over and picked up a half-empty bottle of wine. Glorfindel didn't move, not even to look up at the dwarf standing beside him. His voice was harsh, gruff. "Do you know our language?"

"No." The elf-warrior's word was soft, almost a sigh.

Balin eyed the elegant pose, and knew it to be a sham. He knew his history better than the other dwarves. "You've faced a dragon before yourself."

Glorfindel's head dropped slightly in acknowledgement. One finger tracing the rim of his wine glass absently.

Thorin's hand paused as he filled a fresh glass of wine for himself. He shot a glance at his white-haired advisor, and then then to the sitting elf.

Dwalin eyed the golden haired hero, his arms crossed. What he knew of the warrior flitted through his mind at a rapid pace. Finally he settled on a simple, and yet deep question. "Do you know every name fallen at Gondolin?"

Again, a short nod of the head, and eyes that seemed unfocused.

"So. You understand our hearts today." Thorin sighed and lifted his wine in a brief salute.

"A sorrow that steals the heart, salts the ground, and brings no warmth." Glorfindel absently translated. "An old saying, that only scratches the surface layer of what you faced today. The list of names will live with you all the days of your life."

Silence fell over the small group as they considered that. Balin's heart hurt to realize that for the elf, those names would live on for a very long time, and had already.

Suddenly, Dwalin looked up, his eyes sharpening. He stared at the tall elf who was currently more or less slouching. "I know why you tell no one if your grave held your body when you opened it."

Balin waved a hand at his brother to shut up. "Don't."

Glorfindel struggled, but managed to focus his eyes on the tattooed dwarf. "No. Do tell."

Dwalin appeared grim. "Because you did not open it to get your sword."

"It's a fine sword." The elf spoke silkily.

Thorin watched without expression, not wanting to interrupt.

"I'm sure it's a great weapon." Dwalin acknowledge. "But it wasn't your purpose."

Glorfindel weighed the moment in his mind, and then tilted his head slightly. Maginificent golden hair slid to one side as he carefully eyed the dwarves. "Be cautious. I am not sober. I might actually tell you, and my memories are dark beyond reckoning."

"Leave him to his thoughts." Balin sighed unhappily. "We all have sorrows."

Dwalin pointed at the elf warrior. "He has seen what we have seen. The fall of our families, our home, our people. Of all that walk Middle-Earth, this elf alone has lived through it."

"Ah, but I didn't live." Glorfindel waved a graceful hand even as he laughed a bit discordantly. "You survived. I did not. Where there is a grave there is usually a death don't you know." He didn't mention the balrog specifically, nor the fact that he'd slain it even as it carried the elf along with him into death.

Thorin cleared his throat and eyed those in the room for a long moment. "Durin the Deathless. Returned to us six times already, and one more to come. We are no strangers to those returning."

Badly startled, Glorfindel's eyes rounded a moment and then he gave a true laugh. "I knew that, but I ...no, I never truly considered that. Yes. The elves, they do not know what to make of my re-embodiment."

Balin shrugged. "Nor we, really. Durin is born anew each time, though with memories of his former lives."

The golden-haired warrior smiled gently. "The Valar gifted me with a return."

Dwalin sucked in a shocked breath, his eyes widening. "You awoke in your own grave. You didn't rob it, it is where you returned."

Glorfindel gave a true laugh and shook his head. "No. No, oh no. I arrived back in Middle-Earth on a ship. Nothing so dark and gray as my tomb." He paused, taking a sip of wine. "And I'm glad for it. The grave was lovely with beautiful flowers, but that would have been quite disturbing to have returned to the world at that place."

"Why did you seek out your grave?" Dwalin asked.

The former head of the House of the Golden Flower, looked up at the ceiling. He was quiet so long, that the dwarves thought he would not answer. But finally, the elf brought his head down and stared at Dwalin. "I speak not of your songs or your language, you speak not of my words."

"I so swear." Dwalin intoned solemnly. Thorin and Balin echoing the dwarven warrior.

"I had to see."

Thorin waited for more, but the explanation was over. Glorfindel shrugged, repeating himself. "I had to see."

"Not your grave." Balin guessed unhappily. "But what remained of Gondolin."

"No." Dwalin corrected with a heavy sigh. "What remained of the people."

"Nothing was left." Glorfindel wasn't looking at any of the dwarves anymore. "A few pieces of jewelry. Nothing precious of course, the city had been stripped down to wilderness. Belt buckles, buttons, nothing more. Some I knew, most I could only vaguely recall. It had been several thousand years between my death and my return."

"Opening your tomb?" Thorin asked quietly.

Glorfindel grinned, but it wasn't a happy look. Hints of madness entered the tall elf's gaze. "To reassure myself that it had all really happened. That I was who I thought I was." The madness passed and the elf touched the hilt of his sword. "And it is a very fine weapon."

No other question was asked. But Glorfindel answered one anyway. "If a body is buried it takes perhaps twenty years for a skeleton to return to dust. But if a tomb is well constructed, it could last for several thousand years."

Balin coughed and looked utterly saddened. "How well was your tomb constructed?"

"Luckily, poorly and in haste." Glorfindel looked over at the white-haired dwarf. "But full of small momentos. Keepsakes given to me in death by those who survived."

Dwalin didn't have to ask if the elf still had those keepsakes, he already knew the answer. "Do they help?"

"Most days." Glorfindel nodded, draining the rest of his wine glass. "Not today, not with songs echoing through the mountain. But on most days, they do help indeed."

Each keepsake he'd found, each small death gift had come from someone who had survived because he had not.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis read through the message several times, her hands shaking.

"Well?"

Three dwarven elders stared at her, their eyes sharp. Hope and heartbreak hung in the balance as they waited for her to answer. They'd brought the message to her unopened, a testimony to their honor in light of how anxious their entire community was to hear any news of Thorin's Company.

"Thorin is King Under the Mountain. Erebor is once again our home." Dis handed the message over to the elders, both elated and heartbroken. "No major injuries."

The elder scanned the written missive eagerly. "No details, it is a small message as it comes on the wings of birds. Dain. Dain Ironfoot sent this, and he is on his way here."

Relieved murmurs from the other elders. "He begs Lady Dis to be ready to travel immediately, in order to return to Erebor before the winter closes the mountain passes completely."

One elder nodded, the other frowned. "Spring would be a safer time to travel. Give us time to prepare and bring more of our people."

"No. We will still travel home in the Spring. This is for the Lady Dis to be ready to return quickly with Dain escorting her." The other elder answered, reading over the message once more.

"Why does he mention the help of the elves? In such a short note, why waste words on that? We need details! Is the dragon gone or slain? Who fought? Who is injured? How stands the kingdom?" The elder snarled and pulled on his long silver beard anxiously. "Dain! We need more information!"

"He is arriving soon." Another elder said soothingly. "We can question him then." He blinked happily over at Dis. "Your brother has succeeded! Your sons honor their ...oh, well, they honor Durin's Line!"

Father. Your sons honor their father. An old phrase, ancient really. And stumbled over in light of current circumstances. The dwarven elders had never been happy that Dis had not named Kili's father. Thorin had always stood between them and she, however.

Until now.

Elves. At Erebor. She knew why Dain had included that information in his letter. And why she had to be ready to travel at speed.

Kili. Had they recognized something within him? Was Elladan on his way to Erebor even now? Dis moaned, catching her balance on the table.

The elders rushed to her, concerned. Helping her sit and making her tea, which she couldn't drink, not now.

"Ah!" The most upright and caustic of the elders smiled. "We need to raise our mugs to King Thorin, son of Thrain. And to Fili, son of Nehili. And to Kili." He stopped there. He always stopped there rather than face Thorin or Dwalin's wrath.

The other two elders shook their heads at him. "Not the time nor the place, not when we need to be celebrating.

"Son of Elladan." Dis whispered, for the first time ever. Her shoulders straightening. "Excuse me. I have travel preparations to make."

She left the three elders staring after her in various stages of shock. The oldest of their group pointed after her, turning to look at his companions. "What name was that?"

"I did not recognize the name." The second elder put his finger in his ear, twirling it a bit to clear out the wax. "Alladen? Eleden? Isn't there a Eldun over in Sparrowden, about two leagues west? Miner?"

"He's barely ninety." Protested the first elder with a look of disgust. "Far too young."

The third elder, at 230, still had excellent hearing. He'd heard the name, but did not recognize it or the bloodline. What kind of name was Elladan for a dwarf anyway? "Why now?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I thought you would have gotten enough of me for the day." Elladan didn't look behind him to know who was there.

Kili made a face, stepping up beside his father on the empty battlement. They were high up on the walls looking over the valley below. Guards were posted on the lower battlements, as these were not repaired as yet.

"No railings."

"Worried for my safety?" Elladan was seated on the bare stone, looking up at the stars. It was a very clear night. Gorgeous really.

Feeling unsure, Kili looked at the line of his father's back. He'd searched for Elladan after dinner, but couldn't find him. It had been the Lady of Light, who'd pointed him out here.

Kili moved in, uncertain of his welcome. It was easier to deal with this particular elf during the day with others around him. Not one on one. He sat down gingerly next to the elf who'd sired him, biting back a groan.

Elladan's teeth flashed with a quick smile. "It's okay to be sore."

"I'm fine." Denied Kili, not wanting to appear weak, not before his father. Father. He sighed.

Elladan let him be, thankfully. Allowing the silence of the night and the ambient sounds of a kingdom below them fill the space. It was a bit nice actually. Thorin would have pressed him to come to the point by now.

Only Thorin didn't know what Kili needed answered. "I was looking for you." He broke the quiet.

"You have a question. One that you want to ask away from your brother, your uncle, or even my brother."

Kili grimaced. As a guess it was dead on target. "Do you ever miss?" He grumbled.

"Yes." The word was dripping with bitter regret.

Kili stilled, ruing his choice of words. "Sorry." He paused, looking out over the night. "Uhm. So. If Galadriel is my father's mother's mother? Where is my father's mother? Did she stay in Rivendell?" It wasn't what he'd sought out his father to ask, but he wasn't ready to get to the point yet.

Elladan shook his head gently. "Captured by orcs many years before you were born."

Stiffening, Kili's dark eyes widened in instant distress. "Damn it. I'm sorry. I didn't know she was dead."

The tall elf turned and looked at him, his gray eyes cast into shadows by the battlements. "She's not dead." Elladan's voice was saddened but thoughtful. "My brother and I rescued her, but the pain of what she'd been through was too much to bear. She sailed to the Undying Lands."

"That's code for dead. I meant, I thought. Isn't that just another way of saying dead?" Kili asked with halting words, on very unsure ground.

Elladan's lips twitched. "No. She lives. The Undying Lands is the realm of the Ainur and the Elves. The Valar and the Maiar."

"Right. Not dead." Kili fell silent again, his mind racing. Finally he gave a rough sigh. "No. I still don't undertand."

"She lives. Perhaps you should start there. Celebrian. Very sweet, kind and beautiful. She will love you."

"I can meet her?" The dark-haired prince asked, uneasy with that idea. Would she be like a real person or a ghost?

Elladan hesitated. "I don't know." Now he too sounded unsure. "That is a deep question with an unknown answer."

"Because I'm mortal." Kili guessed.

Reluctantly, Elladan nodded. "Yes." He confirmed.

The youngster looked up at the stars. "Someone mentioned a choice. Choosing to be counted as a dwarf or an elf?"

"I wish I didn't have to answer." The elf lord bit his bottom lip.

"I don't get a choice, do I?" Kili nodded. "Talked this over with Balin and Oin a lot. We figure I'm a lot closer to dwarf, being half. And you're not full elf."

Elladan closed his eyes, looking pained. Kili stilled, not having wanted to offer insult. "We're not wrong, are we?"

The elf who'd sired him shook his head slightly. "No. You're not wrong. And quite mortal."

"It's no bad thing to be a dwarf." Kili said with forced cheer. "I grew up thinking I was one, and it turns out I really am."

"I just found you. I'm not prepared to lose you." Elladan's voice cracked with grief, alarming his son.

Kili turned to the tall elf, his dark-eyes wide. "Hey! I'm young yet, as EVERYONE keeps reminding me." Plenty of time. Except, his father was old, for a dwarf anyway. And would live a long time after Kili was gone.

His mother, his love, his son. Elladan had clearly suffered so much loss. Kili's heart ached for the tall elf sitting beside him. Even if he really wasn't sure how to react to suddenly having a father, he didn't want him to suffer. Tentatively he put his hand on his father's shoulder.

It seemed to be a signal, because Elladan's arm wrapped around his son's shoulders and pulled him in tight against his body.

"Erm." Kili blinked. This was more touching than he'd been prepared for. Yet dwarves were a touchy race. They hugged, they held, they liked closeness. Only this wasn't a dwarf. Kili felt awkward and pulled back slightly. His father still had his arm around him, but there was space between them now.

"I'm sorry for the road ahead of you, it won't be easy."

Kili blinked, his dark eyes studying his father. He'd been trying to comfort Elladan, but it seemed the elf thought he was the one in need. "Long road?" Suddenly his breath caught. "Wait. You said mortal, you said we guessed rightly. I'm a dwarf. Right? Mortal, you can't take that back!"

Elladan pulled his son back into his body, wrapping both arms around him now. "Mortal yes, but you're a bit more than a dwarf."

Kili's hand fisted in his father's robes. "How much more?" He asked suspiciously. "You're talking about ...living longer, yes?"

"Yes."

Fear welled up in the youngster's heart. Inwardly he pictured all the members of his family and all of his friends. Fili most especially. "How much longer?" Now he wasn't trying to pull away. Now he was suddenly chilled and grateful for the touch.

"They're not completely sure." Elladan's voice sounded apologetic. "But no less than a thousand years, perhaps as many as two or three more centuries after that."

"I feel dizzy." Kili muttered, his stomach turning over queasily. "You promised mortal."

"That is mortal." Elladan answered, tightening his arms around his now shaking son.

"No! No it's not. Maybe to you, but not to me!" Kili pushed back suddenly, wanting to be let go. He pulled free and stood, walking over to the edge of the battlements. The ones with no rails.

Elladan watched him carefully.

Kili turned his back on the night vista, staring wide-eyed at his sire. "Fili will only live around 250 years."

The elf lord nodded, sympathy in his gaze.

"I'm going to lose him." Kili sounded shattered even to his own ears.

"I'm going to lose you." Elladan's pain echoed Kili's own.

Kili turned and stared out at the open air, smelling the wind. "No rain for at least a week." He said inanely. "What about if I have children?"

"Depends on whom you wed."

Turning back toward Elladan, Kili stared at him. "If I marry a dwarrowdam?"

"Your children will be clearly mortal, although living a very long time for a dwarf. Not as long as you will though." Elladan gave him a questioning look. "Is there a dwarrowdam in the picture?"

Kili snorted in derision. "Dwarrowdams think me ugly."

Elladan stared at him and shook his head. "Maybe you aren't the epitome of beauty for a dwarf, but you are more than a fine example of a dwarrow. Any dwarrow-maid would be lucky."

The dark-haired prince gave a half-tilted smile. "I actually came out here to ask you about gift ideas for Tauriel."

"Definitely not a dwarrow-maiden." Elladan said dryly.

"To an elf, how do I look?" Kili asked cautiously.

His father studied him and sighed. "Not beautiful, but not bad either. Shorter. Scruffy in regards to the beard. Broad shoulders aren't a deterrent though."

"So ugly in both races." Kili rolled his eyes. "I'm blaming you for this." He actually managed a small smile, even if he wasn't really feeling it.

Surprised at the humor, Elladan's eyebrows rose. "If it helps, among human women you'd never be left alone."

Stunned, Kili stared. "What?"

Elladan's lips twitched and he reached out, snagging Kili by the shoulder and pulling him away from the edge of the battlement. He looked gravely down into his son's face. "Go anywhere near human females, and you will find no rest, but plenty of beds to sleep in."

Huh? Kili mulled that over, and then blushed beet red. "You didn't just say that!"

"Why? Because elves don't make off-color jokes?"

Mouth open, Kili nodded, stunned. "Exactly!"

"To the human's you're very attractive." Elladan sighed heavily. "In fact, I forbid you to go anywhere near humans."

"Body of stone, remember?" Kili sputtered.

Elladan pressed his chin down on Kili's dark hair, bending slightly to reach. "They'll see trying to 'wake you up' as a challenge."

Kili closed his eyes, having a lot to come to terms with.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili was having the strangest dream, that he was being watched through the walls of his room back in Ered Luin. With a start, he woke. Blinking blearily as he stared at the dwarf sitting in a chair, watching him.

"Kili?" Why was his brother in his room, fully dressed and looking so tense?

"Go back to sleep."

"What is it, little brother?"

Kili made a face. Fili watched him. He patted the bed next to him and his younger brother crawled onto the sheets and sprawled down beside him, still wearing his boots. "Bad dream?" Fili asked.

"Bad answers." Kili said vaguely.

"Your father didn't tell you what to give to Tauriel for Durin's Day?"

Startled, Kili laughed. "We sort of skipped over that part." He threw his arm over his eyes. "Did you know that I'm considered pretty handsome to human females?"

"Yes."

Kili's arm moved and he stared at his sibling. "Huh?"

Fili made a noise in the back of his throat. "Lake Town. You were the center of attention. Petting, cooing, the whole works."

Kili shook his head. "Because I was wounded!"

"Blind idiot." Fili said affectionately. "They pampered you."

"It wasn't because I was wounded?" The dark-haired brother asked, eyes wide.

"Wounded didn't hurt." The blond allowed.

Kili's eyes lost their glow. "I'm going to outlive you." The words tore at his heart, but his brother didn't react as he thought.

"You always were." Fili responded solemnly. "Now it's just been extended by a bit."

"More than a bit." Kili sounded despondant. "Mayhap a thousand years more than a bit." He turned and stared at his brother. "You knew?"

"Guessed." Fili's blue eyes watched him sadly and he held open his arms. Kili slid into the brotherly embrace, like he'd done since being a dwarfling.

When the younger dwarf began to cry for the first time since he'd been very small, neither said a word. Fili just held him tighter and ignored the dirty boots ruining the nice sheets.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	12. In which Kili learns to listen to the wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger warning! But when in doubt refer to helpful story tags. Ahem. No warnings of major character death. Thank you.

Kili woke feeling groggy and with a bad headache. He groaned and nearly gagged. His mouth felt dry and nasty.

"Slug-a-bed." Groused an amused older brother from somewhere on the other side of the room.

Looking up reluctantly, Kili could only see a portion of his brother grinning at him and looking far too alert. His own dark hair was blocking his view. Feeling too foggy to move his hair out of the way, he blew on a few strands. It didn't help.

Fili frowned. "Are you alright? You look flushed."

Grimacing, Kili managed to move to sitting at the edge of the bed. He ached. "I feel like a slag heap." He said, referring to waste material from mining.

His older brother's frown sharpened and he walked over, pushing Kili's mop of unruly hair out of his eyes. Fili put his hand on the back of his brother's neck. "Fever."

"Not sick." Denied Kili, irritated. "I just ...didn't sleep well." He grimaced down at his boots and leathers. "Slept in my gear too."

"You haven't cried since you were six." Fili said softly.

"Haven't been crying." Kili shot his brother a betrayed look, his chin sticking out stubbornly.

Fili rolled his eyes, though still managing to look worried. Then suddenly, without obvious cause, he laughed.

Kili's dark eyes widened as he looked around, but couldn't see what his brother could be finding so amusing. "Huh?"

The blond prince grinned and shrugged. "When you were six ...you _didn't_ cry because Haffa said you looked like an elf with your first bow. Remember?"

Kili stared at his older brother, appalled.

Fili's blue eyes twinkled and he rocked back and forth on his heels.

"Not funny." Kili grumbled, then closed his eyes and thought about the little dwarf-maid he'd been so mad at when he was six. His lips twitched. "Kinda funny."

"Said you looked like an elf." Fili spread his arms out and grinned like a loon. "I wanted to hit her and you wouldn't let me, and you were hiding your face so I wouldn't see you cry."

Kili laughed, then groaned and put his head in his hands. "That hurts."

"An elf! I wonder what she'll say when she finds out the truth? We need to tell Thorin she's a far-seer and bring her to Erebor." Fili was still smiling. "You could court her."

"She said you looked like a bloodhound with your lopsided braids and long nose." Kili reminded his older sibling.

"Bah. What does Haffa know?" Fili waved a hand in dismissal, changing his opinion on her in a heartbeat. "Half-wit. Obviously demented."

"She married one of the Steelbraids."

Fili nodded sagely, pretending to change his mind back. "That settles it. She's brilliant, marrying rich. Need to make her a counselor."

"The Steelbraid middle brother." Kili pointed out, referring to the scrawniest of the three siblings. And one who'd mocked Fili back when they'd all been young dwarflings.

"Half-wit." Fili pronounced with finality, and a mocking grin. "Like I said. She's an idiot. Definitely."

"Haffa Half-wit." Kili tasted the words. "I like the sound of that."

Fili rubbed his chin and sighed. "Great. Now if she does come to Erebor I'm going to be thinking that in the back of my head every time I see her. Damn it, Kili!"

"You started it." The younger brother pointed out and rubbed his knees as if they pained him.

Fili watched his sibling uneasily. Elves were resistant to disease, everyone knew that. And dwarves were extremly hardy and rarely ever ill, especially once past childhood. He put his hand on Kili's neck again, and his brother knocked his hand away in irritation.

"Be right back." Fili said quickly.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin looked between the two dwarrow, then down at his schedule. Two names were not on his list. He shot a look at his counselor.

Balin cleared his throat. "I fit them in."

The king sighed heavily. "It's already going to be a busy day. Trading caravans are due into Dale any day. Supplies need to be handled and patrols need to be made. Not to mention this thrice cursed celebration and needing to find gifts for ELVES!" He glared at Balin as if this was his advisor's personal fault.

Balin cleared his throat again.

Thorin's eye twitched and he turned to a smug looking Nori and a genially smiling Bofur. Despite their expressions, they both felt a bit nervous about speaking with him. Never a good sign. "What? What is it?" Neither dwarrow spoke up fast enough for the king's liking. "Well? Speak or get out."

Bofur coughed as if uncertain. "Think of hobbits. Our Bilbo got along well enough with elves. Think of something the hobbit might like as a gift and you'll be halfway there. Like those holed rags of his."

"Doilies." Nori pointed out, nodding. "Lace thingies."

"Lace." The word dripped with disdain. Thorin rubbed his eyes and looked back at the two members of his company. Two dwarves that had followed him on a foolhardy and more than likely suicidal quest to free Erebor from a dragon. "Friends. Please. Why did you come here to see me? Is there a problem?"

"Yes." Nori said grimly.

"Maybe." Bofur sounded apologetic.

"Get on with it lads." Balin pointed at Nori first.

"There's talk." The sharp-eyed dwarrow said quietly. "There's always talk, but the talk is getting pointed. Speaking on Dis. Dain. Your lads. And who should be ruler."

Thorin's mind, having wandered to his next set of meetings, sharpened and he forgot about other matters as he stared at Nori. A disappointed look crossed his face. "We knew that might happen." He admitted reluctantly. "Once the shock of who Kili's father wore off."

Balin nodded. He and Thorin had talked long about it actually. Neither was inclined to do anything at the moment, not until Dis arrived at least. The white-haired advisor pointed at Nori again.

"Pardon, but in the lower of the low levels, there's even some talk that Dain should be the crown prince. If not outright king. What with him having the army and all." Nori sounded grim.

Crown prince? "Fili is my direct heir." Thorin's look narrowed in anger, but he nodded at the dwarrow to continue. "How wide-spread is this talk?"

"Narrow of narrows." Nori admitted. "The dregs and malcontents. Most are simply celebrating that Erebor is Dwarven again. But dwarrow aren't dwarrow without the occasional grumble and rumble."

"Rumbles have a way of growing if left unchecked." Bofur pointed out, and then fell quiet at a sharp glance from the dwarf beside him.

"You ever had sharp ears and eyes, Nori." King Thorin said with a nod of his head. "And a sharper mind controlling them both."

The dwarrow in question bowed his head simply.

Thorin pointed at Nori. "Can you get a list of who is saying ..."

The tri-braided and coiffed dwarf presented a sheet of parchment with a small flourish of his stubby, and yet quick fingered hand.

The King Under the Mountain raised one eyebrow and then chuckled. "Of course."

Balin took the parchment, scanning the names. "Short list."

"Unpopular too." Nori pointed out. "For now. And it might come to exactly nothing if not for ..." He pointed to Bofur, who blushed.

Thorin looked to the toy maker in surprise. "You've heard something?" Usually the hatted dwarrow was the one speaking, not listening overmuch to gossip.

"Oh aye." Bofur swallowed hard and then straightened his shoulders. "And I'm not the only one to hear. Ain't no secret, though it's not widely known and all. But said aloud with no care about who was around. And some of them around may be on that there list. And if they're not on the list, they should be."

"Bofur." Balin chided, seeing the thinning patience of their monarch.

"Right." The toy maker sighed. "Elladan. He went through the Nute'adad ceremony when Fili was younger. For Fili of course."

Thorin's mind shorted out for a second or three. Then he blinked, his eyes going dry. He turned over this information in his mind several which ways. "Fili is still my nephew, his having a 'second-father' does not change the fact that he is my heir. The heir of heirs, the crown prince of Erebor."

"The nute'adad made him Elladan's son. Legally." Nori pointed out.

Thorin growled low in his throat, frowning menacingly. "Fili is an adult. A fully Dwarven adult. Free to be named my heir."

Nori nodded. "True enough, truth completely. But the talkers, they could confuse the matter. Use it. Especially since you named Fili your heir when he was underage, without his father's permission."

"That elf is NOT his father!" Yelled Thorin, making all three of the other dwarrow wince unhappily.

Balin snapped his teeth together sharply. "We get Elladan to state that Fili is Thorin's heir. Simple."

"No." Thorin snapped out the word like a weapon. "No. No. Again no. Kili is another matter. If what is claimed is true, the elf had no clue that Kili even existed. Fine. But he KNEW Fili existed. And he abandoned him."

"Dis left with the boy ..."

"And the elf did not follow!" Shouted Thorin. "So no. Nute'adad or not, Fili is mine by right of court and blood." He snarled. "And Kili is mine as well, no matter what!"

Balin sighed. "Saying that doesn't make it so. And we can't deny that Kili is ...part ...theirs."

"Watch me!" Thorin roared, his temper soaring higher than logic at the moment.

"My king, wishing the past away has never worked and it won't work now. Kili has Elven blood." Balin held up placating hands to forestall his liege's temper. "The healers, both elven and dwarven were summoned to see Kili this morning."

Thorin's eyes widened with instant worry and concern. He put his hand on the hilt of his weapon, then dropped his grip. It was an old dwarvish saying that blades couldn't solve every problem, just the best problems.

"Lad is fine, just fine." Balin seemed embarrassed and he cocked his head to the side a bit. "I don't understand fully, but basically the song they sung him that first day? It awakened some kind of internal light, I still don't know what they meant by that. But, well, he's having to adjust and all."

"They poisoned him?" Bofur looked as horrified as Thorin felt.

The white-haired advisor shook his head. "No. He's well and hale, but achy. Mayhap this is linked to what they said about him growing, then again ...well, I just don't know."

Thorin groaned, remember what the elven healer had said about Kili gaining a few more inches in height. Dwarflings usually gained their full height and strength at thirty, although not yet mature.

"Maybe his beard will get longer." Bofur speculated with a hopeful look.

Thorin's mouth twisted and he sighed. "Sure. Become more elvish in order to look more dwarvish. We ...can't count on that." His voice trailed off, thinking about his sister's youngest child. "In the mountains, when I got dark, Kili could always bring me out of myself."

The other three dwarrow in the room held their silence. They knew. The quest they'd all shared had been a tight-knit group who'd learned each other well.

"Kili's a bright lad." Bofur said more quietly than he normally talked. "The very heart of us really. He and his brother both."

Thorin's mouth tightened grimly, he turned and stared at Nori until that dwarf straightened and stared back. "My father spoke of King Thror's internal hearing system."

Balin nodded slowly, a small smile playing along his lips. "Spies."

Nori frowned, his sharp mind racing ahead. "Some likely lads could manage something like that, but there are few I'd trust. They be Dain's people."

"I trust you."

The king's words had Nori's head snapping up in surprise. "Me?"

Thorin studied the unrepentant thief carefully. "We are kin."

"Distantly, and maybe not with full honor." Nori referred to being descended from a less than legitimate regal lineage. Hardly a thing discussed openly, not with dwarven sensibilities.

"I called, you answered."

"You called Dori!" The tri-braids of his beard shook a bit as he spoke up.

Thorin shook his head. "I called, and you came. Who else can I really trust? Those who sent us on a fool's errand in order to justify following me? Those who demanded a thrice-damned stone in order to prove that I was worth following? No. I know who has my back."

Nori and Bofur straightened with pride under their king's regard.

"Listen for me. Be my ears. Take no action at this time. You'll have the backing of my treasury and ..."

"Begging pardon, your majesty." Nori stepped forward, bravely interrupting. "But if I'm to do this right, I don't need your treasury. Not much anyway."

Thorin's eyebrows winged upwards, his blue eyes piercing as he looked at his new spy master. "Sources need paying I would think."

"Some." Nori nodded. "But having access to the larder or the ale stores would be better and less obvious. Some coinage, but nothing huge."

Balin shot a look at Thorin, who appeared thoughtful. "You're right, of course you're right. Too much money floating around and they'll know you belong to me."

"And I can't be seen as belonging to you." Nori shook his head, obviously several steps ahead already. "You're going to have to distance me from the throne."

Stunned, Thorin shook his head. "You are of my Company."

Balin looked saddened, but he seemed to understand. "Are you sure of that, Nori?"

The tri-braided thief nodded solemnly. "I'm thinking that I set up a brew house, a tavern. Make noises about being owed more than you've given. No great fight needs to be made, just a few grumbles."

"And I keep my distance." Thorin frowned sharply. "I don't like this."

"Not completely distant." Nori explained. "But no warm words. Anything more would be too much."

Thorin seemed torn on the idea, even if he had made the initial suggestion. "I'd be betraying you."

"That's exactly what you won't be doing, even if no one will know." Nori said with steel in his voice. "You are my king. Fili is your heir. Kili is as well. Dain is a good dwarf and a good warrior, but he didn't come out here until the dragon was already faced and gone."

Thorin stepped toward Nori, putting his hand on the other dwarf's shoulder. He leaned in, and the honorable thief met him halfway. They rested their foreheads together and shared the air between them. "I leave what you tell Dori and Ori to you." The king said quietly.

Nori nodded, grateful.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel watched Kili move away from her, a bit stunned. He'd pretended not to see her. Unsure and a bit hurt, she wasn't sure quite how to react.

Another elf moved up next to her, a quick glance confirming Elladan. Kili's father. Tauriel cast her green eyes downward, embarrassed to be caught looking longingly in the wrong direction. Had Kili ignored her because of his father?

Elladan was watching Kili too though.

Tauriel didn't fidget, that wasn't who she was. She was Silvan, yes. Lower blooded than Elladan. But she was not ashamed of who and what she was. As a former captain in King Thranduil's guard, she knew her worth.

Unfortunately, the High Elves knew where they weighed her worth as well.

Tauriel blinked and started to turn away without offering words. She had not been spoken to, therefore she shouldn't break the silence.

"Do not take it to heart."

The red-haired she-elf paused, surprised. Elladan's voice seemed neutral, but not unkind. Almost hesitant.

"My lord?" Tauriel caught her breath. Oh. She should have expected this. King Thranduil had warned her not to allow Legolas' eyes turn in her direction once. Even when she had not sought such attention. Now Elladan, son of Lord Elrond, was going to ask the same of her. Only ...this time ...it would hurt more. Since her attention had already been caught by a certain dark-haired dwarf prince who'd turned out to be more than anyone had ever thought.

"He is embarrassed. The Light of the Eldar is awakening within him, spreading through him. He is unsure and does not want to appear weak before you."

Tauriel's green eyes widened, and she glanced over toward where Fili and Kili both were mounting horses with Elrohir. "I am owed no explanations." She said as mildly as she could.

"No?" Elladan chuckled, his gray eyes showing no disdain. "What are you gifting to him for Durin's Day?"

Shocked, the red-head stared at Kili's father. "I ...did not think a gift from me would be appreciated." She didn't mention that she had indeed been making a gift anyway.

Now Elladan frowned. "From Kili? No." He closed his eyes and nodded in understanding. "From me. Let me see if I can set your mind at ease. He's already asked me what he thinks would be a good gift for you."

Tauriel couldn't help the slight flush to her cheeks. But she dared not hope. She'd sensed that Elladan wasn't especially pleased about her closeness with Kili.

"And your thoughts?"

"Truthfully? That you're both too young." Elladan said consideringly. "That Kuilaith has had some tremendous blows of late and is still trying to deal with them."

Tauriel nodded, it wasn't condemnation at least. Or orders to turn away.

"My mother's mother enjoys your company." Elladan continued. "Perhaps in time things might continue along nicely. I only ask that you be patient with us. My son as he learns and adjusts to the other side of his heritage. Me as I learn to share."

"Of course." Tauriel said simply, dropping her eyes to keep the joy from shining forth. Not forbidden, not lesser. And not pushed upon Kili either, used to draw him closer. The Lady had reassured her of that, but here was another.

"Are you sure you wish to travel with the Lady to Lorien? It is my understanding you wish to see more of this world. Lothlorien is beautiful beyond compare. But it is woodlands, like the Mirkwood." Elladan gave her a measured look. "You are not confined to one course of action."

Tauriel paused, her mind whirling with possibilities. Was the lord being accepting, or trying to find a kind way to be rid of her presence?

Elladan smiled at her. "So very young." His eyes traced the lines of her face. "And quite lovely. I have not yet thanked you for saving Kuilaith's life in Lake Town."

"There is no need." Tauriel dropped her gaze again, only to find Elladan lifting up her chin gently.

"There is every need." The elf lord responded. "I know you had no idea who he was, or that he was my son. That makes your bravery and kindness that much more exceptional."

"Disobeying orders and reckless." She said, wanting to be clear.

"Young." He countered. "And still brave. Now, come. Help a new father out. I need gifts. For Dwarves." His gray eyes widened comically. "Tell me what you know of Thorin's Company."

"They don't like being locked up." The she-elf replied blandly.

Elladan gave her a caustic look and a heartfelt sigh.

Tauriel couldn't help her answering smile. Elladan wasn't anything like she'd expected. "Nothing green."

The elf lord looked startled, glancing around at the rich colors around them. "The hue?"

"The food." She laughed brightly.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis looked around her cabin with sad eyes. Her work roughened hands reached out and caressed the stair newel posts. Fili had carved these for her when he'd been in his early forties.

Kili had gotten a good laugh at the wooden beasts sticking their tongues out at anyone going up the stairs. Thorin had only grunted when he'd seen them.

She wandered over to the book shelves that Kili and Fili had built for her. Her boys weren't ones for sitting still long enough to really enjoy reading. But Thorin had made sure they learned. Or at least he'd made sure they'd minded Balin as he did the actual teaching. She smiled fondly at the memories.

"Lady Dis?" A hesitant voice, soft.

"Just Dis." The dwarrowdam put down Kili's fiddle bow, worn down from overuse. "I'm just Dis around here."

"Not with Erebor reclaimed." The voice sounded insistant. "My lady."

"Grinis." Dis turned and looked at her neighbor. "I don't deserve such a title."

"Don't be a silly-sort. Of course you do." Her long-time neighbor gave a rough approximation of a curtsy. Dis smiled, it had been so long since she'd practiced court manners. She wasn't sure she could cursy with any more grace herself. "Is it true?"

Too true. Dis smiled and nodded. "Erebor is Dwarven again."

"Yes, no. I mean, is it true that Dain is coming to bring you to Erebor before Spring arrives?" The younger dwarrowdam couldn't keep her hazel eyes from sparkling with hope.

Startled, Dis shook her head. "I'll be travelling in winter, through the mountains. Not a pleasure, I'm more than sure."

"Of course, of course." Grinis smiled reassuringly. "I just wondered if my son could travel with you. He's eager to see the Lonely Mountain."

"Serg?" Dis said, surprised. Where had Serg's eagerness been when Thorin had sent out the call to come to aid in his quest? Where had he been when her own two children had gone off to possibly die with their king and uncle? "Perhaps. Speak with Dain when he arrives."

Grinis smiled hopefully. "I was wondering if you might put in a word for him?"

"No."

Grinis' smile disappeared. "He's a good lad."

"Then he can stand on his own two feet and face Dain like a solid dwarrow and make his own case. Skirts aren't for hiding behind." Dis tried not to sound cold.

"It's all well for you." Grinis sighed. "You were raised ready to sacrifice your blood and kin for the good of all. Regal and everything."

Dis wanted to scream that she'd been barely a child when fleeing Erebor. She simply had vague recollections of the mountain kingdom. There wasn't a time she couldn't remember living a hardscrabble life trying to make ends meet and fill bellies, not just her own family's either. "Serg will be more than welcome to travel if he so desires. But he's of age and can ask for himself."

Grinis disappeared with a sniff to show her unhappiness. Dis sighed, her soul chilled. She didn't bother to explain that Dain might not be well influenced by her words.

He knew. The elves were at Erebor and they all knew her secrets. Soon all would.

Dis plucked at her skirt and frowned. She would need to raid her sons closets, or maybe Thorin's. She needed travel clothes. Thick, serviceable leathers.

"Skirts aren't for hiding behind." Dis repeated to herself, lifting her chin high. She'd put off this moment for over seven decades. That was about to change.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"So why isn't Elladan with us?" Kili asked, looking doubtfully at the river Celduin's mouth. They were on a barely serviceable raft and while it was fairly calm water, there was a swift undercurrent. "Do you know dwarves aren't the best swimmers?"

Elrohir raised an eyebrow.

Fili grinned. "Dense bones. We sink a lot."

"And it has nothing to do with the ton of gear, leather, and metals you carry about every day?" The elf warrior chuckled. "And Elladan had some things to do at Erebor. Our mother's mother wanted a word with him."

Fili shifted over and looked down into the water. "Can't see bottom."

His brother's movements made the raft shift and Kili's eyes widened in alarm, though he managed not to make a fool of himself by grabbing onto things.

Elrohir smiled gamely. "You two were in this river yesterday."

"Not this far out." Kili grumbled. "Does Elladan know you're bringing us out here?"

"Yes." The elf lord sighed. "And maybe one day you'll call him your father?"

Embarrassed, Kili shrugged. "Mam isn't here yet."

"Do you really have any doubts?" Elrohir asked quietly. "The light of the Eldar expands within you already, Kuilaith."

Kili winced uncertainly, rubbing his chest. "No one said it would make me feel bad."

Elrohir frowned in sympathy, taking a deep breath. "This is usually done in infancy. And babies react differently than you are. But the healers say you're fine."

Fili sat back up a bit quickly, making the raft shift. He grinned as Kili paled. "Afraid?"

"Never." He then looked at his elvish uncle. "So. What training do you have for us today?"

"Meditation." Elrohir gave a gentle nod of his head. "Since you're not feeling your best. We'll start with breathing."

Fili grinned widely. "Hate to tell you, but we both mastered breathing a long time ago."

Elrohir shook his head. "This is different."

"Stupid." Kili muttered.

"Will help you keep the Lady Galadriel from putting you to sleep with a touch of her mind." Elrohir paused. "Or at least make it a challenge for her."

Kili brightened at the thought. Lord Elrond hadn't had a chance to start before he'd left to return to Rivendell.

"You'll learn to 'hear' the trees, the water, the very nature of all around us. Learn their names, and learn what they have to share." Elrohir settled into a cross legged position, closing his eyes. "Now. Take a deep breath in ..."

Nothing happened.

Elrohir opened his eyes to find both dwarves staring at him with incredulity. Clear blue eyes and laughing dark eyes.

Fili pointed to a tree on the bank. "Maple."

Kili pointed to a taller one. "Giant oak."

"Black oak. Which is different." Fili pointed to the opposite bank.

Dark eyes glanced at the river mouth they were currently floating on. "That's water." He said in a mockingly helpful manner.

"How many birds in those trees? When will the first snow arrive? How deep was the last snow? How high does this river mouth typically rise? What kind of fish swim near the top? Or the bottom? How healthy are the trees here?"

Fili's mouth dropped open and Kili shook his head.

Elrohir smiled. "Breathe. First, we breathe."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Thrice damn them goblins." The Orc chieftan growled.

"They don't like to travel in the light." The second orc glanced fretfully up at the sun, not wanting to admit he wasn't thrilled with the idea himself. "Darkness be a better cover."

The chieftan made a fist of his hand out of frustration. "Wasted we are, on a mission to watch and learn."

A third orc, laying on the ground overlooking the next area put a fist out to the side.

The chieftan frowned. "What?"

"I'm learning that dwarves float."

The orc chieftan hurried over, dropping low so he wouldn't be spotted. He looked out over the river mouth. The raft was easily spotted. Two dwarves and what looked like the ugly stretched out form of an ... "Elf."

The second orc looked uncertain as his chieftain's horrific face split into a magnificent and malicious grin. "We was told not to engage?"

The chieftan nodded, reaching for his quiver. "Just a bit of fun. Few quick shots and we be gone."

The second in command winced and waved in the general direction of the small cave where their goblin escorts were holed up for the day. "And them?"

"Goblins." Spat the chieftan. "Let them take the blame if found."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili snorted, more than half-way asleep. His breathing free and easy with the occasional mumble.

Kili sat on the raft, feeling every drift and eddy of the current below as he tried to concentrate.

"Let the trees speak to you, let the leafs tell you what they know of the seasons."

"That they want to fall because it's winter coming?" Kili groused, then batted at a leaf that the wind threw in his face. "See what I mean?"

Elrohir sighed. "Breathe. Clear your mind of distractions. Listen to the air, the wind."

Kili tried. He really, really tried. He cleared his thoughts and concentrated on the energy within him. His uncle called it the Light of the Eldar. He was calling it his intruder. Kili sighed, and let even that thought go.

Birdsong. Rustling of leaves. Wind blowing. The sound of wind was diffent going over water than it was when travelling over stone. He let that thought wander. Leaves. Maple leaves and Oak leaves, could he tell a difference. No. And there was this annoying whistle, getting louder.

A familiar whistle. Fast paced, splitting the air. Kili knew that sound. He'd heard it every single day of his life since he'd first picked up a bow.

Without a questioning thought, he knew where this arrow was heading. He could hear it on the wind. More whistles were coming.

Elrohir was so concentrating on teaching Kili and making sure that Fili didn't fall into the water while asleep that he didn't catch the signs.

"No!" Kili roared suddenly, leaping into action and tackling his uncle without warning.

Elrohir rolled under the impact, his legs knocking into Fili who awoke with a sputter and flailing arms.

Three arrows decorated the raft right where Elrohir had been seated. One of them covered with pitch and lit with fire.

Without hesitation, Elrohir kept the momentum of his roll and took Kili right along with him into the waters of the Celduin. Fili followed them three seconds later.

Wistles on the wind alerted Elrohir this time, as Kili had lost his concentration and was now focused on not swallowing the entire river.

"Down!" Elrohir ordered, dropping down and pulling a protesting Kili with him.

The stronger undercurrents grabbed at them, pushing the trio downstream while submerged.

A flash of red in the water had Elrohir looking around, but the river was whipping his long hair in his face too much. He couldn't tell who was hurt, or how badly.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	13. In which two uncles are under a lot of stress thank you

"Oin, Oin, tell me something GOOD." Thorin groused, feeling on edge with his bubbling temper lurking just below the line of his control.

The older dwarf sighed, pulling down his hearing trumpet and eying his king and long-time friend. "All my news is good. The pointy-eared king made good on his promises. So far. The healing supplies are plentiful, they sent us two healers. Food supplies are being stocked as we speak."

Thorin growled, and despite not having his hearing trumpet raised, Oin seemed to be able to understand that particular sound.

"Laddie. I've examined Kili more'n once. But I can find nothing to refute the elves claim on him. He is more slender of frame than his own brother, taller, more ...er, delicate facial features."

"None of that makes him a damnable Elf!" Thorin groused unhappily, then waved off the comment as Oin reached for his hearing trumpet. "Nevermind. What about this fever he has?"

Oin nodded and made an exaggerated frown. "The Elven healer, not the two new ones, but the one from Rivendell." He waited for Thorin to nod. "Nuluin. Strange names these elvish-fellas have. Anyway. He claims Kili is elvish. Says the fever is not harmful, but a symptom of this Light that all elves have within them."

Thorin stroked his beard absently, looking at the wall of the chamber, thinking hard. "Could it be the fires of the Maker instead?"

Oin shrugged helplessly. Most Dwarves ran to a higher temperature than Men or Elves. In their culture it was known as the Internal Forge, a left-over of their making by The Smith, Mahal. "Perhaps?" He sounded apologetic and unconvincing. "But we dwarves don't usually have spikes in our temperatures without cause. It's a steady heat we have."

"Of course that's what it is. The Internal Forge." Thorin muttered to himself. "Not some damnable elvish lantern sputtering in the wind."

Oin frowned, tapping his hearing trumpet. "Did not catch that last bit."

Thorin scowled, but raised his voice, his deep tones almost a growl. "Kili is a Dwarf."

The elder dwarf sighed heavily. "All of the lad's symptoms could be ascribed to ...growth."

Wild blue eyes pinned the dwarven healer and Thorin had to swallow heavily to keep sharp words out of his mouth. Words that he had no business speaking to a friend who had supported him when few others had.

Oin shook his head. "Dain will be arriving in Ered Luin soon."

Thorin nodded, still unable to unclench his jaw enough to speak. Finally he made a face and sighed. "What if the news is not what I want to hear?"

"It doesn't change that Kili is your nephew." Oin said quietly.

The King Under the Mountain closed his eyes, wildly hoping that all of this was one huge mistake. But part of him was already grieving. "I can't lose him." He coughed quickly. "We can't lose him. Fili needs him by his side."

Oin nodded, but silently thinking Thorin needed both of his nephews by HIS side.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili's blue eyes were wide beneath the water, his lungs aching and with a sharp ache in his calf. He was pretty sure that he'd scraped it badly on something as he went into the water. Or something had scraped him. Like an arrow.

The blond crown prince pushed aside the memory of the accursed arrow that had struck Kili back in their wild escape from Thranduil's prisons. The dark one that had nearly killed his younger sibling. A Morgul shaft the she-elf had named it.

He wouldn't think about that, not now. Bile rose in his throat and ruthlessly he pushed aside any considerations not immediately of consequence.

The undercurrents of the Celduin river mouth were pretty swift, but he knew if they went too far down river, it was only going to get worse. This area was calm in comparison to what was to come if they didn't free themselves from the waters soon.

Turning his head every which way, he couldn't seem to locate either Kili nor Elrohir. Mindlessly he threw out his hands, and his left one got lucky.

Leather.

His fingers grabbed, wrapping around the straps of what he hoped was Kili's coat. Fili pulled with all his strength.

The leather stretched slightly, but didn't give. But since Fili was basically floating in water, the strength of his pulling instead propelled him toward what he was holding.

Suddenly he could see dark tangles of hair. The back of Kili's head. Long even darker hair floated around him. Elrohir.

Kili's arms were flailing. Fili grinned in spite of their predicament. Flailing was good. Flailing meant alive and alert. The blond tugged on the leather belt and Kili's head whipped around, bumping painfully into Fili's chin. Dark eyes met blue eyes.

Relief.

Fili pointed up. Well, he hoped it was up. And kicked, ignoring Elrohir's negative head shake. He couldn't help it. His lungs had no more air.

Blond hair broke the surface of the Celduin with a gasp, a moment later, so did two darker haired persons.

"Dive!" The elf warrior demanded, then followed his word with action. Quick intake of air and then Elrohir was diving back down, still holding on to a protesting Kili.

Preparing to sink back down into the relative safety of the water, Fili filled his lungs. And then an arrow pierced one of them.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel ignored the stares she was getting as she pumped the mechanism that had the whetting wheel spinning. She had blades to sharpen.

A polite cough to her left drew her green eyes. She smiled. "Ori."

The youngest of Thorin's Company smiled back at her almost shyly, pleased that she recalled his name. He pointed at a leather strap on the mechanics of the contraption she was making use of. "That's loose, it'll spin better if you allow me ..."

Tauriel stopped her foot movements, and leaned back. "It's not like the ones we have. Clever contraption though."

Ori reached in and tweaked something, then waved at her to try again. First pump of her foot and her eyebrows raised. "That is better, my thanks."

Tauriel was prepared to get back to work, but the young dwarf didn't move away. She waited, and then tilted her head slightly, her red hair sliding silkily with her movement. "Ori?"

"Do you like pictures or knitted items?" He asked nervously.

The she-elf smiled at him in encouragement. "Yes to both." Then paused. "For me, and most elves. Pictures better than knits. Lace is a treat. Poetry is always welcome. Candied fruits. But then knitted things are welcome in the deep of winter."

"Buttons?" Ori asked gently. "Belts, decorated clasps?"

"Yes." Tauriel smiled. "I'm not hard to please."

Blushing, the dwarf toed the ground at his feet. "But you saved Kili's life. More than once. And the king's."

"Because I wanted to." Tauriel said cautiously, but still smiling. "They are fine dwarves." She paused, remembering too late that Kili wasn't fully dwarrow. "I did not mean ..."

Ori's smile was quick, as was the shake of his head. "I know." He then took a deep breath, sending her a questioning look. "Our king hasn't been completely nice to you."

"My king was less than welcoming, or nice, to you." Tauriel skipped over the part where Thranduil was no longer technically her liege.

"If you had to choose a gift ..." Ori's voice trailed off suggestively.

The red-haired elf smiled and shook her head. "Any gift given from someone who is a friend is more than enough."

"Friend?" Ori looked a bit startled, and pleased.

Tauriel shrugged, her cheeks slightly pink. "I would so hope. You were kind enough to show me around Erebor when I first got here, to keep me from being completely lost." Then the red-head smiled widely. "That is if you're asking these questions for yourself, and not for a cowardly young prince who is trying to be sneaky."

Shock. Laughter. Bemused acknowledgement. "Should I tell him that you called him cowardly?" Ori asked, wrinkling his nose adorably.

"You should indeed." Tauriel nodded firmly. "Or better yet, send him to me when he returns and I'll tell him as well."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elrohir's eyes rounded with acute distress. Arrows peppered the area over them. And Fili was struggling to dive, uncoordinated and obviously injured.

The elf lord reached out and snagged one of the arrows that dared to come too close. Wood. Elrohir felt relief go through him. By the feel, it was local wood. New arrows. Not made in Mordor. His hand tightened and the wooden shaft snapped.

If their attackers had Morgal shafts, they wouldn't be wasted on shots that weren't far more sure. They wouldn't use them to needlessy pierce the water, wasting such weaponry.

Elrohir didn't hesitate, he swam up and captured the back of Fili's coat, dragging him down to the relative and murky safety of the Celduin.

Kili struggled free of his uncle's grip and grabbed Fili around the chest, encountering the arrow in his brother's chest. His mouth opened in a scream, and he choked on the water.

Elrohir felt the movement of the water change, quicken. He frowned, they were further downstream than he'd considered. Visibility was limited, but the shift in the pattern of the current told it's own story.

Kuilaith was struggling harder now, choking and Fili's movements appeared weaker. Elrohir calculated quickly. It seemed that the arrows had been shot from a higher trajectory. The short bluffs on the far side of the river mouth. A few more minutes drifting with the current and they should be out of range.

Should be.

His young nephew was swinging his arm now, his other wrapped around his brother. Clearly Kuilaith knew it to be safer to stay underwater, but that was no longer an option. He needed to breathe.

Elrohir turned his body and dragged Kuilaith up toward the water surface. Fili came with them, as his brother wasn't about to let go of the blond dwarf.

They broke the water surface, with the elf's back facing the direction their attackers had shot from.

Kili was spitting out water and dragging in air desperately, but his mind clearly registered that his elvish uncle was putting his own body between the two brothers and any possible attack.

Elrohir heard the struggled breathing coming from young Fili, and was grateful for it, no matter how it pained him.

"Move." Kili grabbed Elrohir's robe. "Don't." His voice was weak, and barely discernable over the increasing sounds of water movement.

So focused on protecting the two youngsters, Elrohir almost missed the meaning of the increased churning of the waters. No arrows arrived, but new dangers presented and he motioned for Kili to head toward the river bank.

He moved forward as well, away from the fallen trunk of a massive oak from the other side of the river. The branches snaked out as if a weathered skeletal hand was reaching for the trio. Elrohir moved with Kili when his long, long elven hair snarled in the branches behind him, yanking him back.

Kili watched with wide, disbelieving eyes as Elrohir disappeared right in front of him, back into the unforgiving rushing waters of the Celduin.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dwalin frowned at the dwarven guards. "That hauberk is a disgrace!" He yanked the offending piece of armament off the top of the crated pile.

Dain's warriors shifted their weight, shooting glances at each other and basically ignoring Dwalin's towering presence. "It's just for the shipment to Dale." One finally said, yawning.

Dwalin picked up the metal linked shirt meant to protect the chest. His stubby fingers poked through in three places. "What's this supposed to protect you from? An irate granny with a fry pan or blunt chopping block?"

A greasy-bearded dwarrow sneered. "It's meant for the Men."

"You mean our current allies?" Dwalin snapped furiously. "What's your name?"

"Gagnar, son of Agnarr." The dwarrow looked down the impressive length of his hooked nose. "Iron Hills." As if that meant that Dwalin had no say in anything he was doing.

A younger dwarrow, straight and shiny in his armor, moved up to the group. "What goes here?"

The dwarrow who'd been packing the crates all straightened. "Captain, sir!"

Dwalin looked over at the newcomer. He silently held up the shoddy hauberk and wiggled his fingers through the holes. The captain's eyes widened, then hardened.

"Gagnar? You and your men were on guard duty today. What are you doing lugging around crates of armor you were supposed to send down to be melted ...yesterday?"

Dwalin straightened up. "Said they was sending it to Dale."

The Captain from Dain's army shook his head. "Sent those deliveries on this morning." He sighed. "Stealing is unworthy."

Gagnar laughed nervously. "It's poor workmanship, old and broken. We wasn't stealing nothing important."

Dwalin turned over the entire crate. The top layer was exactly as described, but underneath were much better quality armor. He sighed. "Best to stop those shipments to Dale. I think that the rest of the junk is in the bottom of those crates instead. Hate for those shipments to reach our allies, let them think we Dwarves are without honor." He snarled the words heatedly.

The Captain nodded grimly, pointing at his aide to get things moving. He turned to Dwalin with an apology and a grimace. "Those dwarrow were assigned to be guards today."

And not at their posts. Dwalin nodded with a sharp frown. "Where?"

"Not where, but who."

Dwalin's eyes closed and he sighed. "The princes?"

The captain grimaced. "That elf said they were going back to that river mouth today."

"That area was swept and cleared." Dwalin noted. "And the lads have the elf with them too." Still, something worried him. He looked over at the captain who was turning away. "Wait. Who cleared that area?"

The captain looked over at his aide, who flipped through some papers. The assistant paled. Dwalin sighed and made a sour guess. "Gagnar, son of Agnarr?"

The assistant nodded, looking haggard.

Gagnar turned his head aside and spit, he looked back at Dwalin impertinently. "They be fine. Got an elf and a mongrel with them, don't they?"

Unfortunately Gagnar's nose would not improve for being broken so harshly, and Dwalin's temper did not improve even with the crunching of the dwarrow's nasal cartilage.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili didn't know what to do. Fili was injured and struggling to breathe. His uncle was underwater, trapped and caught by his own hair.

"Get him." Fili coughed, wincing and obviously in pain.

"No." Whimpered Kili, tightening his grip around his brother's chest. But his eyes didn't leave the area where Elrohir had disappeared. "He's strong, he'll get loose." He said with more wishful thinking than hope.

Fili pried at Kili's fingers, loosening his grip. "Go. I'll hold here." The crown prince moved toward the rocks along the side of the river bed.

With deep misgivings Kili looked over at the ridge where the shooting had all started. What if their enemies were coming even as he hesitated.

Brother. Uncle. One he treasured beyond all else. The other he'd just met and wasn't even sure about, not really.

"Go." Fili's voice was a demand.

Kili turned and deposited the blond among the rocks with a stern look that told him clearly what was in his heart. "Don't die, idiot."

Fili grunted as Kili moved toward the fallen oak with determination.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dwalin and Thorin both stared down at the broken crates holding the stolen armor. The King Under the Mountain blew out a frustrated breath. "The shipment to Dale?"

"Delayed." Dwalin sounded no less irate. "But found in time to keep the delivery of bad goods from the Men."

Thorin nodded slowly. "The dwarrows responsible?"

"Punishment work details. Scrubbing Erebor from top to bottom. On their knees." Dwalin smiled grimly, thinking of Gagnar with his now bruised eyes and throbbing nose. "It's a large mountain."

"Indeed." Thorin agreed. "The princes?"

"Have that Elven uncle with them." Dwalin said with a frown.

Thorin's frown was deeper than his long-time friend's. "I'm their only uncle." He snapped.

Dwalin's mouth clicked shut with a snap and he gave a terse nod. His king wavered back and forth on the subject of the elves being any kin to Kili. He could understand why too. If strangers suddenly descended upon him claiming Balin, he'd have difficulty as well. "I can go out there with a few dwarrow."

Thorin shook off the offer. "You're needed here. Send two you trust."

Dwalin's eyes flashed. These were Dain's warriors, not his own. He didn't know them well enough yet. A flash of red caught his eye and he smiled grimly. "I can send Ori and Tauriel. They're over there."

If Thorin's posture got any straighter he'd snap in two. He glared at Dwalin, who didn't back down. "She's an elf. Are you saying that you trust her?"

"She saved Kili's life." Dwalin pointed out. "More than once. Your own as well. And Ori accounted himself well at the Battle."

Thorin grimaced, clearly unhappy. He looked up at the sky and then back at the entrance to Erebor. "No. Me and you. I need see what the lads are up to. I need to ...breathe."

Dwalin nodded in understanding.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Underwater, Elrohir's hand trailed down his long hair to find the snarl, his fingers felt the tangles. Hopeless. Without qualm, he pulled free his dagger and followed the length of his hair down to the snarl, swiftly cutting the dead branch free from the limb and leaving his hair intact. Even as he did so he mentally laughed at himself for elven vanity. He'd see if he could free the wood from his hair without damage later.

He turned to follow the dwarves, when suddenly Kuilaith was right in front of him with wide eyes, dark and frightened.

Elrohir nodded and turned the lad pointing back the way they'd come. Kili looked relieved as the two headed back toward Fili. His head broke the surface of the river, and then stared.

Fili wasn't there.

Dark eyes flew over the area, and a glimpse of muddied blond hair had him moving quickly. His brother had slipped from the big boulder and was clinging to two smaller ones, the currents stronger and Fili weaker than he'd realized. "Brother!"

Elrohir tried to tell Kili to head to the shore and that he'd retrieve the young dwarrow. But Kili was beyond reason, his dark eyes glued to his older brother, willing strength to him. Panicked sounds came from deep in his throat as the dark-haired prince struggled through the heavier currents of the Celduin in his thick leathers and sodden clothing. Elrohir slipped past him and to Fili before the younger siblling could manage to get half-way there.

The tall elf was having his own troubles with the heavy current. He was strong, very strong, but he was lighter of weight than either of the two dwarves with their heavier bone density. The giant fallen oak that had earlier ensnared his hair was redirecting current around and under it, causing problematic fluctuations in the water pattern.

Gritting his teeth, Elrohir reached Fili and wrapped his arms around the young dwarf prince just as Kili finally reached them.

Kili was on the shore side and Elrohir passed Fili toward him. The dark-haired young lordling smiled grimly as he accepted his brother's weight. The three then inched their way along the protective rocks toward the shore. But although the large boulders and rocks did protect them from being pulled even further downstream, the heavy current was doing it's level best to dash them against those same rocks.

Being taller meant the Elrohir was the first to have his feet find purchase while Kili was swimming hard and carrying much weight. The dark haired youth was struggling onward, doggedly determined even as the river fought him for every inch gained. Using his feet, weighted down as he was with the large dwarven style boots, while his arms were wrapped closely around his brother's upper chest.

With his feet finding the river bottom, Elrohir moved forward to help more when Kili's head dipped nearly below the surface. The youth persevered and resurfaced quickly, but the currents dragged Fili, swinging his body dangerously closer to the rough boulders.

The elf warrior grunted and surged forward, inserting himself between Fili and the rocks, ready to catch or cushion him. Kili eyed his uncle gratefully, though it turned out to be unnecessary as the mixed-blood prince managed to regain control. Elrohir nodded gravely when, under the surging water, one of the rocks he was pushing off from shifted unexpectedly.

Elrohir spun, trying to find his balance and managed to keep his head from hitting the large pale gray stone with its sharp craggy edges. He turned enough to spare himself a concussion at the very least, only to have his left shoulder take the brunt of the blow. Sudden pain made him gasp as things internal, shifted queasily.

Small bright lights of pain and a realization that something was wrong hit him, making Elrohir gag for a moment before he straightened. Standing once more in the water, the tall elf saw Kili's wide and worried eyes on him. He smiled at his nephew grimly, ignoring his pain as he herded them all toward the shore.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dwalin looked over at Thorin. "You can lose the scowl now."

The monarch gave a short bark of laughter. "That bad, am I?"

"Yes." The large dwarven warrior wasn't much for white-washing the truth. "We won, my friend. Impossible quest. Impossible odds. Against trolls, goblins, elvish prisons, orcs, dragons, elves and men, and then goblins and wargs."

Thorin shook his head although managing a half-smile. "Don't forget the stone giants of legend."

"Oh no, mustn't forget them." Dwalin whistled tunelessly.

"And madness." Thorin's smile all but disappeared, his pride still stinging at how close he'd come to throwing away everything important for mere gold. Becoming all but blind to anything other than treasure, like his grandfather.

Dwalin grunted uncomfortably. "Not mad."

"Close. Too close." Thorin sighed heavily.

"Gone?" Asked the large warrior.

Thorin shrugged. "I have to stay focused on what's most important. Family. Friends. Kingdom. People."

Dwalin nodded, his bald and tattooed head reflecting the rays of the sun. "Family."

The King sucked his upper lip against his teeth for a second and then forced himself to relax. "They have to be wrong." About Kili. He didn't have to say that part aloud, it was a given.

Dwalin stayed quiet for nearly a mile, and then cleared his throat as they rode along. "And if he is partly of their bloodline?"

Thorin growled. "No."

"But if he is?"

The dark-haired king shook his head. "You say you trust that red headed elf. I say none of them have honor, or truth."

Dwalin fell silent again, knowing an impossible to win argument when he heard one. "If you guard your heart with mithral, no one will ever touch your heart again." It was an old saying, older than the kingdom of Erebor even.

Thorin frowned, and then his eyebrows narrowed. He looked toward their destination. "Do you hear that?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili didn't stop once he reached the shore, as much as he wanted to collapse, he did not dare. Instead he half dragged and half lugged his stumbling brother up into the tree line with his uncle behind him. "An ...anything?" He had little breath left.

Elrohir was scanning the area carefully. "No. Our attackers appear to be on the other side of the river. Shooting at targets of convenience maybe?"

"Maybe." Kili sounded doubtful as he lowered his older brother to the ground carefully.

Fili groaned, coughing and in obvious pain. He looked pale, with pain lines radiating from his eyes and mouth, unhidden by his beard.

Elrohir moved swiftly to the blond, inspecting the wound with a sinking dread. Blood seeping around the shaft of the arrow, which had broken off in their adventures in the water. Grimly, he saw what he'd hoped he would not.

"Have to get that out." Kili panted, reaching for his knife. Elrohir reached over and stopped his hand, shaking his head. "What?"

Small red bubbles surrounding the wound. "Lung is compromised."

Kili's already pale face went ashen white and he suddenly felt faint. Angrily he pushed aside his terror as best he could and leaned in, seeing what the elf had already noted. Quickly he pulled his knife anyway, reaching for his leather outer coat.

"This instead." Elrohir winced with pain as he tugged off his own outer robe. "The fabric will breath better than your leathers."

Kili watched his uncle, knowing he was right and taking the fine coat and cutting it into strips. He looked up and bit his lip, his dark eyes worried. "Your shoulder."

"Dislocated. I know. Nothing mortal I can assure you." Elrohir's face set into grim lines, clearly willing himself to ignore the pain. "We need to get Fili to the healers, fast."

Kili wrapped his brother's chest, with Fili struggling to sit up and help. Tightening the fabric on three sides of the wound, but not the fourth. As he drew the fabric taut, the harsh sounds of Fili's struggles to breathe eased a little. But only a little. Blue eyes looked up at Elrohir, the young fighter unhappy to be so weak. "I can move."

The elf shook his head. "It's too far to walk, not in this condition."

They all knew where their horses had been tied up. Back where they'd been attacked along the shore near the tree line.

Kili nodded grimly. He held up his dagger. "I'll get the mounts."

Elrohir shook his head and stood. "I'll go."

"I'm the only one uninjured." Kili growled, ignoring his fatigue. Pushing his wet hair out of his eyes. "I can do this."

"I know you can." The tall elf shook his head. "But I know those horses better than you." Elrohir pointed out calmly. "Been working with them since we arrived. They'll follow me without leading them."

Kili gritted his teeth, unwilling to give in. "You're hurt."

Elrohir wished he had his sword on him, but it was back with his horse. "We are without our redoubtable dwarven guards today. We're on our own."

"Guards?" Fili coughed, mouthing the word more than speaking it.

"Don't try and tell me you two didn't know." Elrohir snorted with dark amusement and drew two fine and matching daggers. "We have never left Erebor without watchers. But I did not sense them today."

Fili grimaced and closed his eyes, drawing a sharp protest from his younger brother. Opening his eyes again he tried to smile at Kili, but guessed from the worried expression on his sibling's face that his smile was less than reassuring. He'd known about the guards, but hadn't thought much about it really. Until now. By Durin's Axe and Blood, where were they?

Elrohir started to hand one of his matching blades to Kili. "You may need more than one."

Kili and Fili both grinned evilly. The younger sibling reached into his brother's boot and drew a wicked looking blade. Fili's fingers only fumbled a little, digging into his sodden furs to pull out a larger hilted dagger. Kili then reached to the opposite boot, pulling forth an intricately etched but slender blade of lethal sharpness. Elrohir gave a rough laugh as Fili pulled out yet another from his other side.

Elrohir turned to go, but Kili stood quickly. "Let me bind your shoulder." His young nephew moved toward him.

Elrohir shook his head and turned away before his nephew could offer further protest.

Kili hissed in frustration, but when Fili started coughing painfully, he became fully distracted, returning to his brother. Worry lines marring his youthful face.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elrohir ran swiftly through the wooded cover along the bank of the Celduin. His gray eyes scanning the area carefully, using every sense he had at his disposal. Something he should have been doing while training his nephew. Nephews really.

Appalled at his lapse, the elven warrior berated himself on letting today unfold as it had. No, he couldn't have known that the area was no longer secure as it had been proclaimed by Erebor guards. No, he could not have foreseen that their dwarven guards would not be around today. But that did not excuse the fact that young Kuilaith had more than possibly saved his life. He might have sensed the danger before it was too late, but his nephew had reacted first. Unacceptable.

Grimly, Elrohir separated his mind from his pain. He could hurt later. Not now.

It wasn't terribly long before the tall elf was slowing, recognizing the area. And hearing the horrible reality.

High pitched squeals, grunts and panicked sounds let him know that the horses were injured. The elf lord jumped into the trees, the leaves barely stirred as he moved. Sure-footed, Elrohir raced through the branches, spinning and leaping quickly but with great care. Even with one arm useless, he was a thing of grace.

The elf lord slowed as he neared the area where the horses had been left tied up. Arrows decorated the ground. One horse was already dead, bled out. Elrohir frowned unhappily. The second horse was wounded, scared and in pain. The third was frightened and straining to break loose, but looked unharmed.

He hated ignoring the plight of a wounded animal, and leaving another in danger. Especially horses. But there was something else. He was not alone.

Silently he used the tree limbs to circle the area, until he was looking down on two dwaves that he recognized. Elrohir grimaced, weighing his options. He gave a soft tri-toned whistle. Immediately both dwarves looked up. They didn't see him, shadowed as he was among the trees.

Elrohir whistled again, both pairs of eyes homed in on him this time. The elf nodded, then dropped soundlessly down behind the dwarven king and his right hand dwarrow.

Thorin's eyes widened as he took in the elf's distressed condition, with tangled hair, torn and still damp clothing. Dwalin stared at the elf's grossly distended shoulder, and saw the dangling arm. He knew a dislocation injury when he saw one.

Thorin's eyebrows shot up as he looked around, worried. He even searched the tree limbs above, as if his nephews might be stashed there. Elrohir shook his head and pointed down river, holding up two fingers and nodding.

Dwalin's jaw lost some of it's horrid tension and he nodded in return. Until Elrohir put a hand up at the level of Fili's head, then poked himself in the chest, grimacing.

Thorin didn't miss the message, his crown prince was injured. Elrohir turned and pointed across the river and then over at the horses still in distress.

Dwalin frowned. Arrows. Ambush.

Thorin looked back at the struggling animals. Elrohir threw out a dagger and put one injured animal out of it's misery. Shocked, the king turned and glared at the elf. The end of the squealing panic of the horse was a relief, but it would also alert any enemies of where they might be.

Elrohir then took his second dagger and threw it expertly. It severed the reins of the uninjured animal. A soft tri-tone whistle had the animal trotting directly to the elf.

With one good arm, Elrohir caught the mane and bounded onto the back of the mount with unrivaled grace. He looked down at the two dwarves, who moved swiftly through the underbrush toward where they'd left their own horses.

It took several minutes to reach their mounts, but the dwarves climbed onto the saddled ponies quickly. Though without the grace of the much older elven warrior.

Quickly the trio moved on their way to retrieve the two princes of Erebor.

Thorin looked back toward the river. His voice was little more than a whisper. "That horse could have been treated. Only one arrow in the hind quarter. You didn't have to slay it as you did. He was only panicked."

Elrohir shook his head solemnly. "That horse was already dead. Morgal shaft. Panic yes, poison and pain were overwhelming. If the lads weren't injured we could maybe find the herbs necessary to treat. But doubtful. He would have been dead in another hour, and in terrible agony. It was a mercy to end it."

Thorin scoffed. "Morgul shaft? Such as one that Kili took? He lasted over a day with such a wound."

Elrohir seemed surprised at the king's attitude. "Morgal shafts were created in Mordor. Filled with evil and poisons. Kuilaith lasted so long only as a testimony to his strength in fighting the pain. The horse could not have done so."

Dwalin shot Thorin an unreadable look.

The king looked ahead and urged his mount forward, following the elf to his nephews. But his mind was spinning. He could not release his ears of the echo of that horse's squeals and panic. Was that what Kili had been fighting back in Lake Town? That writhing, horrible, painful death creeping upon him?

This is what he'd told the lad was a mere flesh wound?

Thorin swallowed hard and urged his mount faster.


	14. In which there are history lessons; and pants

The elf and two dwarven warriors moved quickly through the area, back toward where Elrohir had left the two princes of Erebor.

Dwalin looked at the back of the tall elf, and then over at his friend and king. Both were tense beyond measure. "How badly is Fili injured?"

There was a heavy silence for a very long moment, and Dwalin wasn't sure if he was being ignored. But finally Elrohir answered as if reluctant. "Lung is punctured, how badly I am as yet unsure. He was awake and aware when I went to get a mount."

Thorin, already tense, straightened even further. His dark eyes should have burned holes through the elf lord's back. "Morgal wound?" Like the horse that Elrohir had just granted final mercy?

"No." This response was at least quick. "By creation, it is a normal shaft and unpoisoned."

Dwalin's teeth unclenched slightly and he flexed his jaw, wondering if he'd cracked anything so worried had he been for that answer. Thorin didn't look much better, though some color did return to his pale face.

Both dwarves were mindful of the scene of panicked pain and creeping death they'd just witnessed but a moment ago. A bad reminder for one dwarrow, for the other a revelation. Thorin shot Dwalin a pleading look.

Dwalin couldn't reassure him. In this, his king had been so very wrong. "Bofur and Oin both told you. Fili told you."

Hearing the censure in the voice of his long-time friend, Thorin's stomach rolled. Grimly he gave a brief nod. "I was blind."

Elrohir didn't look back behind him, leading the group onward. But he did question. "Blind?"

Thorin's usually piercing blue-eyed gaze closed briefly as if in pain. "I dismissed Kili's wound from the Morgal shaft as a smaller thing. I didn't want to be beholden to an elf for saving his life." The dwarrow's voice was drowning in guilt. "It was a betrayal."

Comfort came from the least likely place. The elf's voice was gentler than it had been before. "I heard the story of Lake Town. You could not have known of the arrow's effects."

Thorin's guilt would not allow him to accept even the kind words. "I have denied, many times, that I owed anything to ...her."

"Tauriel." Dwalin supplied the name obstinately, unwilling to let it go even for Thorin's sake.

"Indeed." The Dwarven King swallowed his bitterness as best he could.

Elrohir ducked under a tree branch in his way. One that the dwarves rode right under without a problem. "As for betrayal." The elf continued, notes of his own guilt in his modulated voice. "I knew we were not being followed by our usual dwarven guards today. I ...was happy for it. And now this."

Thorin coughed and gave a heartfelt sigh. "The area was supposed to be clear and safe. And the failure of the guards is not on you."

Dwalin growled. "There's enough guilt here to drown us all. Let's just get on with this rescue. Is Fili hurt any worse than the arrow?"

"Not that I could tell, but I was in a hurry to retrieve the horse in order to return the princes back to Erebor for healing." Elrohir's voice sounded subdued. "Kuilaith is uninjured, but wasn't feeling well in the first place. Nearly drowning I'm sure will not help."

Despite their moment of accord just a moment ago, Thorin's jaw clenched at the sound of Kili's elvish name, and a reminder that his nephew had some foreign light within him.

Sensing the problem, Dwalin asked the first question that came to his mind in order to distract. "Does Fili have an elvish name?"

Thorin's blue eyes widened with shock and disappointment, shooting his friend a fulminating look. His temper clearly ready to explode.

A chuckle actually defused the situation a bit as the Elf shook his head. Letting the dwarves see the tangled mess and twisted branches still caught in Elrohir's long hair. "Dis would not allow such. Very formidable when in a temper, your sister."

Unsure, and very uneasy, Thorin eyed the back of Elrohir's head. He did NOT like the familiarity the elf had with describing Dis. It leant credence to the tale of Kili's existence. On the other hand, "That is true." He admitted with caution. "She does indeed."

Dwalin nodded, he knew the dwarven princess as well. "Why?"

Elrohir shrugged with his good shoulder, and the dwarves could see him tensing up with pain. Though the elf ignored his injury quite capably. "Our father agreed not to gift Fili with an Elvish name after Dis refused. She felt that the name the lad was given by his deceased father should not be dishonored. Although we reassured her that an Elvish name would not replace his birth name, she would hear nothing on the subject. We respected her wishes."

Thorin and Dwalin both had questions after that, but the King Under the Mountain was quicker. "Your father, as in Lord Elrond? Why would he be the one to offer a name, and not Elladan?"

Elrohir turned his head, shooting a look back at the dwarvish king for a moment. A deep sigh escaped him as he turned back to move through the thick underbrush. "Elladan was ...not with us for long stretches. His grief was consuming him. That was the reason for the marriage in the first place, to anchor him to this world. Fili was a charming child though, it was too hard for even Elladan to refuse that bright spirit."

Thorin shifted in his seat, uncomfortable in the tale as it sounded ...real. Too real.

Dwalin cleared his throat. "You didn't gift Fili with an elven name, but were quick to so name Kili as Kuilaith."

Elrohir's voice sharpened just enough to be noticeable. "Kili wasn't given a name by the first husband of Dis. We did Nehili no dishonor to give Elladan's son a new name. Fili's name was the reflection of Nehili, his true father. Kili ...wasn't given a name by his father at all. He wasn't given the chance."

Now extremely uncomfortable, Thorin scowled. His aching need to deny the elves any claim upon his nephew was crumbling. Every word Elrohir was speaking rang with the pure tone of truth and conviction.

Dwalin nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "So. No elvish name for Fili? Not even one of affection?"

Elrohir sighed as he made a small sound of remorse. "Not a name. But ... we did call him Aierstalder, my brother and I. It would anger Dis some of the time, but mostly she allowed it as it was a word of affection and not a proper name."

Thorin looked stunned, absolutely stunned. For a moment he became unfocused, lost in his own memories. When he finally shook himself free, he realized the conversation had continued without him.

The elf was chuckling slightly, but fondly. "Fili was forever jumping out of odd places and whacking Elladan and I with a long stick he called his sword. Dis offered to make us padding for our knees." They could hear the smile that they could not see on the elf's face. "He wanted to be a grand warrior like his uncles."

It was clear that Elrohir was speaking of dwarvish family, and not himself. "Frerin and Thorin both, from what I remember."

"Aye." Dwalin mused, falling into silence.

Thorin seemed lost in his own thoughts, and the group moved as quickly as their stealth would allow in order to reach the two princes.

Little did either Elrohir nor Dwalin know, that of all things, a simple nickname would shatter all of Thorin's hopes and denials.

Aierstalder. He knew that term. Stomach acid rose up within him, clawing up his throat to burn in his chest. In sharp and vivid detail he could see a very young Kili playing 'hide me, find me' with his brother. Thorin himself had been home early on a rare slow day at the smithy, enjoying watching his nephews play.

Fili had been searching for Kili, who had somehow managed to climb the bookshelves despite being so small and was laying in wait. Thorin could clearly remember how pleased and surprised he'd been at the younger sibling's cleverness and fearlessness of heights. When Kili had dropped down onto his brother from above, the resulting cacophony had drawn Dis in from the kitchen.

Fili, once being over getting caught out by his brother, seemed rather proud. He had ruffled the lad's hair and called him a word that Thorin had never heard before. "Aierstalder."

A small thing, and hardly something to become so solidly lodged in his memory. What made it so memorable? Dis flying into an absolute fury over that one word.

Thorin knew his sister to have a formidable temper, but never with her children. With them she was the personifcation of patience and understanding. But not that evening.

He could still recall how shocked and stunned he'd felt as Dis had come close to actually swatting Fili on the backside, scolding him outrageously. In the end, Thorin had intervened and sent the two crying dwarflings off to their rooms in tears and without dinner so he could speak with Dis.

Thorin had of course asked his sister about her fit of temper, and she'd been so apologetic. And frightened. He'd thought it was because he'd seen her lose her patience. But now he knew it was over the strange word. The one she'd claimed had been a bad word the lads had overhead in town and was NEVER to be repeated.

Afterwards she'd calmed, recalling the two repentant dwarflings down for their meal and extra helpings of dessert and cuddles. The whole incident had left Thorin shaken, not that anything horrible had happened, but that Dis had lost such control. He'd never seen it before, and had never seen it since.

"Aierstalder." Thorin said the foreign word, a bitter taste in his mouth. "I missed what you said. What does it mean?"

Elrohir replied softly. "It's elvish. The words just mean a valiant, short one."

Thorin groaned, his thoughts racing. _Oh my sister, what have you wrought?_ He could no longer deny, even to himself, that Elladan was Kili's father. But. He gritted his teeth. That didn't mean that he had to lose his nephew to them.

It didn't mean that at all.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Impossible as it might seem, as fast as Dain and his company raced toward Ered Luin. Word of their coming travelled even faster. Messenger birds flew back and forth between large and small communities.

Dwarrow of every age and every social class flocked to them, asking questions, demanding to know if Erebor was theirs once more.

Hinnin couldn't hide his surprise beneath the veneer of Elvish indifference. How shocked the older elf had seemed, seeing the pure joy and hearing the keening wails of victory. Dain had asked him about his surprise, and in turn had been shocked to find that a lot of elves thought that dwarves didn't have deep emotions. Being beings carved from stone and all.

Hinnin described the only dwarves he'd ever seen in his long, long centuries of living. All had been expressionless, almost dour. Grumpy and without humor.

Dain had laughed and clapped the elf on the shoulder. Explaining how privately the dwarrow held themselves from outsiders. Especially the favored first awakened Elves. He then described how the dwarves saw elves as prissy, proud, uptight, and snobbish.

Hinnin had reluctantly allowed that some of that could be truth. While Dain had, with equal reluctance, admitted that the popular thought of greedy dwarves wasn't without just cause.

"They all seem so eager to brave the mountain passes, even in winter." Hinnin said, riding along beside Dain, looking behind them at the small town they'd just passed.

"We can't take them all, not this trip." Dain chuckled. "We'll have to be selective. Warriors. Crafters. Those with skills in dire need in Erebor. In the spring the general population will be far more welcome and needed.

"In which of those catagories falls this Calbrinia?"

Dain nearly choked at the dry humor of the elf and turned wide eyes on his riding companion. He thought about the handsome and forthright dwarf-maiden he'd promised to bring back to Erebor. He could easily picture her tightly braided rich chestnut hair and curly sideburns, as well as the elegant line of her throat.

"Master crafter?" Hinnin asked innocently. Too innocently.

"Warrior." Dain offered an answer, after a harsh coughing spell. "Our dwarrowdams can be fine warriors and fighters."

"Ah." The elf gave a slow nod of his head. "So. Not because a certain half-dwarven prince might find her attractive?"

Dain actually laughed outright at that, slapping his thigh. "More for a certain blond full-blood prince." He admitted.

Hinnin actually looked interested as he rested his hands on his thighs, his well trained horse giving no problems. "Do dwarven elders choose wives for their young?"

"No." Dain laughed even harder, shaking his head. "The young couple decides, although families can and do speak their minds on such matters. But only those in love, who have found their other half, do marry. Most dwarrow never get the chance, and are focused only on their life pursuits and crafts."

"You?" The elf asked quietly.

Dain shook his head. "Not I. No. Thorin either. Which is why it will be a good idea to bring some beautiful young ladies to Erebor. The crown prince needs to widen his horizons." He cocked his head at the tall elf. "What about you?"

"I have been married for nearly 900 years now." Hinnin admitted. "She is a musician of some note."

Dain scoffed, then laughed uproariously. "Of note? Music? Please tell me the pun was intentional."

Hinnin cracked a wry smile and shrugged. "I've been telling that pun for several centuries. You are the first to find it actually funny. I thank you."

Dain bowed his head regally. "Dwarves love to laugh."

The elf watched the Iron Hills leader speculatively. "Who knew?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili's usually bright eyes looked cloudy with pain, his hands kept moving toward the arrow in his chest. Patiently Kili yet again blocked his brother's hands. "Stop. Don't bother it."

The blond dwarf grimaced and shifted his position painfully, drawing concerned sounds from his younger sibling. "I'm fine." He tried to say, but ended up in an extremely painful coughing spasm. The violent coughs were ineffectual, as the lung wasn't whole anymore. Whistling sounds escaped from his chest cavity.

Kili groaned and held his brother tighter. Sounds heading toward them had his head snapping up, watching the area around them. "Someone's coming."

Fili's hand scrambled at his side. Knowing his brother extremely well, Kili put one of the finely crafted daggers in the blond's hand. He then picked up his own blade.

"Hide." Fili stared at his younger brother, lending the force of his will to his one word command.

Kili gritted his teeth and shook his head.

Fili wanted to shout at him for being a fool. It would be better to leave him, wounded as he was, and wait in hiding. Then if it was an enemy, attack.

"If it's our attackers, they might be on you too fast for me to react in time. No."

Fili lost his frown and nodded. Okay, so his idiot of a younger brother had understood what he meant. But was unwilling.

A tri-tone whistle had them relaxing a bit, though Kili scowled. "He keeps promising to teach me how to whistle like that. But no, he just wants to teach me how to breathe."

"Breathing ..." Fili jerked as his chest muscles spasmed. "Would be good right about now." He ended weakly.

Elrohir moved into sight, and right behind him ... "Thorin! Dwalin!" Kili nearly collapsed with relief.

Thorin was off his horse first, running to his nephews as Dwalin and Elrohir circled the area with weapons at the ready. He dropped to his knees next to Fili, reaching to check the wound.

Kili's hand stopped him. Thorin grasped his younger nephew's hand tightly. "We need to get him back to Erebor."

"Any other injuries?" Thorin demanded to know.

"Nothing major that I can tell." Kili admitted worriedly.

Thorin scooped Fili up in his arms, fairly pushing Kili away as the youth protested what he knew was essential. Fili groaned, his blue eyes closing as he paled alarmingly. The pain had to be horrible.

"Dwalin!"

The tattooed dwarf moved forward, bending down to take Fili's weight as he nearly dead-lifted the young dwarrow into the saddle before him in an impressive demonstration of pure strength. Dwalin wrapped his arms tightly around the crown prince, who was now only semi-conscious and nearly gasping.

"Kili! With me." Thorin climbed into his saddle.

"My horse can carry two with better ease." Elrohir said smoothly.

Thorin growled. Acknowledging that he wasn't Kili's only uncle was hard enough. "You're injured." He snapped and held out his arm to the dark-haired prince.

Kili moved to mount behind Thorin, but his uncle maneuvered him to the front. He didn't have a chance to question the position before Thorin and kicked the horse into a run.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"We're lucky the snows are holding off." Dain licked his lips, tasting the mountain air around them.

Hinnin nodded slowly, then asked a question that had been pressing on him for quite some time. "Dis. Do you know her?"

Dain stiffened. For all their chats on this journey, and even their strangely burgeoning friendship, the subject of Dis had been quietly off limits. He looked up and over at the elf, who was staring straight ahead. "She is my second-cousin." He admitted calmly.

Hinnin contemplated that for a moment, obviously not wanting to ask further.

"I did not know who fathered Kili. Nor did Thorin, on this I do swear by Durin's Axe and Blood." Offered without prompting. "How sure are the elves that he is as you say?"

Hinnin sighed. "Once we knew what to look for, it was obvious. Your Kili does carry the Light of the Eldar within him. It was not awakened, almost hidden. Not obvious at a casual glance."

Dain did not doubt the news, he had no reason to do so. "A way to bring our races closer together." He mocked slightly. "More like an even surer way to destroy any such alliance."

Intrigued, Hinnin turned to look at his riding companion. "Oh?"

Dain stroked his rather full beard. "A child of such bloodlines? How could a wizard so wise as Saruman is rumored to be miss that Elves and Dwarves would never share gracefully?" He sighed unhappily. "Greedy the dwarves might be seen with treasure, but even more so with our families."

The elf's eyes widened slightly and then he nodded slowly. "You have a clever mind, Lord Dain."

The leader from the Iron Hills sighed deeply. "What was meant to draw our races tighter together, may end up ...poorly."

"The Dwarves would fight to keep him." Hinnin didn't offer this as a question, but rather a statement.

"And once discovered, the Elves won't simply give him up." Dain countered, his voice even.

Hinnin's mind raced as he looked around at the scenery around them, smelling the air and knowing that they were lucky it wasn't already snowing. "We will have to work even harder to avoid the breaking of any alliance that might have once been forged."

Dain grunted in agreement. "Luckily, dwarves don't shy from hard work or labor."

"And the elves, in our uptight pride, don't like being manipulated." Hinnin added quietly.

The Iron Hills leader took a deep breath. "Do you think these events were deliberate?" He asked pointedly.

"Saruman the Wise leads the White Council. He would not be easy to so mislead." The elf warrior shook his head. "To answer, I think not. Yet I do not put it past Sauron to use what is at hand for his own purposes."

Dain stewed on that thought for almost an hour as they continued riding across the landscape. "What do you see?" He asked curiously.

Hinnin started, then considered the question. "Trees are preparing for dormancy. Slowing." He looked at Dain's startled face. "Why? What do you see?"

"Minerals. Nothing precious out here on the surface. But possible deposits of copper or the like. Lot of waste materials out here. Pretty enough, but useless."

The elf stared at the dwarf before turning back to stare at the barren rocks and scrub plants. "Not great for grazing."

"Copper ore only contains a little bit of copper within, the rest is without value." Dain grunted. "Still. There's a beauty out here."

Hinnin scanned the area, seeing the starkness of the landscape. "Not enough trees."

"Not enough minerals." The dwarf commented.

Hinnin kept looking around and shrugged. "Pretty enough. In a rugged ruthless way. The rocks here are ancient."

"Mountains. Even those without ore, hold our hearts." The dwarf acknowledged. "I would not like to have Sauron step one foot on this mountain, poisoning it with his foulness."

The elf's mouth tightened. "Nor I." His mind went back to Erebor, wondering how things were going between the two races.

Dain's mouth tightened. "My second-cousin. Dis. She was only ten years old when Smaug desolated Erebor and our people."

"So young." A shocked Hinnin turned to stare at his companion, horrified at a child seeing that destruction. "A baby."

"By the standards of either race." Dain nodded sadly. "And even in happy times we dwarves cling strongly to family ties. These years of exile have not been happy times."

Hinnin took a long time examining the dwarf's words most carefully. It was nearly another hour before either spoke again. "I need to send messages back to the Mountain."

Dain didn't smile, but he was relieved. "I as well."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Hyarya."

From behind Kili's back, Thorin growled over at the elf. "Common please."

"Sorry. Left." Elrohir blinked several times, slightly embarrassed that he'd slipped into elvish.

"He's in pain." Kili whispered.

Thorin grunted, watching the elven rider. That left shoulder was hard to look at, even covered by his tunic. The joint was clearly not resting where it should be, and it was stomach churning to see the dangling arm. But Elrohir's face didn't look like he was in pain. The elf was clearly holding it all back. It was disconcerting to watch.

The king wanted to ask Dwalin how Fili was faring, but the group was moving too quickly. "Can you see your brother?"

"I think he passed out about three miles ago." Kili answered, worry clear in a voice that was too husky. Thorin wondered how much of the Celduin his nephew had swallowed.

His arms tightened around Kili.

The dark-haired prince pressed back against him reassuringly.

"There is nothing in or outside of Erebor that means more to my heart than you and your brother."

Kili started, bumping the back of his head against Thorin's chin. His eyes wide. "Watch where we're going, idiot!" The king admonished.

Settling down, Kili nodded. That last bit had sounded more like the Uncle Thorin he knew. "We should be in sight of the outer patrol guards ..."

A horn blew.

"About now." Kili finished with a grunt of relief and satisfaction.

After that, things turned into a surrealistic blur of activity. Shouts of greeting for the king, alarmed yelling as those around them realized things weren't right. More horns blew.

Dwalin didn't stop at all, pushing forward toward Erebor with a true sense of urgency. Thorin drew up, along with Elrohir, as the king barked out orders for the soldiers and warriors.

Armor glinted in the sun as dwarrows sped into action. A swirl of robes as long golden hair raced toward them. A flood of elvish flew as Glorfindel and Elrohir met. The ancient warrior's eyes flashed with anger as he slid out of his more decorative robe, leaving him in his more utilitarian tunic and breeches. His ever present sword with him, of course.

Dwalin didn't stop with the rest of them, pushing up to the very doors and on into Erebor. The hooves of the horse making a markedly different sound on the fine marble. He was yelling for a stretcher, and the healers.

Two unknown elves raced up to them and Dwalin balked, until Oin came rushing up behind them. The elder dwarf waved at the warrior to relinquish his hold on Fili to the elves. It registered then, these must be the healers Thranduil had sent. Relieved, Dwalin watched as they took control and slid the crown prince off the horse and onto the stretcher with barely a jostle.

As soon as they had every answer he had to give them on Fili's condition, he turned and kicked the horse forward and back outside.

Thorin looked up as Dwalin moved up next to him, the king's eyebrows rose. "With the healers." The dwarven master warrior acknowledged.

Glorfindel returned, leading a huge mount, snorting and obviously ready to ride. He leaped into the saddle as if elves could fly. His chin stuck out as he looked to the dwavish king, as if daring Thorin to deny his right to ride with them.

Thorin nodded gratefully and Glorfindel tilted his head in a slight bow of thanks. The king then took the reins, sliding them to one hand in order to allow Kili to dismount.

"I'll get a mount."

"You'll get inside and let the healers check you out." Thorin denied the young prince with a voice perhaps a bit too harsh due to his worry.

"I can handle myself!" Came the pugnacious response so typical of his younger nephew.

Thorin couldn't help his fond look, even if he did not smile. "You've already proven that, time and again. But you near swallowed an entire river and your brother needs you."

A look of anguish came and went from Kili's expressive eyes, but his determination did not dim. Thorin sighed and leaned in, putting his mouth next to the prince's ear. "I need you here. If something were to happen, your brother would take the crown. Then you. All three of us never need to be gone from Erebor ever again at the same time."

Kili wanted to protest that Fili was here, but considering his brother's condition he knew that to be an invalid argument. He grunted and slid from the horse.

Thorin looked away from Kili's still almost pleading look, right into the eyes of Elrohir. The tall elf gave him a nod of approval. Which only served to make the king irate. He growled and pointed at the elf. "You need a healer too."

Elrohir clearly wanted to argue, but in light of Kuilaith watching him, knew he could not. If the elf got to go even while injured, the prince would renew his own argument to be included.

A jangle of weaponry and the 'thud, thud, thud' of dwarven boots announced the arrival of Gloin and Bifur. The red-bearded merchant yelling loudly for mounts as he checked the harness holding his axes at the ready. He looked up at Thorin. "Bofur's too deep in the mines to ride out with us in time. Bombur is overseeing the replacement of the bellows on the forgest."

"Perhaps you could use another hand or two?"

Thorin whipped his head around, his intense blue eyes taking in the sight of Tauriel on her horse and ready to go. The king wasn't surprised at that as much as the sight of Ori right beside her, already mounted.

"Where is my brother?" Elrohir asked, looking up at Glorfindel.

The ancient warrior started to shake his head, then stopped and looked up. "There."

Elladan came running up toward them, his face going ashen pale as he caught sight of his twin. "Brother?"

"Go." Elrohir shook his head grimly.

To the others it might appear as if Elrohir was showing no signs of pain. But to his twin, the opposite was true. Elladan could read every move of his brother's body and expression, he knew his twin was in pain.

Ignoring his own injury, Elrohir handed the reins to his twin. "Fili is injured, badly. Kuilaith looks to be fine. I am fine."

Elladan gave a reluctant nod as Thorin turned his mount and started to lead the group away. He gained the saddle in one smooth motion. "I leave them to you."

The elf lord winced. "I have already allowed them to be hurt."

Elladan shook his head, his parting words finding his twin as he moved to follow Thorin. "You brought them back alive."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Should we not know something by now?" Elrohir asked, and despite his calm expression no one could mistake that he was indeed agitated.

Nori shared a glance with Bofur, to make sure that the hatted dwarf noticed the elf was balling up the cloth of his shirt in a fist. Bofur nodded. He'd seen. The elf wasn't currently wearing the shirt, being bandaged rather overzealously by Oin once the redoubtable dwarven healer had reduced the dislocated shoulder back into it's proper position. White bandages fairly swathed Elrohir and anchored his left arm to his chest. The vivid bruising didn't show as it was completely covered.

The outer door slammed open and everyone in the room turned to stare as Kili stalked in, followed closely by an irate looking Oin.

"Clothes laddie!"

Kili frowned sharply, wearing the long woolen undergarments favored by dwarves in cold mountain winters. "Dori went to get me something to wear, but he's taking too damned long!"

Nori's eyebrows rose as he watched the young prince, now inspected and scrubbed clean within an inch of his life. Not one particle of muddy river residue was to be seen. "Your hair is still wet." He pointed out helpfully.

"Any word?" When he got no responses, the young prince scowled rather alarmingly. "They should know something by now!" Kili groused, starting to pace in front of the door which lead deeper into the domain of the healers.

"Let me go get you a shirt or a blanket." Bofur offered quietly.

"I said Dori is fetching me something to wear!" Snapped Kili, his dark eyes flashing.

Bofur slid a wry look over at the youth. "I was talking to Elrohir." His thick dwarvish accent lending an exotic air to the elvish name.

"I am not chilled." Elrohir seemed surprised but a bit pleased by the offer. "But I thank you."

"I'm cold looking at you." Bofur sighed and then waved at Kili. "And you."

Kili made a face but didn't respond otherwise.

"You need pants." Bofur said dryly.

"I'm covered." Kili looked down at himself and dismissed the thought, staring instead at the closed door. "I'm sure Dori will be in soon."

"I'll check on the progress." Oin grumbled, going through the door into the back area.

For those watching him, a stubborn look in his dark eyes and a firming chin were the only warning. Kili stalked right up to the door and slipped inside.

Alarmed, Elrohir and Bofur both stood. From her place next to a window, the Lady Galadriel turned away from the view outside to stare as well.

The door opened again and a white as a sheet young prince was pushed forceably back outside by a very angry looking Oin. The door slammed shut behind him, making Kili jump slightly. His eyes were saucer wide and his color was returning. Only it was the wrong color.

Green.

Kili rushed for a basin before gagging. Since he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, not much beyond bile and acid made the return trip.

Bofur grimaced even as the door opened once more, revealing Oin who peeked out. The elder dwarf glared again at Kili and grunted, disappearing back inside the healing ward and closing the door firmly behind him.

"That bad?" Bofur handed Kili a cloth as the young wiped his face wearily.

"They ...he ..." Kili shuddered. "Blood."

"Nuluin is in there, he is one of the best healers still in Middle Earth." The Lady of Light sounded reassuring.

Bofur scratched his head, regardless of his thick head covering hat. "Lad. You're a hunter. And a warrior. You've seen far worse I'm sure."

Kili swallowed hard, his eyes still wide with shock. "His hands were ...inside. It's not the same. This is Fili." He gagged again, but managed not to require the basin this time.

Elrohir nodded grimly. "The damage was inside, to the lung."

"Was he glowing?" Bofur asked cautiously, remembering when Tauriel had healed the arrow damage back in Lake Town.

Kili nodded slowly, wincing.

"That's a good sign." Bofur said, hoping it was the truth. "Tauriel glowed when she healed you. Pretty thing."

"The healer calls upon the Light of the Eldar." Galadriel remarked, aiming for reassuring.

Kili's head snapped up. That was what the elves called the thing within him. "You said that light was in me now, right?" When the Lady nodded, he asked the next obvious question. "Can I glow?"

Surprised into a quick smile, Elrohir shook his head. "Maybe one day. With a lot of training."

"Training? Like breathing?" Kili turned to stare at the closed door again. He sighed. "It's taking too long."

"It takes as long as it takes." Elrohir tried to infuse his own voice with confidence. But he hadn't liked the look of the elder prince when they'd arrived at Erebor.

Kili looked around the room, his eyes settling on the Lady of Lorien. "Can't you do anything?" It was a plea.

The Lady Galadriel held out one elegant hand to the son of her daughter's child.

Hesitant, Kili approached her. She didn't drop her hand. The young mixed-blood prince fought not to sigh as he put his hand in hers. She drew him closer, looking out the window.

Uncomfortable in his ugly, plain woolens and without his heavy boots Kili stood there, still. Feeling like an awkward child next to the elegant and graceful female his race considered a witch.

Her hand went to his hair, smoothing it back from his face as he looked out the window and she looked down at him. Her touch was gentle, kind even. He still didn't feel comfortable. She may be family, maybe, but it wasn't as if he knew her. Not really. It took all he had not to flinch away.

"I have no power over life and death. I am not even a healer." Galadriel said so quietly that Kili had to strain to hear. There was a note in her voice, a sadness that he had not expected. "Too many are gone from me."

Kili felt the lump in his throat as he looked up at her face. His voice fell to a mere whisper. "If I go with you, could you do anything?" He made the offer freely, and with his whole heart. For Fili, he'd do just about anything.

Galadriel looked down into his face, her eyes sad and yet strangely loving. "I would not ask that trade of you. I assure you, I hold nothing back that would benefit young Fili. Nuluin is one of the best healers the elves still have in Middle Earth."

Kili nodded, feeling off-center. He believed her. But he'd hoped that she could do **something**. Anything.

_I am here for you. I will always be there for you. But right now you have to be strong for him._

Kili glanced up wildly, his dark hair flopping into his eyes. "It's really eerie when you do that." He admitted to her.

Dori walked in a moment later, carrying a neatly folded pile of clothing. Balin was following right behind him.

"Where did you go to get these?" Kili groused, moving toward them to snatch a dark shirt off the top of the pile. "Gondor?"

The elder crafter and current guild master smiled benignly. "I had to search for something clean. Your room is strewn about with piles of stuff."

Elrohir seemed puzzled by this announcement. "Someone searched his room?"

Bofur chuckled. "Naw. That's just Kili."

Balin ducked his head to hide his own smile.

The healer's door opened and Nuluin moved into the room. Instantly all attention was drawn to him. The elven healer gave a weary smile. "The lung has been repaired and so far is holding well. Provided that we can avoid infection, the young dwarrow will heal soundly."

Sighs of relief, laughter and even a cheer or two filled the room. Elrohir took his first deep breath in what felt like ages. His eyes moved to Galardriel, whose own gaze seemed alight with pleasure.

Knees shaky, Kili sank into the nearest empty seat. His eyes closed with relief. He waited for the general questions to be answered by the healer before looking up. "When can I see my brother?"

Nuluin gave him a chiding look. "You've already seen more than enough."

Kili had the grace to smile apologetically.

The healer relented and nodded. "As soon as he is cleaned up and the wounds finished dressing." He pointed at the shirt that Kili was holding. "You have some dressing to do as well."

Embarrassed, the young dwarf prince drew on his shirt, but otherwise didn't move. He was too happy.

Bofur, grinning like a loon, pointed over at Elrohir. "Maybe now you can fix him up."

The healer frowned, "I thought ..." He looked at the wrapped shoulder in question.

"Naw." Bofur chuckled freely. "His poor hair."

Now Nori laughed outright while even the more polite Dori smiled.

Elrohir gave a soft snort of laughter himself, pulling the trailing edge of his hair out from behind his back. The ends still snarled by tree branches.

Nuluin sighed and shook his head. "Fools." He commented, with no sting in his voice. "Cut the wood to avoid cutting your hair?" He guessed.

Elrohir gave an eloquent shrug without even a hint of apology for his vanity.

Dori gave the elf warrior a sympathetic look. "Hair is important to dwarves as well."

"Apparently my nephew can't even be bothered to fully dry his." The elf pointed out.

Kili grimaced, pushing his long hair behind his ears. It was true, his hair was still damp from where Oin had scrubbed him, checking for any bruises or bumps that might have exacerbated the concussion he'd recieved during the last battle.

"Kili, well, his hair doesn't hold braids well." Dori admitted. Balin nodded in agreement.

Attention snagged, Elrohir looked up to catch his nephew's sudden blush. "No?"

Bofur sighed a bit. "No. Falls out or gets too messy. A dwarf's hair is usually thicker, more wiry. Not coarse really, but Kili's hair now. It's finer."

Galadriel and Elrohir shared a bemused glance. The elf lord drew his own hair forward, letting it sift through his fingers like fine silk.

"See. Me and the lads have been thinking. What if Kili's hair is more like the texture of elves, but wavy like our'n?" Bofur shrugged.

Galadriel sighed gently. Her hair was wavy, but she refrained from commenting on the obvious.

"Possible." Nuluin spoke up. "But not necessarily the reason." He looked at Kili. "May I?" He gestured toward the lad's hair.

The dwarves all stilled for a moment. The elves definitely noticed.

"This is taboo?" Nuluin asked, unsure of the moment.

Nori gave a weak smile. "Not taboo necessarily. But ...very ..."

"Familiar." Dori finished the sentence for his brother. "Intimate."

Galadriel tilted her head a bit. "I touched his hair earlier. No one protested."

"Well, now ...but you be his kin. Yes?" Nori pointed out with a slight wince. He knew Thorin would have his head if he heard any of the dwarves say such a thing. But personally, he just thought his king was in deep denial of the obvious.

"Oin isn't." Elrohir pointed out, not to be difficult but to dig out the reasoning. "He touched Kuilaith's hair to clean it."

Balin gave a small smile, explaining. "Actually, he is. Cousin to King Thorin and all."

Elrohir held up the ends of his hair. "So I could ask Kuilaith to help me with this, but not Dori or Nori?"

The dwarves all smiled, pleased the elf was a quick study. "Aye, but I wouldn't ask Kili. He pulls too hard."

"I do not!" Prostested the youth in question, looking hurt.

"Gets in a hurry, makes a mess of braids. Lopsided they be." Bofur gave a fake whisper.

Kili scowled, clearly unhappy with the turn of the conversation. "New subject. When can I learn how to glow?"

"Grow?" Oin frowned. "Not something you can control, laddie."

Kili gestured for the healer to use his hearing trumpet. Once Oin did, he yelled and made the healer jump. "GLOW!"

Nuluin frowned. "You want to be a healer? You nearly fainted already in there."

Bofur chortled, slapping his thigh heartily.

"No, no. But Elrohir said he'd teach me how to glow after I learn how to breathe." Kili piped up.

The elf in question looked startled and Galadriel's hand went to her mouth to cover her sudden smile. "That is not exactly what I said." Elrohir protested a bit.

Oin sighed. "Now laddie, you're half dwarf and not but a fraction elf. Glowing isn't really dwarven if you get my meaning."

"Fifty percent dwarven." Nuluin said, nodding in agreement. "And thirty-nine percent elven." He pointed at Kili encouragingly. "We might be able to teach you some simple healing techniques, for the field."

Kili brightened considerably.

Balin added it up in his head. "So. Eleven percent is human?"

Nuluin shook his head. "No. Human would be approximately nine and a half percent. Very close."

Dori looked confused. "That leaves another one and a half percent."

"Maiar." Nuluin said off hand.

Stunned and in shock, the dwarves all stared at the healer.

Nuluin looked around and saw that he was the center of attention. "Lord Elrond is ..."

Galadriel drew up sharply with a hiss, seeing the trap before them before anyone else could. But it was no use.

"Descended from Luthien, the daughter of Melian the Maia." Nuluin finished proudly. He appeared puzzled as he caught the arrested look of the Lady of Light.

"So." Dori sighed heavily, looking stunned and not very happy either. "Not just any Maia. But one of Doriath."

Suddenly silence fell over the entire room.

Galadriel, the Lady of Lothlorien, sighed heavily. "Perhaps we can agree that none in this room were responsible, or should be held such."

Bofur looked away, his gaze troubled.

Balin bravely asked the question. "Lady? Were you ever at Doriath?"

The beautiful eyes of Lady Galadriel turned sad, but she answered the question truthfully. "It was in that fair city that I met and married my husband, Celeborn. King Thingol was ...a friend."

Kili looked confused, clearly in the dark. Doriath. A dwarven massacre. But what did that have to do with him having Maia blood? Especially so little of it.

Dori sighed at him. "Did you pay no heed to your lessons from Balin?"

Balin himself looked distressed, but not surprised.

"Perhaps we should take lessons from young Kili instead." Elrohir stood. "This is a healer's ward. Healing is the business here. And before us we have a child uniting both sides of a once great rift. Perhaps it is right that we hold to our memories of lost ones, but let the hatred and distrust go as we become kindred instead."

Balin sighed heavily and looked at the two elves in the room. "This is going to annoy King Thorin excessively."

"Oh?" Galadriel drew up proudly, her eyes flashing.

Balin gave the smallest of smiles. "With just four days before our Durin's Day celebration, we're going to have to seriously reconsider some of our gifts. Being kindred and all now."

Galadriel relaxed a bit, then shook her head. "And he won't be even more annoyed that we have come to a non-formal acccord without his presence?"

"Oh aye. He will." Balin nodded, resigned. "But once he gets over that, then we STILL have to deal with the presents."

Several dwarves laughed and the elves were at least not frowning as a messenger arrived. King Thorin and his group had returned, successful. They were heading up now.

Kili smiled, very relieved when the messenger announced no further injuries. Nothing major.

Elrohir looked at his nephew and sighed. "Kuilaith?"

The youth looked up, still smiling.

"Pants."

Kili shrugged. "It's only uncle." He pointed out, plucking at his long woolens. "I'm wearing a shirt." The dark-eyed prince teased. He was covered decently enough to his mind.

Elrohir's smile turned slightly mischievous. "The whole group might come and check on Fili." He pointed out the obvious.

The dark-haired youngster shrugged again.

"Tauriel." Bofur supplied the name helpfully.

Kili's face fell and he scrambled to dress as quickly as possible, ignoring the laughter around him.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay. The impressive research and math on Kili's bloodlines does NOT belong to me. Thank you Borys68. He did the math to an insanely high degree and I rounded. All mistakes are mine, I assure you. 
> 
> Doriath: Elvish city of old. Dwarves were commissioned to create a very special piece of jewelry by the elves, then became enamored of the thing (the Silmaril) and refused to give it up. The dwarves murdered King Thingol, stole the Silmaril and fled. Most of the dwarves were pursued and killed with the Silmaril recovered by the elves. This grieved Melian the Maia who left Middle Earth, removing her protection from the city. The Dwarves of Nogrod, hearing of the killing of their kin, then came and sacked Doriath and almost completely destroyed it.


	15. In which poor Dain is clueless

Thorin wondered what kind of sight the group would appear. Even a month ago it would have been an incongruous grouping at best. In fact, he himself was still feeling more than a little outlandish in such company.

Dwarves and Elves. Riding together toward a fight. Had such happened since the fighting on the plains of Dagorlad? "The last minor alliance." He muttered.

Beside him Elladan looked over at him, startled.

Thorin raised an eyebrow at the elf warrior, astonished that he'd been overhead over the heavy sounds of their horses and ponies. Elven hearing was eerie. An odd memory or two flashed in his head, comments made in private asides that Kili always seemed to hear and find amusing. Now he knew why.

Holding Elladan's gray-eyed gaze for a meaningful moment, Thorin then looked around at their party. Glorfindel, an ancient elven warrior who'd already died once and re-embodied, who fairly exuded deadly grace as he rode with single-minded determination. Dwalin, Gloin and Bifur. Dwarven warriors, strong and powerful and bristling with the pride of their race as well as a multitude of weaponry. Ori. Dear young Ori, whom even a horrific battle against goblins and wargs couldn't age or tarnish. As yet unbowed, unbroken, and with an unwavering loyal heart.

Then there was Elladan, a warrior and a worried father. Father. Thorin waited for the choking sensation that usually accompanied that word and thought ever since the elves had arrived in Erebor. Surprisingly, it felt muffled this time. Lesser.

Lastly, his eyes went where they'd been reluctant to fall. Tauriel. She of the red-hair, valient heart, lethal blades and bow, as well as unparalleled beauty, at least to the eyes of his younger nephew. Even if she did lack a beard. Thorin grunted. Come to think of it, so did Kili.

Elladan's eyes narrowed on Thorin's sudden smile. "What?" He asked, though the dwarf couldn't hear his voice he could read that word from the lip movement.

"Tauriel and Kili. Perhaps better suited than I once thought. No beard between the two of them." Thorin grimaced.

Elladan's lips jerked in quick amusement, then he shook his head. "Too young." He mouthed.

Thorin nodded. "Agreed." How strange. He and the elf-father, on the same side of things.

The elf raised his voice to be heard. "Perhaps not such a minor alliance after all!"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Sealyn Heavyaxe gave an excited sigh and grinned at her friend, Calbrinia. "Erebor?"

"Erebor." The battle-maiden gave an answering grin. "Dain Ironfoot, Lord of the Iron Hills himself came through here heralding the news!"

A heartfelt sigh was accompanied by a pat on her chest, right over her heart. "My father is excited beyond all reckoning." Sealyn admitted, her hazel eyes alight with anticipation. "When will the Ironfoot be back through to take everyone back to Erebor?"

The question made the beautiful Calbrinia's grin all but disappear. "Well. That's the crux of the matter, now isn't it?"

Sealyn, a lovely dwarrow-maiden just past eighty years, sobered. She pushed her inky dark hair out of her eyes, the short ruff of her well trimmed and crystal-studded beard gleaming. "You have THAT look. The 'I'm planning something' look that spells trouble."

She looked over at the third female in the room, the rather plain looking Brunere from the Grimbasher clan who had the prettiest violet-blue eyes around. Plain in looks she might be, she was known to be intelligent and kind. It didn't hurt that her father was a well respected mining engineer who was known to have 'the touch' in finding rare ores.

As single dwarrow-maidens, none had been lacking in suitors. Childhood companions and friendly rivals each of them. Even though not one of them had decided they were 'in love' yet. The three represented 3/4ths of the available un-married female population for the dwarves in nearly fifty miles. Needless to say, while capable and practical they knew their worth. Not spoiled, but definitely self-confident and self-aware.

"No." Calbrinia denied with a small smirk. "Just. We have new choices."

Brunere waved a hand at the warrior-maiden. "How?" She asked, now curious.

Calbrinia held up three fingers, counting off her points as she made them. "We can head to Erebor in the spring. Spring brings better travel conditions. We'd be able to pack and plan with time to spare, good protection."

Sealyn nodded in acknowledgement. "Choice one." Her voice leading off to invite her friend to continue.

"Or. We can quickly be ready to leave and go back with Dain Ironfoot. He has a band of several warriors and we'll be among the first single females in Erebor." Calbrinia added.

"A single King. Two single princes. And nearly five-hundred dwarrows to meet and choose from." Brunere smiled close lipped. "Choice two sounds good to me. Better odds for meeting someone we could fall in love with, be our other half. I know my father has been making noises about just 'choosing someone', but I am not getting married without love."

Calbrinia took a deep breath. Here it was. She smiled encouragingly at her friendly rivals. "Or ... choice three. You two could gather a band of guards, take Erelinde and several important loads of supplies and crafters, and head to Erebor at all speed. Now. Really be the first potential dwarrowdams to enter the Lonely Mountain in a century."

Silence and stunned looks. Brunere's mouth was even hanging open a bit.

Sealyn finally gave a weak shrug of her shoulders, clear hazel eyes showing her confusion. "We two? Not you?"

"With Erelinde?" Brunere finished for them both. "Are you crazy? Or do you think we are?"

Erelinde. At only seventy-six she was the youngest of the maidens, and by every measure and by any race of Middle Earth, the loveliest. Inside and out.

Six years ago the Stormrune daughter and only child had become of age and all male attention had swung hopefully in her direction for a while. And her rather shy statement that she wasn't looking to marry hadn't deterred many, until she'd proven her point and ignored all potential suitors.

Calbrinia made a face of consterantion and held up her hands to call for quiet. "Hear me out."

The two other dwarven females sighed uneasily, but nodded for her to continue.

The warrior-maiden took a deep breath. "Take Erelinde with you to Erebor. What can it hurt? Truly." She pointed a finger at Sealyn to shut up before she could interrupt. "Erelinde is a crafter, well on her way to a mastery at an unheard of age. She has no interest in mating, marrying, or anything but her craft."

"Doesn't stop the interest in her." Muttered Brunere. "I really, really want to dislike her. But she's too sweet for words."

Sealyn nodded thoughtfully. "I know."

"So take her to Erebor. The quicker she turns away all suitors, the better for you two. She'll be the instant magnet, you'll be the recipients. And better? If she does fall in love and marry, then that's only ONE dwarrow gone out of how many there? Either way, if she chooses craft or marriage there will be plenty of eligible dwarrow to meet." Calbrinia spread her hands as if presenting an award. "A king, two princes, and five hundred of our race's fiercest warriors."

"So." Sealyn shot an incredulous look at Brunere. "Even if Erelinde actually looks up from her craft work long enough to find a mate, our chances of finding lasting and true love does increase." Considering the suitors they currently already knew, and were not in love with, the idea was tempting.

Unlike Erelinde, these three dwarrow-maidens wanted to fall in love and marry. But given that their race only married for love, and only married once, they were bound to be careful in the choosing.

Sealyn sighed and ran a hand over her smooth dark braids. "What about you? Where will you be?"

"Travelling with the Ironfoot." Calbrinia answered very truthfully. "Here's the heart of the matter. I don't want a king, two princes, or five hundred warriors." She smiled nervously at her friends.

Brunere sat up, suddenly interested. "You have met your other half?" She asked cautiously eager, speculation sparking in her gaze. "Truly?"

Calbrinia blushed a bit and shrugged. "He says he wants to introduce me to the crown prince. I just have to make him realize that no ...he doesn't either. I have to get him to see me, for himself."

"The Ironfoot?" Sealyn sounded awed as she made the connection. "He's ..." She eyed her friend's military inspired clothing that she used to practice her blade work. "Older than you."

Calbrinia smiled and gave a happy smile as she thought of the Iron Hills warrior. "Experienced, responsible, trustworthy, proven leader ..."

"Handsome?" Brunere asked eagerly.

"In my eyes, there is none better." Calbrinia smiled, knowing the three friends sometimes found different males attractive for differing reasons. While Dain Ironfoot wasn't classicaly handsome, he was a warrior bred, and that appealed mightily to her. "He's very strong."

Sealyn stood, giving her friend an encouraging look. "Well then ... perhaps ... are you sure? They'll be younger dwarrow warriors in Erebor." She pointed out.

"I don't want them." The maiden-warrior grinned. "I can't help that my heart leaps when he speaks, or even looks in my direction."

Brunere looked awed. "You're in love?!"

"I'm not in love." Calbrinia hitched up one corner of her mouth becomingly. "But I feel there's good potential there for falling in love. Very good. Not that I mind the thought of meeting more dwarrow, even a prince or two."

"But?" Brunere encouraged.

"But ...I have a feeling." Calbrinia shrugged helplessly, not sure she could explain it better than that. "My mother said she got a feeling when she met da."

Sealyn sighed happily. "I want a feeling like that." She said more than half-jealously.

Brunere nodded and then shook her head. "But really? Do we have to take Erelinde with us?"

Sealyn beat Calbrinia in answering that question. "Yes. Because our friend wants Erelinde safely in Erebor snagging the attention of a king, two princes, and several hundred dwarrow warriors. And definitely NOT meeting the Ironfoot."

Brunere's mouth fell open and she giggled. "Oh dear, I hadn't thought of that!"

Calbrinia had the grace to apologize a bit sheepishly. "I don't think she's his type of female. But ..."

"No chances!" Brunere stood up next to her friends. "Okay. First, we need to convince our parents we need to travel to Erebor at all speed. This week!"

Sealyn rolled her eyes and grinned. "Not hard, they're dying to get us to choose husbands. And our father's are delighted about the news from Erebor."

Brunere grinned and winked at her friends. "The hard part? The only hard part?"

Calbrinia took a deep breath and nodded. "Convincing Erelinde to put down her bobbins and crafting work long enough to travel to Erebor."

Brunere's excitement dimmed. "She won't want to go."

Sealyn grinned suddenly. "No. No. It's fine. Trust me. It's not Erelinde we have to convince!"

"Yes it is." Brunere looked confused. "She's of her majority, free to make her own decisions."

Sealyn shook her head and smiled. "Trust me."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Which way?" The question was asked, but non-verbally and only the dwarves recognized the hand sign that Gloin sent his king.

Thorin frowned sharply, just ahead was the area where his nephew's horses had perished. It made him more than a little uneasy to think about, especially the one mount which had been struck by the Morgal shaft. His ears still felt like they could hear the echoes of panic and pain.

Shying away from painful thoughts of his treatment of Kili, the king turned to Glorfindel. "Did Elrohir tell you from which direction the arrows flew?"

The golden-haired warrior of old nodded, his expression grimly set. "Small bluff on the other shore of the river mouth."

Dwalin made a circle with his fingers. More of the sign language peculiar to the dwarves, and accompanying part of Khuzdul. At the same time Elladan looked to Thorin. "Circle around?"

Glorfindel looked back and forth between the tattooed, muscular warrior and the lithe elven lord. "We agree then." He turned without further word, following some unseen trial that the dwarves couldn't see nor sense.

Ori turned to Tauriel, his eyes showing his confusion. "How does he know the way?"

The red-head kicked her mount forward. "The trees tell us the way."

Ori looked at Dwalin, who shrugged. Ori then looked at Gloin. "Did she mean that literally? Like with a voice?" The ginger-bearded dwarf shrugged too.

Thorin passed Ori and cocked his head in the direction of the departing elves. "The trees are telling me to get your ass moving. Come on."

Bifur grunted in agreement, his eyes moving steadily about the area.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fergard Stormrune stared at the three dwarf-maidens in his house. He scratched his dust covered tunic, a small cloud of fine stone turned to waste product puffed into the air. He hadn't even had time to remove his boots.

He was standing on his porch, looking at the three pretty females through the window wondering if there was time to escape before they noticed him.

No.

One spied him and smiled brightly, pointing and clearly saying something to the other two. Fergard groaned. He was dirty and tired and feeling guilty. He thought about turning tail, but his ancestors would have burst out of the Halls of Waiting and beaten him to a pulp for running from such as these.

Fergard snorted. His ancestors didn't know them like he did. He ran a tired hand through his black beard only starting to show streaks of gray. Not that he was old, but that he was a single father. To one much as they.

Erelinde. Despite his successes as a miner, she was his only true treasure. One making him old before his time.

His front door burst open and the three maids surrounded him, smiling terribly sweetly. Fergard was instantly suspicious. "What?" He asked them gruffly.

Calbrinia smiled at him charmingly. "Such a warm welcome."

Fergard sighed uneasily, wondering what they were up to.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

There was no direct access to the bluff below them without going at least an hour more out of the way.

Bifur pointed out the cliff face, and shook his head. His unintelligible words coming too fast to catch. Dwalin and Gloin both nodded.

"The horses won't make it, but we can climb down." Tauriel looked over the edge, calculating.

"Wrong kind of rock." Grunted Thorin. "We'd break our fool necks trying." The cliff face only looked like solid rock, most likely it would crumble at the first touch.

Gloin and Dwalin unslung their great axes as the elves watched.

"We don't have time to build a ladder." Elladan shook his head. "Perhaps rope? We elves are lighter and can scale that cliff."

In the time it took to make that suggestion, both Gloin and Dwalin had each struck a tree as round as Bombur. Three strikes between them. Without consulting each other, the tree fell in a precise manner.

Glorfindel's eyebrows shot up as the duo, now adding Bifur, lifted the newly cut end of the tree and pushed it straight off the edge. The tree's leaves scattered as they'd been preparing to fall for winter anyway. The top of the tree came to rest down on the floor of the bluff, while the top was leaning against the cliff face. A rustic bridge of sorts.

Elladan blinked and seemed surprised. "Very precise." He complimented.

"Ori, Tauriel, stay with the horses." Thorin commanded.

The red-head Silvan elf's green eyes widened but didn't ask for an explanation about why the command. Or why the Dwarven ruler thought he could give her an order in the first place.

She eyed the dwarven king as he turned away from her, all regal and sure of stride. There was some resemblence to his nephews. Fili seemed to have the arrogance and confidence. While Kili had that sense of grace and surety of movement. And the glower. Tauriel smiled at the thought. For a dwarf more used to laughter, when his face set into that angry look he was more than a match for his uncle.

An image of Kili, hurt and dying in Lake Town, rose up in her memory unbidden. Tauriel turned away, busying herself with the horses. But the memory would not desert her. She could see him in her mind, asking a very important question that she had yet to answer. She wasn't even sure if he remembered what he'd asked her, being so feverish and all. And she was afraid to ask him.

Thorin barked out a few more orders and Tauriel turned her green eyes back on him. Not the tallest. Not the strongest. Yet somehow he was definitely the one in charge. Hmmm. Dwarves. Even with the discovery that Kili was part Elven, it did not negate the fact that if she continued to have a friendship with him ...she would have to deal with dwarves. And Thorin was not only the king, but Kili's uncle.

Friendship. The red-head took charge of the horses and ponies as Ori made quick work of securing them as she brought them over. Was it only friendship she felt for the dark-eyed prince? Only time would tell. He definitely intrigued her, called to something deep within her. Given time together, she instinctively knew, they would become more. Maybe. The red-head frowned, scanning the area, calling herself a fool to get so lost in thought out here.

"Do a better job with the horses than my nephews did." Thorin pointed at the two of them before taking his turn walking down the fallen tree trunk to the bluff below.

Tauriel huffed. "The horses were shot with arrows from ambush, nothing Fili or Kili could have done to prevent ..."

Ori chuckled. "Not those horses. The ponies on our trek out here to the Mountain. I'll tell you later."

The she-elf looked over at the young dwarf and smiled. She and many other elves had been raised to think that Dwarves were all greedy, dishonorable, and rather dumb. All the same. Since they arrived in Mirkwood, her knowledge and beliefs had all crumbled.

Suddenly, she paused. "Ori? What do dwarves generally think of when it comes to elves. What characteristics come to mind?"

Ori's full face blush told it's own tale, even when he closed his mouth and shook his head, refusing to answer.

Tauriel nodded carefully. "My thoughts on dwarves have been proven completely wrongful."

The young dwarf sighed and shrugged, his color still high. "You're nothing like I was told." He peeked at her and decided to go bold. "Do you find you like dwarves?" A brief hesitation, and then he went even further. "Do you like Kili?"

The she-elf nodded and then smiled, knowing she was clouding the waters. "I like several of the dwarves now. You included."

Ori's blush returned in full force. He knew that she was aware of what his question truly had been, just as he knew she'd avoided answering. Still. She hadn't said no.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Are you sure'n this is a good idea?" The leader of the Grimbasher clan sighed heavily. "Going to Erebor is fine and all. Brilliant. Can't wait. Only ...I want to wait. Let a group of us gather first, with the Ironfoot leading us."

Fergard shook his head. "We have supplies. Coal, charcoal, copper, and many other minor ores. Critical supplies to get the mines in Erebor up and running again. That mountain doesn't hold coal or copper, but it's going to need them."

Sigan sighed heavily. "Giving away good trade."

"No." Fergard spoke up, his voice a bit harsh. "Not giving away. Building up OUR home. Payment perhaps for not signing on with Thorin's Company. King Thorin, King Under the Mountain."

Those words rang through the small group of miners and traders, dwarves all. Pride swelled many a chest as hope filled every eye. But caution still reigned. "We can still wait for the Ironfoot."

"Why?" Another miner spoke up, young and eager. "The Ironfoot is grand and all, but he didn't face down the dragon by all reports. It is us that didn't sign on with the king, and if we want a place in Erebor it is only right that we bring something to the table."

"Skills, goods, ore, supplies ...strong hands and hearts." The Grimbasher nodded thoughtfully. "I thought Thorin on a suicide mission, thought him crazed for taking his heirs with him. I ...was wrong."

Strong words coming from a dwarf.

"I did not go because of my child. I can not name myself wrong for that, but I do feel that there is something I owe the King." Fergard spoke up next.

Several of the dwarves nodded. They knew about Erelinde.

"She still caught up in her work?" One miner asked hesitantly, and obviously hoping that she might have changed her mind about courting.

Fergard nodded and recieved several sympathetic and disappointed looks. "I could not leave her here alone, unattended, adult though she be. But I looked to protect my daughter then, and I look to protect her now. Take her to Erebor. Ensconce her with the other crafters, she'll be well protected there."

No one mentioned how Fergard had lost his wife and infant son to bandit raids that had swept the area years ago.

"I didn't go to Erebor when Thorin called in order to protect her. It is for the same reason that I say we should go now." Fergard looked at the others. "We could wait for the Ironfoot, yes. But we have more to offer than most. Take our trades, our skills, our hands, and our goods. They'll be needed and welcome."

"Making us welcome?" One of the younger dwarves asked, unsure.

"Yes." Fergard nodded without hesitation. Or at least, without hesitation that could be seen.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The trampled grasses, even autumn-wilted and scrubby, told their tale clearly to those able to read the signs. The orcs were gone already. Looking over the area, Glorfindel placed the leaving of their enemies at well over two hours ago.

"Five orcs." Elladan stated grimly, running his hand whisper light over the tips of the sparse grasses rising to ankle height on the tall elf.

Thorin grimaced, the grasses coming up higher on him. Ruthlessly he kept a watchful eye on the area, though not able to read it as well as the elf, he could see the direction the orcs had taken.

"We can catch them." Glorfindel eyed the area, making the offer deliberately in Elvish.

Elladan frowned sharply. The golden-haired elf lord was entirely right. Riding hard and fast, on well trained horses instead of ponies, the elves could catch up to the orcs. But the dwarves, unused to riding at such speeds, and not the best riders in the first place, could not. Three elves. Five orcs. No contest, they would win. If the orcs weren't riding into reinforcements, and if there were not any traps set, or warg patrols, or ...many other possible complications. Gently he shook his head and answered in the Common tongue. "No."

Much as he hated letting them go, it wasn't smart to split up like that. Not with so many unknowns. Besides. There was still a fight to be had here, considering what the grasses of the bluff were telling him.

Glorfindel bowed his head in compliance, and perhaps looking pleased? Elladan put that thought away for later.

Thorin eyed the elves, trying not to look suspicious.

Elladan shook his head at him and stood up straight. "Five left, but seventeen arrived. There are no bodies, so ..."

Bifur pointed, speaking words that no one understood clearly. They followed the line of his finger and saw the shadow of the small cave.

Dwalin grunted. "Twelve orcs in a cave. They'll know we're out here. Blade or rock?"

Thorin looked up at the crumbling cliff face. "Collapsing this rock pile on the entrance won't be a sure death. We don't know whether the cavern tunnels or not. And with this kind of rock, digging out won't be impossible."

"Blades then." Gloin expertly twirled his hand axes, their weights perfectly balanced. "Good then."

Elladan stepped forward, drawing to a stop when Thorin held up a hand. "Smoke them out. I don't want ours going in. This rock face is unstable."

Ours. Glorfindel's eyebrows rose at the term, wondering at Thorin including the elves in his statement. "This grass is really dry." He commented.

Bifur was already hacking pieces of the fallen tree they'd used as a bridge. The wood was green, so it would smoke all the better. While Gloin mowed down some of the tall grass with his axes, grumbling how his blades craved bloodier fare than kindling.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fergard sighed, returning home very late. Very late indeed. Tired, but satisfied. That satisfaction grew as he entered the kitchen, smelling something good cooking.

Erelinde stood framed in the light of the cooking hearth. Her white blonde hair curling becomingly around her sweet face. Her braids, while probably neat this morning, had slid clear of the restraining pins and hung down her back. It should have given his child a disheveled look, but it only managed to add to her charming appearance.

Sky blue eyes turned toward him guiltily. Erelinde straightened up and gave him a warm smile. "I forgot to make dinner 'adad. Again. I'm so sorry!"

"Did you finish your piece?" Fergard asked, already knowing the answer. His daughter wouldn't have remembered to eat, or to cook, unless she'd finished the craftwork.

Blushing pinkly, Erelinde nodded at him.

"Well on your way to gaining Mastery." He sighed, proud and yet saddened at the same time.

"Oh no, I'm too young for that." The pretty young maiden looked truly surprised. She never seemed to realize how good her work was considered.

Fergard slid through the kitchen, finding bowls for the stew she was making. "Daughter? Don't start a new piece."

"Oh 'adad, I won't until tomorrow. I promise I'll sleep tonight." Erelinde smiled at him fondly. "I mean it."

How many times had the single parent heard that phrase? Fergard gave her a rueful smile. And she meant her words. Every time. Even when an idea struck her in the middle of the night and she started crafting with little to no rest.

"We start packing tomorrow. We're leaving by the end of the week." He said gruffly, setting the bowls on the table as his daughter poured the ale for supper.

"Trading business?" Erelinde fought the yawn, but lost as her jaw fairly creaked with weariness.

A worried looked crossed her father's face as he watched her serve up their dinner.

Dwarves prided themselves in their crafts, their skills, their accomplishments. Becoming a Master was a matter of great and grand celebration and pride within a family. And many dwarves, male and female alike could lose themselves in their crafts so completely that they had no interest in marrying or making a family. A common enough occurance for their race.

But once in a while there was a True-Master. A level above. When the dwarf became so consumed by their creative processes that they did not eat, sleep, or function without assistance. It was his harshest worry that his beloved child was turning into one of these.

Still, she wasn't at that point yet. And Fergard truly hoped that she would never become so blinded by her work that she stopped seeing the world around her, or those in it. Including him.

Once, long ago, in Erebor alone there had been seven such True-Masters right before the dragon came. None had survived Smaug's attack. Most weren't truly sure if those seven had even noticed the attack right up until death took them straight to the Halls of Waiting. A fate he'd keep from his only child in any way that he could.

"Father?"

Shaken out of his morbid thoughts, Fergard gave her as big a smile as he could manage. "No, not for trade. Erebor."

Startled, Erelinde merely blinked her blue eyes, it took her a moment before she frowned.

"I told you, news has come. The dragon is dead." He swallowed his fears, trying to be patient. Marry or not. Have dwarflings or not. Become a Master, but don't leave the world behind.

"Oh!" Erelinde suddenly gave him a self depreciating smile. "I remember you telling me." Her father sighed with relief. "I just ... why would we go there now? Winter is coming."

"Yes, yes." Fergard took an easy breath. She'd remembered the conversation, and to cook dinner. Late. But she had recalled. "But we are to take to the King Under the Mountain supplies that will be much needed this winter. And I can not leave you behind."

Erelinde tilted her head slightly, looking like an adorably curious little kitten as she gave him a shy smile. "You want me to meet more dwarrow." She guessed.

Not a hint of deceit or hidden agendas with this child. Fergard held up his hands. "Feed me, daughter. And I will admit the truth."

Laughing, Erelinde handed him a spoon and pulled out a loaf of crusty bread. She frowned at it. "When did I bake last?"

Fergard coughed and shook his head. "I made that yesterday."

"Oh 'adad." She frowned sadly. "I take poor care of you."

The mining engineer smiled sadly, not negating her mistaken belief that it was she taking care of him and not the other way around. "I am needed in the mines at Erebor, to get them up and running. They need supplies. And there are large crafting halls within the mountain." He said deliberately.

"Crafting halls?" His lovely child's head popped up in sudden interest.

"Small and large looms. Huge ones. Spinning wheels of all sizes and shapes. Some for threads, some for yarns, and some ...for silver and gold threads." He sent her a speculative look. As he'd designed, her eyes were shining as she thought about the possibilities. "Imagine what you could make in Erebor."

And how safe she'd be in a mountain, surrounded by dwarves, and not out above ground where raiding parties seemed to grow bolder every year.

Fergard mentally started organizing the trip in his mind.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Their only injury was a singed sleeve from a stray spark. Glorfindel poked a the injured silk with a true frown.

As for the twelve goblins? The torches of dry grass and green wood had filled the cavern with thick smoke, forcing their foes out into the sunlight. Even goblins had to breathe air.

They died for that need.

Thorin frowned down at the party of dead goblins. "Burn them." He ordered unhappily, wondering at their business so close to Erebor. "Spies."

Elladan nodded thoughtfully. "You are correct. They spy on us, on you. I think their attack today was happenstance. A target of convenience."

Thorin grunted, gesturing for Dwalin. "Double the patrols. Vary the rotation. No more mistakes like today."

The bald and tattooed warrior bowed his proud head to his king. "Do we ride after the orcs that left the area?"

Reluctantly, Thorin declined. "No. We need a sweep of this area first. Ensure no further encroachment toward Erebor." He didn't mention that he wanted to get back and check on Fili's condition.

Elladan started to move away, but Thorin stepped into his path. Sapphire blue eyes bored into the elf's gray-eyed gaze. "You could have caught up with the orcs on your horses."

The elf did not deny it. "We do not know if the area is clear, of if the orcs had reinforcements."

Thorin nodded, agreeing with that assessment. The king wanted to say thank you for the the support today, even if it hadn't been needed. But those words to an elf were impossible to say. Much less to THIS particular elf. Instread, the dwarf grunted and moved out of the way.

Elladan pondered over the strange expression lurking in the blue depths of Thorin's watchful looks. What the dwarf was thinking, he could not read.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Calbrinia flopped back onto her bed, exhausted. And excited.

Fergard would be leading a group to Erebor. Taking three of the only four unmarried female dwarvews with him. Leaving only she.

For Dain. The Ironfoot. She grnned up at the ceiling. "He's mine." She whispered, hoping with all her heart that her wish would come true.

Calbrinia was a fighter, a dwarven warrior and good with a multitude of weapons. Strong of arm and spirit. Yet, when she'd walked into her father's study and seen THE Ironfoot? She'd felt as weak as a lamb.

A lamb. The dwarf-maid smiled. "Are you a wolf, my Lord Ironfoot?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Miles away, Dain Ironfoot sneezed.

Hinnin the elf warrior, looked up at his companion sitting across from him, the camp fire between the two.

Dain twitched his nose, catching the elf's look. He shrugged. "Dust in the air. I promise I'm not ill."

The elf nodded slowly then tilted his head slightly to the left. "A single sneeze means someone is thinking about you."

"Elvish nonsense." Dain shook his head. "A sneeze means to 'dig here' for a good lode filled with fine ores."

Hinnin smiled slightly. "I thought you said the ground here was colorless?" A dwarven euphemism for waste rock without ore.

Dain Ironfoot grimaced. "Perhaps, but that doesn't mean someone is thinking about me just because some particle of dust decided to strike my nose."

Undeterred, the elf shrugged. "But it could."

Dain sighed and shook his head over the superstitiousness of elves.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not forgotten Kili and Fili, I promise! Lots more of them in the next chapter!


	16. In which Kili takes offense

"This is a healing hall, not a conference room." Thanduil's healer looked from person to person. None moved. Few even blinked. They looked at the healer, and then resumed speaking as if nothing had been said.

The elf healer from Mirkwood, not used to being so ignored, looked lost. He turned and watched the eldest of the healers, the one who'd been here since the Battle for the mountian.

Nuluin, the healer who'd arrived with the Rivendell contingent, had little advice to offer. Gently he murmured for the other healers not to push the matter. He then gave the smallest of smiles as he turned and tweaked the sheet up over the slumbering Fili. Deftly he checked the young dwarrow's pulse, frowning. It was a bit fast.

Or was it? Did he have such a baseline? It was a bad oversight. He eyed Kuilaith sitting quietly beside his older brother's bed, holding his limp hand between both of his. No. That one had mixed blood, it would not be a valid comparison.

Turning, the healer eyed the other dwarves in the room. King Thorin looked like a thunderstorm about to break, and was discussing matters of defense. No. The large bald headed and tattooed dwarf? No. He was leaning against the wall, muscular arms crossed and with his eyes closed, listening.

"What do you need?" Tauriel asked, having watched the healer closely.

Nuluin spoke quietly, so as not to interrupt. "I am unsure of dwarven physiology. I need to see if Fili's heart is beating too fast, but I need something to compare my results with. I need to check the pulse of another similar dwarf."

Apparently he hadn't spoken low enough. Several sets of eyes turned toward him.

Typically, Kili was the first to volunteer. "He's my brother."

"No." Balin shook his head before the healer could refuse the lad. "You are not ...well, let me do it."

Not fully Dwarven. Kili's mouth tightened in denial and anger, but he sank back into his seat with resignation.

Thorin firmed his mouth, then grunted. "No. It should be someone closer to Fili's age. Ori?"

The young dwarf stepped up, eager to be of assistance. Nuluin drew him aside thankfully and made quick work of what was needed. When he looked up, all eyes were still on him. The Rivendell healer bowed slightly. "Dwarven hearts beat strongly, and faster than what I might be used to finding. It is a goodly sign for young Fili. Not a bad one."

Subtle signs of relaxing within the room.

Thranduil's healer looked around again, seeming a bit flustered. "There are too many people in the room. The patient needs rest." He paused, and sighed. No one had yet moved. "Typically only family would be allowed to visit."

Glorfindel spoke up from where he was lounging in a seat, the picture of relaxed ease and almost laziness. "Now that's just discrimination. And would only rid you of myself and Tauriel. Hardly the room clearing maneuver you were hoping for."

Thranduil's healer looked shocked, glancing around the rather over full room. "All of you are family?"

Glorfindel yawned with the redolent grace that spoke of his long years. "Elladan is Fili's second-father."

"The Nute'adad." Balin said, caution in his tone, watching to see if this lit the fuse to Thorin's already simmering temper.

But the King Under the Mountain didn't explode precisely. His face did redden alarmingly, but when he spoke, his voice was at least controlled. "If you accepted Fili as your son in a binding ceremony, why did you allow my sister to leave with him?" It was not quite an accusation, but it came close.

Elladan looked down at the still sleeping Fili and frowned sharply. It hurt his heart to see someone so vital and alive looking so gray of face. Finally he looked up at Thorin. His face more open than usual, raw in the face of the day's emotional turmoil. "When Dis left me and our home, there was a note. She apologized for things not working out. Stated it was not my fault. Then she said most specifically, that she was leaving ...with nothing of mine. Nothing that belonged to me."

Without collusion, all eyes automatically turned to Fili. Except for Thorin, who was the only one watching the elven father and saw the pain written there in his face. Uncomfortable, Thorin grunted and turned away.

Kili felt his brother's hand tighten slightly in his, but when he looked, Fili's eyes were still shut. Someone groaned in the room, but he didn't look to find out who. "Brother?" He called roughly, getting no response.

"Was I to chase down a female to make her stay married to me against her will? Take a four year old proud dwarrow from his mother?" Elladan shrugged helplessly. "I thought, at the time, the I was right in letting them go. It was also self-serving. I will admit that having recently lost someone I loved with all my heart, that while Fili was a joy ...I was also far too aware of his mortality. I didn't have enough heart left in me to lose yet another. By letting them go, it wasn't the same as watching them age and pass on. It was the act of a coward."

Kili looked up, stricken by the notes of grief in his father's voice. Part of him wanted to scream that he was mortal too! For the first time since learning of his parentage, he wondered how it felt from the other side of things. Elladan turned and Kili caught sight of his gray eyes. Suddenly, he froze.

Elladan knew that his son and second-son were both mortal. And it was fair to killing him. Kili swallowed hard, achingly feeling selfish for being so happy that he was mortal after all.

"Fili isn't at fault. Nor am I." Kili whispered, his dark eyes wide with stress. "We're not trying to hurt anyone." His voice held the edges of panic.

Thorin and Elladan shared a quick look of alarm. The king cleared his thoat. But it was a loud sigh from Bofur that cleared the subject away, turning the moment from more dangerous ground. "Well, then. If only family is allowed in here it means that me'n Bifur would need to leave as well. Bombur too, except he's down in the kitchens making a restorative soup for Kili and Elladan. From being dunked in the river like that."

The elf lord currently wrapped in bandages looked a little startled to be included in the dwarf's generousity. Although glad for the turn in subject matter. "That sounds comforting. And warm."

Thorin made a small move, and yet all attention swung to the king. "I need all here for this discussion." He sighed, looking over at Nuluin. "Quiet would be better for healing?"

The healer bowed his head.

The King Under the Mountain stood. He looked around the group. Elladan looked as reluctant to leave Fili as he himself felt. Thorin sighed. It wasn't doing his temper any good to feel sorry for the elf lord. What kind of decision would he have made in such a situation?

Thorin grunted. Probably the wrong one. He himself had made plenty of those recently. "There's enough guilt to drown the entire mountain. In the meantime, we have discussions to continue in order to protect everyone. I need all." He paused, then considered the group carefully. "Lady?"

The Lady of Light looked toward the dwarvish king. He had no authority to order her about. "Would you join us?"

Galadriel nodded her head gracefully, moving to join the king.

Thorin looked at the rest of the gathering. Kili was in no shape to attend, and prying him from his brother's side would take more effort than he was willing to expend. His eyes fell on the elf sitting beside the sick bed and sighed. Without examining his motives too closely, Thorin sighed. "Elrohir and Kili can stay here."

The elves stilled, knowing this was a big moment for the dwarven king. Expectations were for Kili to want to stay with his brother, have a chance to calm himself. Allowing Elrohir to stay with the young siblings was surprisingly refreshing.

Elladan nodded his head slowly. "Thank you." He knew a gift when it was offered.

Movement to the side showed that the Lady of Lorien was looking pleased, and the look she was giving to Thorin was one of relief. Embarrassed, Thorin denied he'd done anything out of the ordinary. "They both have been through much today, and need healing. Besides. Bombur will be difficult to tolerate if his restorative soup goes unheeded."

"Of course." Elladan allowed the comment to pass unchallenged. He looked at his twin. "I will be back later to aid you with your hair."

Without missing a beat, Elrohir shook his head. "I was going to ask Kili to help with my hair."

The dwarves, in the process of rising and with some already halfway to the door, stilled. A few shared looks. Elrohir waited, seeing who would protest.

Kili looked absolutely stunned and hunched his shoulders a bit.

Thorin forced his jaw to unclench. Give an elf an inch and he steals an heir. His blue-eyed gaze fell on his younger nephew. Kili's dark melting eyes looked at him, clearly unsure. Thorin stopped the denial on his lips. Kili shouldn't have to look so torn. "He pulls overmuch when in a hurry, but I'm sure he'll do a fine job."

The other dwarves were suddenly in motion again, moving toward the exit with heads ducked. No one meeting anyone else's eyes as they each struggled with the implications of such an intimate act so full of meaning.

Glorfindel seemed the only one unaffected. That ancient warrior grinned. "If you end up having to hack the branches loose, never mind. I'll do the same to your father so they can stay twins." With that he strode right out of the door, golden head held high and with his nose in the air. Only the humor shining from his bright eyes gave him away.

Balin gave a snort of laughter, quickly followed by Bofur and Dwalin. Elladan sighed dramatically loud for effect. Even Thorin's frown lightened a little bit.

Ori actually looked a bit concerned. "He wouldn't actually do that, would he?"

Elladan and Elrohir shared a quick look and a secretive smile. "Oh. He would. He really would." The twins took turns in saying.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elladan. Maybe. Or something close to sounding like that. The dwarven elders around Ered Luin were mentally running through the lists upon lists of ancestors they each had memorized.

The lore keepers shrugged. No, they didn't know who the elders were asking about.

Donnel, Dinerr, Edigarrin, Elsok, Allawin. Name after name was asked and rejected. Someone had even had the cheek to go ask Elder Algeran if it could have been him, despite the fact that Algeran had a wife and three sons of his own all older than Dis herself.

The elders conferred and agreed, they'd heard the name wrong. Or Dis was leading them on. Something. Elladan simply didn't even sound dwarven in the first place.

Ered Luin was in a tizzy. Dwarves were packing up. Men who'd looked down on the dwarves were upset about losing business, workers and goods. Everything was in motion. Emotions were running high and nothing seemed to stand still.

Except Dis.

Dis, daughter of Thrain, packed slowly. Organizing everything. She was leaving nothing behind that mattered. And she was taking her time. No one observing her could see her heart breaking, nor could they begin to guess at why.

Plates and dishes stayed behind. Books were sold or packed. Thorin's things, even unknown little forged gizmos that she had no idea what purpose they had, got packed. Her son's rooms were empty. Nothing remained.

Nehili's fiddle was what was wrapped with the most care. The one she'd always meant to gift to Fili when the time was right.

Ahriline knocked on the door, watching as Dis stood touching the carefully packed box. She cleared her throat gently.

Dis looked up, blinking tiredly. "They're here?"

"Nay." Ahriline smiled gently, her dark blond hair neatly but simply braided. Her husband Gloin was the far more vain of the two of them. "But if they don't arrive soon I'm afraid that Gimli will start suffering some stress related illness."

"An eager and brave lad." Dis commented with true fondness. "Is he still angry over not being allowed to go on the quest?"

"Yes." The dwarrowdam said, then smiled with a chuckle.

Dis answered her smile for smile, though hers lacked in brightness.

Ahriline sobered. "My husband is your cousin, not I."

Startled, Dis lost her smile. "You have something unpleasant to share?" She guessed.

"There is talk amoung the dwarrow-kind. Asking about a name." Her look was pointed. "I won't ask. I just want you to know."

Dis' smile returned a bit. "I understand, and you are family if not by birth. Then by our sharing raising our sons together. No one can understand but a mother when their loved ones fling themselves into danger without thought or regard."

Ahriline shivered, but nodded. "We are dwarves. It is how we were made."

"Bravely doing what needs to be done no matter the cost." Dis frowned. "The name is Elladan."

The other dwarrowdam's fingers tightened on her cloak. "Kili's father?" She shook her head, taking a step back. "I will say nothing."

"Not even to ask the line?" Dis teased with a sorrowful laugh. "You'd be the only one not to ask."

Hesitantly Ahriline paused, then shook her head again. Carefully she licked her lips. "Do you need assistance?"

Surprised, Dis thought the question over. "Probably." She allowed. "But I don't know that any could do any help. Some decisions can not be remade."

"We all live with regrets." The mother of Gimli replied as gently as possible.

Dis looked up, her blue eyes clear and steady. "I have no regrets. None. To regret anything would be a wrong to my son. Kili has been nothing but a joy to his mother's heart. My sons are my life's blood."

Ahriline smiled wanly. "Now there's the Dis I know. Come. Is there anything left to pack?"

"Very little." Admitted Dis. Then she looked sideways at the other dwarrowdam. "I won't ask you not to think less of me when the truth comes out."

"Perhaps it won't come out."

Dis snorted. "I'm afraid it's too late for that. Dain's message was a direct warning."

Ahriline snorted. "Dain's message has been read over a thousand times since it's arrival. There was no warning!"

"Kili's father is either in Erebor or is on his way." Dis reached for a dust rag to wipe down furniture already spotless.

The other dwarrowdam stared at her, worried. "This Elladan is a warrior of Dain's?"

Dis actually laughed at the suggestion, although without humor to lighten her voice.

No. Not a warrior of the Iron Hills then. Ahriline shook her head, trying to puzzle it out. But Dain's note mentioned nothing else, except for the strange inclusion that the elves of Rivendell had helped in the fighting and were waiting for the reunion of the ...royal ...family. Ahriline straightened up, her mouth agape in shock. A warning? She turned and stared at Dis in disbelief. Elladan wasn't a dwarven name. But it could be, elven.

Dis smiled sadly at her long-time friend. "You should have seen my face when Thror requested this of me."

Ahriline's mouth snapped shut audibly, her eyes still wide. "I feel faint."

"Yes, that was a reaction I had too." Dis commented dryly.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Brinarg wound his way through the confusing hallways of Erebor. The markings were different than those used in the Iron Hills. But then, that wasn't his home either.

The sound of cursing rather than industry let him know he was on the right track. Finally he found the work detail, making it look like he'd stumbled upon them by accident.

Gagnar looked up, hate in his dull eyes as he worked at scrubbing the evidence of Smaug off the walls and floors. Cleaning a mountain. The pride-bound warrior cursed even more.

The guard yawned, ignoring the vitriolic diatribe. "Move on."

Brinarg tried to look disinterested. "Shit job this one." He commented idly, drawing a sharp look from Gagnar and his companions.

"Yeah? Wait until Dain gets back. King Thorin can't do too much to punish the followers of Lord Dain's. But when our leader returns? Watch out. He won't be pleased with these dwarrow, that's for damned sure. In the meantime? Dain gave permission for King Thorin to set up work details among his dwarrow. So guess who gets the shit jobs?" The guard poked at Gagnar, who growled in protest.

"Shameful way to treat fine dwarrow." Brinarg nodded, moving along. Deliberately feeding the hatred in Gagnar's soul. Trying to forge a useful tool.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili sat at Elrohir's back, not sure how he really felt. This tall elf with startling long dark hair, was related to him. Another uncle. The young dwarf had always felt that he had a rather large extended family. But intimately there was only Fili, Thorin, himself and Mam. Inclusion of new persons was a difficult transition for him.

"Don't be afraid." The elf lord spoke with quiet ease. "It's only hair."

Hair that seemed to mean just as much to the elves as it did to the dwarves. The young mixed-blood princling was startled into a light snort. "Says the elf who cut the tree branches rather than his own hair."

Elrohir started to shrug, then stopped due to the pain. Kili noticed and winced, realizing that the elf had gotten hurt protecting he and his brother from harm.

His uncle finally turned his head to glance at him from the corner of one gray eye. "I'd like to not have these in my hair before going to sleep."

Nodding, Kili swallowed with some difficulty while raising his hands to the long fall of dark hair. The first touch was a revelation. "Soft."

Elrohir made a non-verbal sound. Kili picked up a knot of hair and one of the larger branch fragments. His fingers may be more stubby than that of the elves, but he was used to working with hair. At least his brother's. Who was the only one who didn't complain that Kili pulled too hard.

Taking his time, Kili worked the branch and flinched at the feel of the knotted hair. He bent the wood, finding it to be long dead, though not dry really. Oh. The river water. Smiling, he took out his knife blade.

Elrohir shifted in his seat uncertainly.

"Do not worry. This isn't for your hair. Uncle." Kili tested the word, finding it strange on his tongue despite using it multiple times a day for all of his life. Just not to this male.

Elrohir stilled, trusting.

Kili grinned and moved the hair aside as much as possible and began trimming the wood free and sliding the knots off the branches. Elrohir saw the growing pile of woodchips, with very few strands of his hair. He gave a small sigh of approval.

Soon all that was left was long, long dark hair and some tragic looking tangles. "These snarls are bad." Kili commented with a narrowed look.

Elrohir leaned forward and took a bottle that Nuluin had brought him earlier, along with his comb. "Work this into the knots. It will help. Nephew."

Startled, Kili nearly dropped the bottle of a thick pinkish liquid. Nephew? His mouth went dry and he nervously licked his lips. Personally, he wasn't sure which was more disconcerting. Being called 'nephew' or 'Kuilaith'?

"Am I rushing you?" Elrohir asked, sensing the tension in the young dwarf's muscles.

"A bit." Kili admitted with some regret. "Better than being sung to when concussed and almost whisked away the same day." His mouth stopped and he nearly groaned. He hadn't actually meant to say that last part out loud.

But Elrohir didn't seem to take offense. The tall elf warrior nodded. "That wasn't very well done of us. Though I don't know of any way in which to make such revelations which would have been deemed 'right'."

Kili paused, unsure of how to respond. Finally he upturned the bottle of goo on the tangles in Elrohir's hair. "This smells like the woods." He complained, but worked it into the knots with care. "How long before you comb it out?"

"The passing of half of an hour at least." Elrohir turned, looking at his young nephew carefully. Watching every nuance of his expressions as they flew across his rather open countenance. "Our hearts have no barrier to you, Kuilaith."

Kili stared at the gray eyes of the elf before him, then dropped his gaze. "Elves always put things so strangely."

"We think the same of Dwarves." Elrohir retaliated without heat. The two sat silently for a moment. "What would you know of us? Ask."

Kili sat up and grinned, his moods never could stay down for long. "Elves are so ...what's the word? Enigmatic?"

Eyebrows rose and the elf smiled rather gently. "A goodly word for us, I would not dispute that claim. Yet this observation comes from a race who keeps the very existence of their private language a secret."

A wide grin and an outright laugh had Kili's expression clearing. "Yes, you might be right." He fell still for a long moment, then shrugged and sat back. "What are elflings like?"

One eyebrow rose and the elf's gaze turned to surprise at the question. "Few."

"No. I mean, what do they do? How is life for them?" Kili sighed, "I'm not asking right."

Elrohir shook his head slightly. "You're asking fine. But we have few elflings anymore. They are rare and precious to us. Children to elves are a treasure beyond anything found in this world."

Kili dropped his dark-eyed gaze guiltily. "I just meant what kind of games do they play? But ...I ...hear the tone of your voice and it makes me feel bad."

"That is not my intent." Elrohir said quickly.

Kili nodded, trying to absorb everything. "Is that why you tried to whisk me away that first day you were here? Because children are so rare and precious?"

Elrohir made a strangled sound and then nodded slightly. "In part. It was also a deep anger at the dwarves for taking something from us, that the something was a child only made it worse."

"I'm not a possession." The young prince sighed, rejecting the very idea.

"Indeed not." Agreed his father's brother, sympathy tinting his voice. "And the longer that I am here, the more that I can see you are loved. I just ask that you allow yourself to explore the other parts of your ancestry."

"You mean the Maia?" Teased Kili, trying to lighten the mood.

A sharp bark of laughter showed Elrohir's surprise and amusement. "So. Elfling games. It's been a long time since I've been one. But let's see. Sneak was always a favorite game with my brother and I. Estel seems to enjoy it."

"Estel?"

Elrohir nodded. "Our foster brother, he is Numenorean and only ten years of age. He resides in Rivendell."

Kili laughed. "So, I have a foster-uncle who is 60 years younger than I am. Any other relatives?"

"Several." Elrohir nodded, then paused as he saw the way Kili's eyes rounded. "But they are not as close as I as your uncle, or Arwen."

Kili sighed and rolled his shoulders. "Did I miss a conversation somewhere? Who is this Arwen fellow?"

Now Elrohir looked stunned, and then he gave a short chuckle. "Your aunt. Younger sister of myself and your father. She is living in Lothlorien with our mother's mother."

"There's TWO of them?" If this aunt was anything like the Lady Galadriel, Kili was glad she wasn't here. "I don't think I could deal with two of them!" He whispered, not really joking at all, despite his uncle's laughter and reassurance that Arwen was not a copy of the Lady of Light.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili's dreams were terrible, and it didn't help him that he knew he was dreaming. Water closed around him, suffocating him, although strangely he could breathe the fluid just fine. But it hurt. In his nightmare, the young dwarf could feel the river water going down his throat, pressing outwards on the walls of his chest and lungs with rising internal pressure.

The water wasn't dark either. It had flowed within him, becoming steeped with the Light of the Eldar and now the pressure only increased. Kili knew himself to be dreaming, but it felt so damned real! As if the rising tide of water and light were threatening to burst him open like a fruit gone over-ripe.

He awoke, his mind still feeling clouded. It even took him a moment to realize that he had indeed awoken and wasn't still caught up in his nightmare. Sweat clung to him, sticking his hair to his face and neck while his head pounded.

Groggy, the young prince swallowed and realized that his mouth was dry. Funny. Dream about drowning and wake up thirsty. "That's just wrong." He muttered, then started coughing harshly. What was up with his voice, it was as if it had lowered two registers since he'd gone to bed.

Not his bed. Kili looked up, suddenly focusing. He pushed his sweat dampened hair away from his face and saw two blue eyes blinking at him in the dim lighting of the healer's hall. "Fili?"

The blond gave a terribly weak smile, and Kili's face melted into a relieved grin. He glanced around, noting that they were alone except for a sliver of light coming from a room next door. Must be where the healer was. Fili started to reach for him, then closed his eyes and groaned.

Kili reached forward and patted his brother's arm. "I'll get the healer."

The dark-haired prince fairly raced to the door and opened it, hanging half-way in and half-way out. "He's awake. My brother. Well, not like you didn't know who he is. He's hurting though."

This wasn't Nuluin, but one of the healer's that Thranduil had sent along with the supplies from the Mirkwood. Eyes cold and clear like a mountain stream eyed him with clear distaste. The healer sighed, putting down his book in which he was scribing something. A spate of elvish left his lips as he swept past Kili into the main hall.

Kili blinked, his headache pushing in on him. He was lousy with Elvish. But then, he'd not been putting any effort into it. But he knew those words. Most dwarves did. Since they were basically nothing more than a racial slur.

Without hesitation, the sweaty and unkempt young prince stood up to his full height and raised his voice. "Not you. I want Nuluin to tend Prince Fili of Erebor."

The healer, half-way to the bed, stopped. He turned his cold eyes back to the youngster. "Nuluin is one of the greatest healers in Elven-kind. And sleeping. He does not need to attend for such a matter as this." He moved to reach toward Fili.

Kili reached over and took the healer's book, throwing it with aching accuracy at the elf's head.

The healer looked stunned, reaching for his head and staring at the book which had just struck him.

"I said. Not you. Nuluin."

"Then let your brother suffer." The elf threw up his hands, walking away from the sick bed.

"Nuluin! ATTEND!" Kili shouted hoarsely. Which might not have awoken the elvish healer, as the prince did not know where the Rivendell elf was sleeping. But a dwarvish guard did rush into the room, wild eyed, sword drawn. Kili pointed at him with utter authority. "I want Nuluin."

"Who do you think you are?" Hissed the tall Mirkwood elf.

Kili glared at him, wishing he was wearing more than his winter woolens under coarse pants and a loose shirt. It was a look that hardly appeared regal. "I am Kili, heir of Thorin, King Under the Mountain. Prince of Erebor. I am Kuilaith. Son of Elladan, son of Elrond, and the what-ever of Lady Galadriel. So sit down, shut up and stay the fuck away from my brother!"

"You? A prince? Of nothing!" The Mirkwood elf fairly spat out the words. "A mongrel, a waste, a blemish upon Arda. You belong to neither race and are nothing but a mistake! No elf will look on you with favor. No dwarf will follow you. A prince you say? Lead your people! Only, you have none."

Kili was saved from answering, though he flushed angrily, as the door opened and Nuluin entered grumbling under his breath.

The Mirkwood healer was quick to speak. In fluid Elvish. He gestured toward Fili and then dismissively toward Kili.

Nuluin sighed and blinked his eyes, yawning. He turned to Kili and held out a hand to stop the flow of Elvish. "You won't let the healer do his job?"

Elladan rushed into the room, looking only slightly mussed as he pulled a rich silken robe on over a simple linen tunic and sleep pants. He was barefoot. Kili noticed, as if that mattered. "Has something happened to Fili?"

Kili shook his head, then swallowed hard to keep his stomach in place. He pushed back against his headache and bitterly repeated the accursed Elvish words and inflections perfectly.

Elladan hissed and Nuluin went pale in the face. The Mirkwood healer just sat there, stunned.

"Do you know what it means?" Kili asked with a false sweetness. "For while I have a lot to learn about Elvish, I know those particular words. I will not fucking have that warg-whelp of an elf near my brother."

The Mirkwood healer pressed his lips together, lessening the perfection of his smooth skin. He opened his mouth, only to still as Elladan turned angry eyes upon him. "Leave us."

The elf healer looked cross and ready to argue. Kili waited for Elladan to say something, do something, show SOMETHING in order to stand up for him. But all the elf who claimed to be his father did was speak a few words in Elvish and turn away.

Kili's mouth thinned. Where was the outrage? For all the elf's professions of wanting to be in his son's life, where was that now?

"Nuluin?" Elladan called out.

But the Rivendell healer was leaving the mess behind him to Elladan, he was already at the side of the ailing crown prince.

Kili, his anger spiralling higher, turned frozen and hard eyes on his father who looked a bit stunned. Elladan opened his mouth to say something to him. Coldly, Kili turned away, focusing on watching Nuluin tend to Fili.

"Kuilaith?"

Dark eyes narrowed and despite himself he shot his father an evil look. Pain ebbed and flowed and throbbed within his skull. He looked at the door as the Mirkwood elf left, seeing only the contemptuous look on the healer's face. "Do not call me that." His voice was as cold as his soul felt right now.

"Kili?" Elladan tried again, his voice gentle and yet alarmed.

"No. No. You can't call me that either." Reckless and not feeling in control, Kili looked around the room and suddenly felt like he was back in his nightmare, drowning. His lungs hurt, he could almost feel the fluid gurgling within him, strangling him. "I can't breathe."

"Prince? Let me assist you."

Kili spun, blinking as the world didn't stop when he did. He forced his eyes to focus on Nuluin. "Don't look at me, tend my brother."

"Fili is fine. He just needed something for pain. He's already sleeping. No sign of anything amiss." Nuluin spoke very quietly, his eyes kind and worried. "You are sounding hoarse."

"I'm fine. I ..." Kili turned and saw that Elladan had taken a few steps toward him. "Stop! No! I need ...I can't ...get away from me!"

"Son?"

"NO!" The young prince yelped, then winced at the pain clouding him. "You gave up that right." His eyes narrowed, looking glassy. "If you try to put me to sleep I will kill you."

The threat didn't do much beyond make Elladan slow down. "You're not feeling well. You're flushed. You probably are fevered."

"So? I'm a mistake. Your mistake." Kili said belligerently, waving a hand at them as if to make them go away. "No, no. I just ...I need to breathe."

With that the young prince turned and fled through the office of the healer and out the back entrance to the large balcony overlooking the outside world.

Nuluin started to follow. Elladan watched sadly and stopped him. "No."

"He doesn't mean it. He's ill. We need to bring him back." The healer protested. "It's a bad night out there with the storm."

Elladan shook his head. "The storm isn't only outside. He's in a high fever and very upset. We're elves, if we go out there right now he will fight us. I'd rather he calm down."

"Where are you going?" The healer asked as the elvish father moved toward the guard at the door.

"For reinforcements." Elladan said shortly. He looked down at the dwarven guard who looked ill at ease. "I need your assistance. I need to see the King."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin stood on the balcony, light from the office behind him lighting the area. But a dwarf's sight in the darkness was not as limited as the Elves or the Men. Even the bright light behind him did not mar his night vision, it was all part of his race's heritage.

Kili stood at the railing, hands clenching the stonework and his knuckles showing white. Water streamed down his dark hair, making it longer and pulling the waves out straight. Almost elven in appearance, Thorin saw.

"Go away."

Thorin grunted roughly. "That didn't work when you were a dwarfling, it's not going to work now."

"Thorin?" The voice was smaller this time, making the king's heart ache.

"Who else was that elf who calls himself your father going to turn to in the middle of the miserable night to get your sorry arse back inside where you can be tended?" Thorin said with a hint of amusement, trying to hide his concern.

Kili coughed and his uncle frowned at the raspy sound. It took far too long before the loud hacking sounds ceased. Thorin frowned as he saw his nephew hunch his shoulders forward protectively. "He could have just forced me back inside."

"I think you threatened him with bodily harm." Thorin pointed out. Still a bit shocked to be awoken in the middle of the night. He'd held onto his temper through Elladan's explanation though. Wondering what it had cost the elf to turn to him for assistance.

Kili snorted in derision. "If he wanted me inside, I'd be inside."

Thorin's eyes narrowed on his nephew's back. "He came to me."

This answer made the young prince turn in surprise, staring.

The king sighed, holding out his arms like he had a million times before. Kili couldn't deny him. He walked right into his uncle's embrace without a qualm. "He came to me in order to get you inside without a fight."

Kili burrowed into Thorin's arms. "Did he ..."

"He told me all that happened." Thorin assured him. "It's being dealt with."

The young prince shook his head. "He didn't stand up for us. Me and Fili." He frowned. "Me or Fili? Nevermind. He just sent the idiot out of the room."

Thorin grimaced, but couldn't lie, not about this. "Elladan sent the fool healer to the Lady Galadriel for judgement. That one holds his life in her hands."

Kili's head jerked up, shocked, large and fevered dark eyes searching his uncle's face.

The king sighed. "I'm not even sure that is a euphamism. I would not want to be wearing his shoes this night. If anything, Elladan might have been a little harsh."

"Uncle Thorin?" Kili sighed. "I called Elrohir uncle today." He confessed shame-faced.

Thorin grunted and then smiled sadly. "You've never only had just one uncle."

"But I didn't know about Elrohir."

"Wasn't speaking of Elrohir." Thorin said gently, putting his hand on the back of Kili's neck beneath his hair. "Frerin." He frowned, the lad's fever was spiking extremely high, despite the cold rain drenching them both.

Kili balked as Thorin started to pull him back inside. "I can't breathe in there."

"You can't breath because your lungs are filling with fluid." Thorin groused, pulling his nephew in one step and a time.

"Did you know I have an aunt?" Kili asked in a small voice. "When am I going to run out of relatives?"

Thorin managed to get them under the overhang. They weren't inside yet, but at least the rain was no longer drenching them.

"Uncle? What am I?" Kili sounded so lost. Thorin looked up into the room behind him, seeing Elladan watching them. He knew the elf had heard everything the two had said outside. "I'm not an elf or a dwarf. I'm nothing."

Uncomfortable, Thorin's arms tightened around the young lad whom he'd helped raise. "You're sick." He said dryly, leading Kili over to Nuluin.

The healer pushed Kili's dripping hair out of his face and looked into his eyes. The prince rewarded him with a giant hacking cough. The healer didn't even flinch.

"I'm neither. Nothing."

"You're everything." Elladan shook his head, his voice cautious. "You're the best of both races."

Thorin sighed unhappily as the healer told them to get Kili stripped down while he started making some healing draughts. "Elf. You make it hard to keep hating you. But I will keep endeavouring."

Kili's laugh turned into an awful cough, leaving his chest and throat hurting. "Ow."

The king sat his nephew down on a low stool while Elladan pulled off his sodden shirt. Thorin was handed a towel by the healer and took it to Kili's back and chest while Elladan took the other towel to his son's hair.

"Healer? Make those healing droughts awful tasting." Thorin grumbled.

Kili groaned. "Why?"

"Payback for getting me up at this forsaken hour."

"That was Elladan." The young princling pointed out.

Thorin smiled. "So it was. Good. I can keep hating him."

"No, don't do that." Kili sighed, swaying in his seat, nearly out of it. "He's my da." He looked up at Elladan. "Would the Lady really take that healer's life?"

"I leave that in her hands. I was too angry to deal with the likes of him."

Thorin eyed the tall elf. "So you've never said anything similar?"

"I'll admit to mine, if you tell me every slur you've leveled at Elves." Elladan rejoined.

The two males eyed each other, and both backed away by tacit and unspoken agreement.

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I'm no artist. But I would take it as a personal favor if anyone cared to draw their version of this last scene with Thorin and Elladan toweling off poor sick Kili. Or any scene really. Wish I could draw. Why yes, this is shameless begging if you couldn't tell.


	17. In which Glorfindel makes an offer

"Why can't I see my brother?" Fili's voice sounded weak, unsupported. He frowned at the sound even while he started to rub his chest, only to have the tall elf catch his arm and gently stop him.

Nuluin shook his head gently. "He has pneumonia, or very nearly. In a few days you may see him if things go well."

The blond fought not to yawn as he eyed the elven healer, instead turning his blue eyes to his uncle. Thorin was looking relieved, relaxed. This in turn let Fili know that his younger brother wasn't in any immediate danger. "Kili?"

"Is sleeping." Thorin pulled a fierce frown as he sighed dramatically. "Which isn't fair since I'm the one who didn't get to sleep through the morning, unlike the two of you."

Fili laughed, then stopped as his lungs began to protest the rather forceful movement. "Ow, ow, ow." He coughed weakly, sliding down in the bed.

"Sitting up is better for your breathing." Nuluin frowned and held out a spoon with a wickedly looking green syrup. Fili eyed it with all the wary skepticism of a murky cave deep within goblin territory. The healer pushed it toward's the crown prince's mouth. "This will help repress the cough reflex, which will in turn help keep you from unneccessary pain."

With ill grace, Fili opened his mouth and accepted the medicine. Surprisingly it didn't taste that bad. "Minty." He managed a smile until he heard a hacking cough from across the hallway. Fili's expression turned into an unhappy frown. "The syrup doesn't seem to work for Kili."

"He can't have any." Nuluin twitched his mouth and explained before the blond dwarf could protest. "Your lung needs to heal and not be under undue stress. No coughing. Kuilaith has a lot of fluid and phlegm within his lungs, it needs to come out. He needs to cough to expell it all. We're trying to thin those fluids and bring them out of him."

Fili frowned, but he understood well enough. He just didn't have to like it. "I thought he was part Elf. Wouldn't he be free of disease?"

Nuluin was surprised into a laugh, and then he reached out and pushed Fili's lank hair out of his face, helping him settle into a more upright posture. "Elves are highly resistant to disease, yes. But not free of all disease. Pneumonia likely set in because his body was going through internal changes, suppressing his ability to fight things off. Added to that was a traumatic event and not being able to breathe while underwater, sucking in far too much river water. He's young and healthy, he will recover quickly."

Relieved, Fili gave in to the next yawn that threatened. Thorin nodded to him. "Rest. Go ahead. Another nephew able to sleep while the poor king must go without. Leaving me with important meetings without support ...or rest." His grin giving lie to his words. "Pathetic."

"Kili will be going crazed without visitors." Fili leaned his head against the pillow propped behind his head and the wall, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

Thorin snorted. "He's never alone, I can assure you. Nor is he being ignored. Bombur is fairly dancing from foot to foot waiting for either of you to get hungry so he can make more soup."

Fili's eyes widened. "So why can't I see him if everyone else can?"

"Because you were stupid enough to get shot by an orc." Thorin reprimanded him with dry humor. "I'd make Kili the elder over you if he hadn't been stupid enough to try and swallow the entire river. So I guess you're stuck being the crown prince still."

Fili stared at him, then winced as he made a face. "Trying NOT to laugh hurts almost as bad as laughing."

Nuluin cleared his throat, waiting until the blond's head turned toward him. "Pneumonia such as Kuilaith has is not very dangerous to those who are healthy and have uninjured lungs. Your lung has been compromised, and for you catching pneumonia right now would be far worse. Possibly mortally so."

"Oh." Fili's arm went across his chest wound protectively.

"Pneumonia along with your injured lung would not be a good thing." The healer understated the matter, but his solemn voice emphasized his seriousness. "No sneaking over there, no peeking in, no nothing until you are cleared by me. Swear on it."

Fili licked his lips nervously, looking both guilty and innocent all at the same time. He hadn't done any sneaking around yet. But he had thought about it.

Thorin barked out a laugh. "It sounds like you know my nephews well."

Nuluin shook his head. "Elladan and Elrohir were just as bad if not worse than these two. I had to learn, though it was a long time ago since they were elflings together. Don't let their manners now fool you, they were absolute terrors back then." He said with fond remembrance.

"Is that why you're here in Erebor? For love of the twins?" Thorin asked the tall elven healer, his curiosity overcoming his natural tendency to sit back and glower at the elves.

Nuluin looked up, his eyes blank for a long moment as if he wasn't sure he wanted to answer. Finally he gave the smallest shake of his head. "I had told no one, but I was beginning to dream of the sea."

Thorin's gaze turned quizzical.

"Thinking of leaving Middle Earth behind me forever." The Rivendell healer bowed his head. "Then the Lady of Lothlorien swept into the healing halls of Rivendell, seeking someone to bring along with the riders for ... Erebor." Nuluin paused as if about to say something else, then substituted the name of the dwarven kingdom.

Thorin didn't call him on the near slip. Knowing that the missing line would have been something about reclaiming a stolen child. "She demanded you come along?" He nodded, sure that it would be difficult to refuse the Lady Galadriel.

"Not really." Nuluin closed his eyes, as if recalling the events within his mind. "She looked around, and then her eyes sought mine and mine alone. She asked me nicely to come, and I did."

Fili stirred, his mind racing as he thought about the tale. "Is she a great friend of yours?"

Nuluin's mouth twitched. "In several thousand years, we had spoken perhaps five times." He chuckled at the look on the faces of the two dwarves. "We knew of each other well enough, but were not particular friends. Though her daughter and I did share a love of harp music."

"Do you still dream of the sea?" Thorin asked the question gruffly, though not unkindly. He might not like elves, but the healer's straight forward ways could not hide the gentleness with which he'd treated both of the Erebor princes.

The tall elf healer seemed to think that over, then smiled as he shook his head. "No. Instead of the sound of waves crashing on the shore, I dream instead of the wind through fields of herbs and hear the drip of water upon stone. It is not an unpleasant sound."

"Different than what you're used to." Thorin commented, unsure of this conversation. Did dreams have meaning and portent among the elves? Did he even really want to know if they did?

Nuluin nodded his head, his long middling dark hair swinging forward with his movement.

Another round of coughing from the direction of the room were Kili was being treated pulled all attention that way. The healer looked at the king. "Any luck in locating the dry mustard?"

Thorin's mouth thinned and he looked pained as he shook his head. "There's little to be found in the way of spices in Erebor. Most don't stay fresh for a hundred and seventy one years."

Nuluin nodded thoughtfully, wishing he had use of the fully stocked dispensary he'd left behind in Rivendell.

Thorin grumbled as he moved to get up and head back downstairs. "Find one treasure, and then have to send scouts out to locate something as simple as dried mustard. What good is gold if there are no supplies to find?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The Mirkwood healer, a tall elf with long sun-streaked brown hair, stood proudly in the center of the room. His robes were perfect, his posture straight enough to be made of metal. His mouth was thinned with temper and his eyes were fixed on an empty spot along the wall.

He ignored the others in the room with utter disdain, completely composed and looking bored.

A door opened and someone new entered the room. The look of boredom disappeared as the healer tensed until recognizing the newcomer with a sigh of relief. "My king."

Thranduil weighed the presence of those around him carefully, making no acknowledgement of the elf from his kingdom. The tall monarch was no less haughty here in the halls of Erebor than he'd ever been within Mirkwood. "What is this about? I come to speak with King Thorin on important business, but before I can I am informed there is a ... problem?"

Elrohir stared at the Mirkwood king, clad in a fine yet plain robe over an embroidered tunic more suited for travelling than receiving visitors. He said nothing, ignoring a small plate of bread, cheese and grapes on the table in front of him.

Seated across from Elrond's son, Glorfindel raised a bottle in invitation.

Thranduil's lips sneered and he looked down his nose at the ancient warrior. "Even for one who loves the taste of fine spirits, it is far too early."

"Sparkling cider." Glorfindel poured with no little relish. "I've never had such before. No fermentation."

"Cider contains alcohol." The Elven King's voice dripped with arrogance.

The ancient slayer of the balrog simply shrugged off the tone, as if it ...and the speaker ...were of no real consequence. "I have been educated that hard cider is alcoholic, but that this is sparkling cider. No alcohol."

"Juice." Thranduil shook his head dismissively and waved one beringed hand lazily.

"Sparkling." The golden haired warrior leaned in with a softly amused smile. "The dwarves have a definite way with crafting, even with beverages. They've put bubbles in the juice. It's highly refreshing."

The Mirkwood healer frowned, then smoothed out his expression. He was being deliberately ignored and he knew it. He had been standing here for hours already. But he'd be damned if he asked if he could rest.

The door opened abruptly and without fanfare. The King Under the Mountain strolled inside like he owned the mountain. Thranduil frowned, he supposed Thorin actually did rather own the mountain. "You called for me?" His tone showed he didn't care for the message he'd been sent basically summoning him to Erebor.

Thorin waved a hand at Dwalin, who opened a small wooden casket. The clear and glowing stones effectively shut the Elven King's mouth and widened his eyes most comically. "I told you we would eventually find them.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Brinarg sat back in the tavern, watching the comings and goings with deceptively lazy eyes. Casual observers wouldn't be able to tell, but his attention was almost completely upon the owner of the newly refurbished establishment.

Dale was a city under construction and repair. The tavern was no exception. Shabby and bare bones, it did at least have a fine store of ale and barely decent food. The tavern owner though, he was still a mystery.

A king's dwarrow. Nori. Part of Thorin's famous 'Company'. And yet, no longer in Erebor. Setting up out here in the newly reclaimed Dale. Why?

"What's for the supper then?" One dwarrow asked, eyes following the human server instead of focusing on the dwarf behind the bar.

"Beef with a mustard rub." Nori coughed and slammed his hand down on the dwarrow's fingers as that one had reached out to fondle the lass serving the drinks. "Hands off the humans. We don't cross breed here."

"I heard the young prince has eyes for an elf." Sneered an elderly dwarrow already deep into his cups. He burped rather loudly to the cheers of his fellows. "Then again, the young prince being part elf that's not so much cross breeding."

"Too crossed already." Murmured someone in the group.

Nori frowned, wiping down a glass with a steady hand. "No, no. I may have my problems with getting my portion of the treasure out of a king. But the prince is a good lad."

Brinarg stirred, cutting his eyes toward his companion for an early pint of ale. Gagnar did not disappoint. Gruffly, the whining arse of a dwarrow pointed at Nori. "If the prince is such a good lad, then why are you using mustard on your beef instead of sending it on to the mountain? Heard the king's errand runners are looking high and low for that spice."

"Oh?" Nori grinned cheekily. "Then buy a bit of beef and take it up to the prince then. Cuz he's young and healthy, he'll recover. My belly though? That needs to be full up tonight. Else the king can pony up my share of the treasure. Be glad to give him all the mustard in Arda for that."

General laughter around the sparse tavern customers. It was too early for a goodly crowd.

Brinarg sat back, watching. Considering.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The Lady of Lothlorien strode into the room not as if she owned the mountain, but as if the mountain was a mere backdrop built just for her. Royal confidence was a part of her, not as a mantle that one might put on for grand occasions.

Thranduil's hand pressed down slightly on the lid of the box sitting in front of him. He smiled. The price had been high, but the glowing stones of Starlight now were his at last.

Thorin eyed the golden haired female with caution, trying to hide the glee over the high price he'd gotten out of the Elven king.

The two monarchs were pleased, each thinking they'd gotten the better end of the bargain. When Galadriel entered the room, their happiness dimmed. Suddenly all eyes turned to her, and to the poor elven healer still standing in the middle of the room.

Finally, King Thranduil sighed. "My healer is the problem that was mentioned to me?" Might as well get the unpleasantness over with.

"He insulted my nephew." Elrohir complained coolly. "Egregiously."

Thranduil nodded, though inwardly he wanted to shrug off the moment as of no real consequence. "Set up a champion."

The Mirkwood healer stiffened. A fight to the first draw of blood. He against the dwarf mixed-blood? Perfect. A smile started to grow on his lips.

"Kuilaith is ill."

"We can wait until he is deemed recovered." Thranduial said, generously in his opinion.

"He is also underage by our counting. We will not wait for him to get older for two decades." Elrohir, his voice like silk. "Kuilaith is within his rights to have a stand-in chosen for him."

Thorin stirred, not sure what exactly was happening. It sounded like there would be a fight. This was the tradition of the elves? So be it.

"Tradition precludes family." Thranduil's voice was no less smooth than that of Kili's uncle.

Elrohir smiled grimly. "Tauriel would be happy to step in if asked, I am quite sure."

The healer's pleasure faded. He knew Tauriel. She was merely Silvan, true. But a warrior of great skill. He did not want to face her on this challenge. "She would not fight for a dwarf." The very thought was ridiculous, even if she had been friendly with the dwarves of late.

Thorin and Dwalin stiffened, instantly angered. The tattooed warrior stepped forward deliberately.

Elrohir frowned and shook his head at the duo. "It can't be a family member, and I believe that he is a cousin?" He said, pointing the the the fierce looking warrior beside the king.

Dwalin and Thorin shared a look. "Bofur, Bombur or Bifer?"

Elrohir shifted in his seat, his mouth tightening as the movement pulled on his sorely bruised shoulder only recently repaired. "I would place any wager that Tauriel would be only too happy to assist you in this matter."

Thranduil's eyes slitted a bit at those words, but he didn't contradict them. Tauriel, his ward that he had taken into his household, would most likely indeed side with the dwarves on this matter. Distasteful business, even if his healer was certainly in the wrong.

"No elf will take up in an insult bout against another elf on the behalf of dwarves." The Mirkwood healer was back to sounding haughty.

"I would."

The quietly spoken words stopped them all, as each eye turned to a certain tall elf standing now. The golden haired elf carefully put down his cup, the long fingers of his hand the very picture of elegance and grace as it moved to the hilt of his sword. A blade that had tasted the blood of dragons and demons. Glorfindel smiled most winsomely at them all, but his voice was resolute. "I claim that right."

Even Thranduial paled while the poor healer looked suddenly ready to faint.

Thorin frowned. "We have warriors here who ..."

Glorfindel blinked lazily. "Surely you would not deny an elderly and decrepit elf this one small sop to his pride?"

Dwalin nearly choked at the thought of anyone calling the elven warrior elderly or decrepit.

Thranduil stirred. This was going too far. "For love of the family you would do this?"

Glorfindel's smile spread across his face and he stepped forward. "I do love the family. And am growing in appreciation of the extended family."

Thorin started, had the elf's eyes cut in his and Dwalin's direction for a second? Surely not.

"But I will state that my heart has few barriers left to young Kuilaith and his brother."

Thorin frowned. What did that phrase mean? He looked to Dwalin, whose jaw was clenched, though the warrior looked no more enlightened than he did.

Galadriel gave a small smile of true amusement, cutting through the tension in the room. "As entertaining as such a bout would be, it is of no use here. A champion is not called for."

Thorin frowned. Was the elf witch about to let the healer slide off the hook? "Why not?" He interrupted rudely, crossing his arms with a rising temper.

"I claim this one to be derelict in his duties, putting kin at risk and causing damage." The Lady continued, her voice smooth for all the devestation suddenly on the face of the healer.

Thorin and Dwalin both frowned, unsure what that all meant. They shared a look, but by tacit agreement stayed their questions for now.

The elves all sucked in a deep breath, shocked.

Thranduil was the first to recover, though he looked a little less sure of himself now. "How so?" His fingers twitched reflexively and he pressed the palm of his hand down on the box before him to still the tell-tale nerves.

Galadriel's eyes turned to the Elven king even while pointing at the healer . "Recite the events." Her voice was still even, still musical and smooth, and utterly without pity.

The Mirkwood elf licked his lips nervously. An insult resulting in a fight to first drawn blood was one thing. Dereliction of duty with harm caused? Inconceivable. "I was scribing the events of the night into my healer's journal when the ..." He sneered nervously, but gaining confidence. He had NOT been derelict. "prince fairly threw open the door to the office without knocking and ..."

Thranduil held up one hand and the healer stopped his talking. The Elven ruler balefully stared at the unlucky elf for a moment, then sighed. "Who was on duty?"

"I was, sire." The healer drew up as tall has possible. "I would have attended the injured dwarf but his brother stopped me, calling for Nuluin instead. I was working."

Glorfindel's hand caressed the hilt of his sword as the warrior still stood before the healer, not backing away. "If you were on duty, why were you scribing in the other room?"

This made the healer stop and swallow hard as he realized where this was going. "The light was better in the office." He protested. "I didn't want to light a lantern in the healing room, the dwarven princes were sleeping."

Thranduil's eyes closed as if in pain. "You left two sleeping charges alone? Where they removed from all danger by that point?"

"I was doing my duty! Scribing the events, it is part of my duties!" The healer protested.

Elrohir's voice was cold as winter ice. "Fili's lung was pierced and repaired mere hours before. With an announcement that unless he succumbed to infection, he would recover?"

The healer nodded, nervously looking around him and realizing that he might be in more trouble than he'd originally thought.

The music of Galadriel's voice was tinged with something dark, somber and full of sorrow. "Would pneumonia count as an infection?"

This time the healer didn't answer, he just blinked.

Elrohir growled while Glorfindel cocked his head to the side as he spoke up. "Wasn't Kuilaith given leave to recover in the bed next to his brother? While he was watched for symptoms of distress or illness?"

"Watched?" Elrohir's growl continued. "Ignored."

The healer held out his hands beseechingly. "I did not know the young prince was ill!"

"What are the signs and symptoms of a high fever? A set of lungs filling with fluids? How was his breathing? His temperature? His sweating through his clothing?" Glorfindel's smile turned predatory as he eyed the healer who squeaked and backed away three steps before managing to come back to himself.

Thorin watched with wide eyes, knowing he was almost feeling sorry for the healer. But not quite. He was enjoying this more than was seemly.

The Lady of Light held up one hand and everyone stilled, falling silent. She gave the Mirkwood elf a lingering look. "You missed the symptoms because you were busy in the other room. You allowed Kuilaith to stay near his brother Fili, even with the danger to the crown prince for catching the same illness as his sibling. You left a highly probably source of infection near to a recovering patient."

"THEN when you were called, you insulted them." Elrohir sighed heavily.

"Dereliction." Glorfindel's voice rang through the stone chamber.

"Dereliction." Pronounced Elrohir in a quieter voice that still reeked of anger.

Glorfindel's mouth tightened with anger. "But I wanted to fight him." It was close to a whine. Though his eyes showed he was pleased with the turn of events even if he was protesting slightly.

Galadriel did not speak, instead she looked at Thranduil. The Elven king ran one hand over the box of jewels and then looked at Thorin. He sneered, but bowed his head. "I will not deny the truth spoken from my healer's own words. Dereliction."

The Mirkwood healer suddenly on his feet. He managed to catch his balance before falling, though he noted that no one moved to help steady him. Certainly not the ancient golden hero who was standing but a few steps away.

"Are you sure I can't blood him first?" Glorfindel sighed.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili stared at the bowl of soup with all the apparent appetite of someone looking upon a pile of warg dung. Steaming.

Ori sighed looking hapless as he shifted his weight back and forth on his feet. "I can get them to add more potatoes perhaps?" He said, nearly wringing his hands. "I'm not as good at this as Bombur. Salt? Pepper? We don't have a lot of choices right now."

Elladan, sitting next to his son's bed, laughed gently. "I'm sure the soup is delicious. But the lad has had three cups of water, four of juice, and two bowls of soup since he awoke."

"You forgot the tea." Tauriel's eyes sparkled with humor, drawing an evil look from the patient she was visiting. "Dori brought a pot of lovely tea."

"Which you refused to drink for me." Kili's arms crossed his chest, his mood beyond grouchy.

The red-haired she-elf smiled. "He brought the tea for you. It was very kind of him."

"Everyone is trying to drown me all over again!" Kili made a face, drawing amused glances from those around him.

Ori giggled at that, then straightened his expression as Kili scowled at him. "Nori likes to call Dori a mother hen."

"Not to his face." Kili's mood shifted a bit and he grinned evilly. "Not since that one time."

Ori laughed outright and shook his head happily. "Nori still complains that his tooth is loosened and he's lucky to still have it attached to his jaw."

A knock on the door had Elladan looking up. The guards outside wouldn't just let strangers up on these healing halls, so he knew it to be someone known. "Come."

The door opened and Ori went on full alert, his posture suddenly poker straight. Tauriel and Elladan both stood while Kili pulled his blanket up over his sleep shirt and nearly to his eyes. He didn't have his woolens anymore, they'd gotten soaked last night.

Lady Galadriel smiled at them all, an edge to the upturn of her lips. Her beauty was not lessened, nor did her face show any temper, but something unseen about her had everyone on edge and uneasy.

No one spoke as she fair glided across the floor. Kili watched with eyes wide as saucers. He could see her feet move over the floorboards, but he could not shake the feeling that she was floating and not really part of this world.

The dark-eyed prince of two races looked up and up into her face as she moved to stand over the sick bed. He just hoped he didn't start coughing in her face. "I'm sick." Kili said inanely, wincing at sounding so stupid and young. What he really wanted to say was 'go away'.

The Golden Witch of Lothlorien then sat on the edge of his bed and Kili stopped breathing all together. His dark eyes turned pleadingly on his father, who nodded at him reassuringly. No! He didn't want reassuring, he wanted the female elf off of his bed. "Are you going to put me to sleep again?" He asked, clearly alarmed and feeling antsy.

She shook her head. He eyed her and sighed. She glowed. He felt like crap, and she was glowing at him! It wasn't fair. Kili started to ask her something, anything, when his breath caught and the hoarse rasp in his throat turned into a full fledged coughing spasm that lasted for several long minutes. Burning with embarrassment, Kili wanted to do nothing more than curl up into a ball and hide.

A soothing touch to the side of his face made his lungs calm and slow, leaving him enveloped within her presence. He was left looking up into her face, unable to turn away. His chest was still heaving a bit, struggling with catching a solid breath, but at least he was no longer in the throes of coughing.

Lady Galadriel leaned in toward him and Kili's eyes fluttered closed as he felt her lips cool upon his heated forehead. The touch of her hand traveled from his cheek down to just under his chin. There was something soft in her hand, something that tickled.

The soothing music of the elvish language washed over him, though he could not latch onto any singular word. Kili reflexively leaned toward her as she pulled back from him until something fell into his lap.

Kili blinked his eyes open as the Lady of Lorien stood and moved back toward Elladan. She turned and looked at the dark eyed child of her line, her smile far more genuine now. Her lovely eyes slid down to his lap and Kili followed the movement, looking down to see what she'd dropped.

A long tail of hair braided and tied together with a fine circle of rich velvet. Dark hair. Very long. Some streaks from the sun in the locks. There was at least six inches there. Kili's eyes widened with shock as he looked up at Galadriel. His mouth fell open, but no sound passed his lips.

"A parting gift from one who has left to return to his home."

The airy lilt of her voice confused him for a moment as he tried to make sense of her words. Horrified, Kili shook his head, his own dark hair loose around his face. "Is he alive?"

Bubbling laughter met his words and she smiled, nodding. "His life would not have been asked for, merely his pride."

Kili touched the velvet ribbon, there was something hard beneath its smooth texture. Rubbing it through the velvet he realized it was a hair clasp. An elven one. "Seems a bit ...extreme." The young dwarf didn't know how to feel at the moment. "He was rude, but ..."

Galadriel heard the hurt in his voice, and tilted her head to the side slightly. Her eyes conveyed comfort and acceptance but also steely determination. "That one was derelict of his assigned duties besides being deliberately rude. He put you and your brother in danger."

Kili swallowed, then nearly choked as he felt his throat spasm while he tried unsuccessfully to hold back another coughing bout. He failed. The coughing fairly shook his entire body as his lungs tried to rid him of the offending fluids building up inside.

Elladan moved to the other side of his bed, settling down next to his son. When the coughing eased, Kili felt as weak as a newborn and leaned gratefully against his father. Elladan accepted the weight of his nearly full grown child gratefully, almost like a gift.

"Should I fetch Nuluin?" Tauriel offered.

Elladan rubbed his son's back in a circular pattern, trying to offer comfort. "He stepped across the hall to help change Fili's dressing. He'll be back in but a moment."

"I want to see Fili." Kili whispered, his voice a mere rasp. He knew he shouldn't visit his brother lest he infect him. But that didn't stop the need to put his eyes on him, to make sure his older sibling was doing well.

Ori looked torn as well, unsure how to help. Suddenly he brightened. "I have an idea." He grabbed Tauriel's hand and the she-elf looked startled. Dwarves did not have the sense of personal space that elves did, and apparently less decorum as well. "I need your help."

Kili looked up, hopeful and distressed all at the same time. "What?"

"Durin's Day gift early." Ori winked, grinning like a loon. Then he laughed. "Or late, since we're having the celebration after the actual holidy."

Given a choice, Tauriel would have preferred to stay with Kili. But with Galadriel now there, the red-head was feeling a little less than elegant next to the Lady who basically personified grace, beauty and power. And Ori was tugging on her.

Laughing Tauriel waved at Kili as she allowed herself to be pulled out of the room and down the stairs.

Kili did not look happy to see her leave, frowning deeply. Then he suddenly slumped his shoulders. "Durin's Day. My gifts aren't ready yet!"

Elladan tightened his arm around the prince. "It is the day after tomorrow. I do not think you will be well enough to attend. I am sorry."

"I know." Kili nodded, pausing to swallow and hoping that he wasn't about to start coughing again. Cautiously he continued. "But I still want to give the gifts I've started."

"I will assist, if you will allow." The offer was made cautiously, as if the speaker wasn't sure how his words would be received.

Kili rested against the support his father offered. His father. Letting his dark eyes close, the young prince of Erebor couldn't fathom how this could have come to pass. "I never thought that ...I mean, I used to wonder who you were."

Elladan wisely didn't speak, his gray eyes peeking up at his mother's mother as she watched the duo softly.

"In your wildest dreams I am sure you did not picture your father as he is. Nor his family." The Lady of Lorien offered with some humor threading through her voice.

Kili snorted, then laughed, and then fell into a coughing spasm.

Galadriel sighed. "I am sorrowed that you do not feel well, that my words cause you pain."

Kili waved at her since he couldn't speak yet, his gestures seemed to mean that he didn't hold her at fault.

The door flew open and Nuluin rushed inside, his usually calm face actually looking happy. He drew up to a halt as he caught sight of the Lady of Light. Then he bowed and gifted her with a smile. Without a word he hurried to put down a large bowl of steaming water he was carrying using thick towels to insulate his hands.

Dori bustled in right behind him.

Kili, having opened his eyes at the intrusion, stared. "More tea?" He knew better, but couldn't guess what had Dori grinning and holding up a large packet.

"Mustard." The craft master laughed.

"You found some." Elladan looked relieved.

Dori's smile dipped and then he shrugged as he looked around the room. "It was found and smuggled in for us."

"Smuggled?" Elladan's relief turned startlement. "Why would it need to be smuggled?"

"Because the one who located it does not want to be seen being helpful to us." Dori took a deep breath, as if needing it to steady himself. "We had to stage an elaborate scene where I visited, saw the mustard and basically commandeered it."

Elladan didn't look like the explanation cleared up anything for him. Kili grinned. His agile mind catching up. Nori. "He's properly outraged I assume?"

Dori sighed and nodded, then smiled. "Making all sorts of noises about needing to be reimbursed and how dare the crown ruin his dinner plans."

Nuluin began mixing the mustard plaster as Dori unrolled some thick strips of fleece.

Elladan tugged on Kili's shirt, helping to pull it off over his head. The prince resisted, looking at the Lady Galadriel. "She's family." Elladan pointed out.

"She's still a she!" Kili protested sharply, embarrassed.

Galadriel smiled at him. "Be at ease. I will let them help you to breathe better."

Relieved, Kili nodded, then realized he was still holding onto the tail of hair she'd given him. He lifted it in his hand. "Uhm, thank you?"

"My heart has no barrier to you." The Lady said before parting.

Kili stared after her. "That phrase ..." He wanted to ask, but his lungs chose that moment to protest and seize up in painful coughing.

Elladan's mouth tightened and he finished pulling off his son's shirt while Nuluin dipped the clean fleece into the mustard mixture, getting ready to plaster it to Kili's chest.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Balin was feeling frazzled as he carried rolls of parchments toward the king's desk. Now that the king had a kingdom again, the REAL work was just beginning.

He was coming from deeper in the mines with lists of critically needed supplies, repairs, jobs that needed skilled hands, and everything else that mattered in getting Erebor running again.

As the white-bearded counselor hurried toward the stairs, he caught a glimmer of something golden in the air.

Pausing, Balin turned and nodded. Glorfindel was out on the ramparts overlooking the plains before Erebor. He would have passed the elf by, but his brother Dwalin had told him of the events earlier.

Balin stepped out onto the ramparts, looking out. "I wanted to offer my thanks for being willing to act as a champion to young Prince Kili." He offered, then smiled. "Although, I'm not sure what that means."

Glorfindel nodded, still looking out onto the plains. "An old tradition. Tell me, do you have your gifts ready for Durin's Day?"

Balin, surprised to have the subject changed, sputtered then nodded.

"You might want to add two more." The ancient hero turned amused yet wary eyes onto the dwarven king's counselor. "We're about to have guests."

Balin turned startled eyes out onto the plains before the kingdom, squinting, but making out nothing. "Oh?"

Glorfindel smiled grimly. "The Lady Galadriel sent for supplies, and reinforcements from Lothlorien. Kuilaith's aunt Arwen to be more precise. To be brought here by Haldir."

"Reinforcements?" The dwarf asked, unsure.

The elven warrior smiled. "Arwen is charming, sweet, intelligent, and a force of nature. No one can resist her really, and she will be delighted to meet both Kuilaith and Fili."

Balin nodded as understanding filled him. Reinforcements. Like Tauriel. Elves that would show Kili that being part elf wasn't all bad. Yet the counselor was well trained in nuance and diplomacy. "You don't seem entirely happy?"

Glorfindel snorted. "Perceptive, Master Dwarf. Haldir is not leading the Lady Arwen. Those are the banners of Lord Celeborn."

Balin's breath caught and he shook his head. "I have heard that name."

"Lady Galadriel's husband." The golden haired warrior nodded. "And one who has a huge mistrust of dwarves."

"Doriath?" Balin guessed.

Glorfindel bowed his head in agreement. "The Lady Galadriel was friends with King Thingol." He paused and took a deep breath. "Lord Celeborn was kin to him."

Balin made a distressed noise and then nodded. "The elven king killed by Firebeard Dwarves. Will it make any difference that we are not Firebeards? We are of the Longbeards."

Glorfindel shrugged lightly. "I hope so." He thought of the tentative bonds being formed with the Elven twins and young Kuilaith. Even with the crown prince and king. "I hope so." He echoed himself.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	18. In which tempers begin to flare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative chapter title: In which the author nearly throws her computer away because nothing is 'flowing' right ...

"I owe you an apology."

Kili blinked and looked up at his uncle, beyond stunned. Unprepared and feeling a bit lost, he tried to make a joke out of it. "Am I dying after all?"

Thorin gave a resigned huff and shook his head very slightly. "Things have been going fast since we arrived in Erebor. We haven't had a chance to even breathe."

"The elves are trying to teach me how to breathe." Kili said, desperate to head off this conversation.

Thorin glowered darkly. "Don't. Just don't."

Kili nodded, biting his tongue.

"When we finally arrived at Erebor ..." Thorin paused painfully long, his eyes with a far-away look.

"Technically, we didn't arrive in Erebor. Together." Kili pointed out in an almost-whisper.

Thorin's blue eyes snapped back to his nephew's face, his expression surprised. "What?"

"Well. If you're going to apologize for leaving me behind. Might as well get it right." Kili looked down at the plate in his lap. He grimaced, feeling no appetite. He put the plate down on the bedside table.

Thorin seemed to be having trouble finding his words. His eyebrows rose and then he coughed before shaking his head. Finally, the king gave a rough laugh that held no humor. "I was apologizing for thinking your arrow wound to be lesser, rather than something far more painful and serious."

Kili blinked, then gave a cheeky half-grin. "Oops."

Thorin sighed rather heavily and ran a rough hand through his thick hair. "I apologize."

Unsteady and on unstable emotional ground, Kili shrugged. As hurt as he'd been at the time, it wasn't really in him to hold a grudge. Especially against his taciturn uncle. And yet. The dark-eyed prince peeked up at Thorin through his thick lashes. "Are you better now?"

The King Under the Mountain grimaced and rolled his shoulders, trying to let go of some of his tension. Better? "I sold Thranduil those stupid gems of his, paid in actual gold and ore to Men and Elves for needed items. And have refrained from killing anyone claiming to be related to you." Thorin gave a wry grin. "Maybe I am a little better."

Kili flashed a bright grin, only slightly ruined as he then fell into a coughing spasm that drew a frown from his uncle. The prince waved a hand at Thorin to hold him back and let him know that he was okay. Finally his lungs allowed him to catch his breath. Weakly he smiled, pushing his limp hair behind his ears.

Thorin grimaced and shook his head. "I haven't had a chance to really speak with you."

Kili's eyes widened comically. "If you're going to apologize for anything else, I really am going to think I'm dying."

Laughing, Thorin reached out and shoved Kili's blanket covered knee. "Fool." He said fondly. Looking around, the king sighed. "We're alone."

It was an unspoken question about where his nephew's elven relatives were. Kili didn't make him ask. "Elladan." He paused, then added quietly, "my da, he is getting my Durin's Day gifts from my room so I can work on them."

Thorin tried very hard not to frown at Kili calling the elf his father, but didn't succeed very well. His hand rose to rub his beard and chin, trying to hide his reaction.

Kili bit his bottom lip, much as he had when he'd been a much younger dwarfling. Yet, he didn't say anything else. Wasn't sure what to say, actually.

Thorin took a deep breath and pinned his nephew with a questioning look. "How do you feel?"

"Strangled." Kili responded quickly. "Like I can't breathe."

Thorin pursed his lips and shook his head. "No. I mean about the revelation about your father."

"Strangled. Like I can't breathe." Kili responded yet again. "I'm not talking about the pneumonia."

"Oh." Thorin gave a jerky nod to show he understood. "Well, you always knew you HAD a father."

Kili grunted, rolling his eyes. "When I was little, I had hoped that it was you."

Thorin choked and sputtered on that one as Kili flushed slightly and hurried to explain. "Hey, I was seven! I didn't really think about you and Mam being brother and sister!"

Struggling to catch his breath and caught between choking and laughing, Thorin held up his hand and wiped moisture from the inner corners of his eyes. "Oh lad."

Kili grinned and laughingly admitted. "I went through all your friends and our neighbors. Wondering who. Then wondering what I'd done that he didn't want me."

"Oh lad." This time Thorin spoke the words with sympathy. "I knew it had to hurt you, but you didn't say anything."

Looking down at his lap, Kili plucked at his blanket. "How could I? Fili would pounce on me any time I started feeling sorry for myself. Tell me it was unworthy to worry about nonsense. That I was of Durin's line and heir to the great Thorin himself."

"Great Thorin?" The king's eyebrows rose with bemusement. "You two are the bane of my existance. And the only things that keep this heart of stone still beating."

Kili kept his face down, hiding his expression. But Thorin knew his younger nephew well. Too well. He sensed the mood change immediately and sighed. "I chose the Mountain over you and your brother."

"You wanted him to go with you." Kili couldn't stop those words for anything in the world. Hating the sound of whining in his own voice.

Thorin closed his eyes, his nephew's hurt piercing his own heart now. "I've apologized." He reached out and touched Kili's cheek, drawing the lad's face up so that their eyes could meet. "I was wrong."

"No. You weren't. I wouldn't have been any use and would have died."

Thorin nodded sagely. "It was still a betrayal. And if it comes down to it again? Faced with the same decision? I choose you and Fili over all else."

Kili looked confused, then flushed as he jerked back, his eyes wide. When would they ever be faced with ... "No! Don't." He begged. "Don't set yourself up against my other relatives."

"You said you felt like you couldn't breathe. That you were strangling." Thorin frowned sharply. "I can have your ...the elves kept from you for a while."

Startled into a shocked look, Kili shook his head. "Don't start that kind of battle. Not over me."

Thorin nodded, resolute. Letting Kili see his worth shining in his uncle's gaze. "I'd go to war for you."

Kili sat there, completely stunned. He shook his head finally. "Now who's the fool?" He sighed and slumped back against the headboard of the bed. "Of all the people in Arda that I imagined as my father ..."

Thorin blinked and scowled as if smelling something terrible. "A damned elf."

Suddenly Kili laughed and flicked his ears. "At least these aren't pointed. Should be grateful for small blessings at least."

Rough laughter broke apart Thorin's scowl. "Aye, at least your ears look Dwarven." He then shook his head. "Could have been worse, I suppose. Your father could have been a hobbit. Can you imagine how hairy your feet would have been if we'd combined dwarf with hobbit?"

Kili's laughter filled the room, and then a coughing spasm hit hard and Thorin winced. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to send you off like that."

Kili shook his head, unable to catch his breath as his whole body shook with the hacking coughs. Still, it didn't escape him that he'd never heard his uncle apologize in over seven decades. And today? He'd gotten three in one afternoon.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Brinarg smiled at his drinking companions, the epitome of a happy dwarf.

If Nori noticed the sharpness of the gaze that travelled over the customers of his tavern, he did not say. If Nori noticed the speculative looks sent his way more than a few times, he in no way tipped his hand. Brinarg finished off his ale, slamming the empty mug down on his table with a bit too much enthusiasm.

The tavernkeeper finally glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow as if asking if a refill was required.

Brinarg shook his head, thinning his lips even while smiling. As if just another happy and less than sober dwarf. He put his money on the table and climbed to his feet, a bit wobbly but hardly unsteady. Deliberately looking harmless and normal.

Nori gave him a friendly nod, which Brinarg returned.

"Night!" Brinarg waved one friendly hand to all and sundry as he made his way to the tavern door. His mind was still going round and round about Nori.

The tri-bearded dwarf was arguing with the crown over payment of treasure following the freeing of Erebor. Point for. Yet Nori defended the young mixed-blood prince as 'a good lad'. Point against. On the other hand, he quarrelled with his own brother about supplies. Point for. And yet ...and yet ...

Brinarg's gait steadied the farther he moved from Nori's tavern until he was walking normally.

Which was a mistake.

Unfortunately for Brinarg, while his loyalty was for sale, he wasn't a master at deception. Not like one who'd spent his whole life looking for opportunities and chances, as well as information. It never occurred to him that with Nori back at the tavern, he was still being watched.

A young human male, not a lad and not nearly a full grown man, walked past the dwarf. Making note of the dwarf's steadiness, direction, expression, and a thousand other small details. All which would be relayed to Nori for a small coin and a large ale or two.

Brinarg might not be sure of Nori's loyalty to the crown. But Nori was pretty sure of Brinarg's loyalties being less than savory. But to whom did the dwarf report?

As any good spy knew. A question answered led to twenty more being asked.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin left for royal 'business' just as Elladan returned with Kili's works-in-progress. "As instructed, only the items on the work bench. And I didn't look inside the chest next to your bed."

Kili grinned widely, his whole face lit up.

"Although how can find anything within that mess is not something I can contemplate."

Kili's grin faded and he groaned as he slumped a bit. "I know where everything is in that room." He avowed.

An eyebrow arched over an amused gray eye. "Even the lone sock I saw peeking out from under your bed?"

Kili's grin returned with full force and he shrugged as he moved out of bed. He caught his father looking at his feet. The socks didn't match. Kili shrugged, wiggling his toes as he looked around. "Not much working space."

"I can have a table or desk brought in." The elf lord offered.

Kili nodded and moved the barely touched plate of cheese, bread and grapes over to his unmade bed that he'd just vacated. He gestured for Elladan to put the items down on the nightstand.

The elven father eyed the plate sitting lopsided on the sheets askance. One lone grape rolled off the dish and onto the bed itself. "I begin to see how that sock got under your bed." He commented rather dryly.

"That sock is probably not alone under my bed." Kili looked up, followed his father's gaze, and smiled. He picked up the grape and ate it with a shrug. "Are elflings more ...meticulous about clean rooms?"

Elladan cocked his head to the side and shrugged. "Not many elflings, you are perhaps the youngest in Middle Earth at the moment. Although I am unsure of the Silvan elves."

The dark-haired prince of two realms choked on his grape, swallowing quickly and then wincing. When he didn't go into another coughing spasm, his shoulders relaxed. "There hasn't been another elf baby born in the past seventy seven years?"

"Seventy eight." Elladan corrected with a wry smile. "And I am not completely certain of that."

Kili waved off the comment, staring at his father. He didn't want an argument on how old he was, or which birthday he had coming up next. So what if the elves counted his age from conception rather than birth? "But there have been elves that died in that time?"

A brief nod and then a shake of the head. "A few, though far more journied for the Undying Lands."

Dark-eyes rounded. "But ...that means that ..."

"Our race is diminishing upon Middle Earth? Yes." Elladan bowed his head simply.

Kili's mind boggled at the thought, and he had too many questions to even voice one. He couldn't seem to get his thoughts ordered.

"But that time will not come for several thousand years." Elladan said soothingly. "We are a long-aged race."

Nodding, Kili pointed at the bundle his father still carried. He deliberately pushed away the unsettling thoughts of the future and settled on the here, the now, the work in front of him.

The elf helped his half-dwarven son unpack the pieces still in need of work. "This is clever work." Elladan held up the embossed leather belt as his gray eyes moved over the intricate design.

Kili couldn't help but smile a little at the compliment. "That one is for Balin. See the design? It's his father's crest." He pointed out perhaps a bit too eagerly. He couldn't help but still feel like he was off balance. Thorin had apologized. He was standing next to an elf who was nearly three thousand years old, and his father. Elves were going to leave Middle Earth. And he was partly one of them. "Do I have to leave too?"

Elladan heard the quiet question, but didn't make the connection. He peered at his son, who was studiously not looking at him. Being sure to tread carefully, he shook his head. "Your brother asked for time. You have that request filled. Kuilaith, you won't have to leave Erebor anytime soon."

Kili's mouth tightened. That hadn't been the crux of his question. But he didn't llike the answer he'd recieved either. "I don't have to go anywhere that I don't want to go."

Hearing the stubborn set of Kuilaith's voice, the elf lord backed off of the topic as if it were hot. "No one is saying otherwise." He said in a way that he hoped was reassuring.

"You were ready to throw me over the back of a horse and carry me off after that damned battle." Kili pointed out rather roughly.

Elladan looked down on his son and thought that perhaps it would be better if he didn't tower over the youth. The dark-haired elf pulled a straight-backed chair closer to the nightstand and took a seat. He didn't want to be seen as dictating instead of approachable. "Kuilaith. Things have changed quite a bit since we first arrived in Erebor. Yes. We, including myself, made mistakes. Our anger was high."

"Because I'm the only elfling in Middle Earth?"

Elladan's smile turned wistful. "Technically, not an elfling."

Kili drew up, clearly affronted by the comment. "Not enough elven blood in my veins?"

Before the prince could say anything else, the elf lord shook his head. "I only meant that you're too old to be considered an elfling. Even though not at your majority yet, definitely not a child anymore."

Dark eyes measured him, considering the explanation with ill grace. Then, in an effort to change the subject, Kili handed his father a carved wooden whistle. "Can you stain that while I work on these gloves for Bifur?"

Elladan, grateful to move off of more explosive subjects, nodded. "I can perhaps manage that." He offered a small smile. "Who is this for? More family designs on the side?"

Kili shifted his weight, not returning the smile, but not rejecting the conversation either. "Gloin." He paused, as if wanting to say more, but choosing instead to remain quiet.

Saddened that they couldn't be more comfortable around each other yet, Elladan nodded. "Lineage is very important for both dwarves and elves." The elven father spoke quietly, his gray eyes serious. "And I hate to introduce sore topics, but I have some news about your particular family tree."

The dark-haired prince hesitated, sensing the caution in his father's voice. "As long as you're not going to tell me that I'm related to Sauron."

Elladan hesitated.

Kili's eyes went round as saucer plates, the whites huge as his jaw dropped.

"I do not believe so." The elf lord commented, clearly thinking back a long way. "The Deceiver was once one of the Ainur spirits, and took part in the Ainulindale, what we call The Great Song."

The dark-haired, and very young prince, nodded. He knew of the Music of the Aiunur and the creation of Arda. Kili wanted to ask some questions, but his throat was suddenly too dry.

Sensing the questions, Elladan smiled sadly at his son. "The Maia were created, not born. As far as is known Sauron has no wife, no children. So no. Although you have some Maia blood running within you, it comes not from Sauron. Although, before he aligned with The Dark Lord, Morgoth he was known as Mairon."

This startled Kili visibly, he jerked in response and shook his head.

Elladan raised his eyebrows at his son. "Yes. That Mairon, who was friend to Aule the Smith and learned much of crafting and forging."

"Did Sauron, or Mairon back then, did he ..." Kili swallowed heavily, feeling unsteady. "Did he help create the Dwarven race?"

The elf lord hadn't been prepared for that question, and it showed. His eyes widened and he shook his head quickly. "No. Oh no. Mairon was aligned with Aule at that time, and learned from him. Before he turned to darkness. But The Smith alone created his children, the Dwarves. And he submitted them to Iluvatar's will, which is why you are part of Arda today. It was Iluvatar who gave the spirit of life to the seven dwarven fathers, and bid them to wake."

"After the Elves." Kili's voice held a touch of bitterness, a feeling of being lesser.

Elladan nodded slowly, not sure what to say next. "So. How dark do you want this whistle stained?"

Kili stared at his father, who was in turn looking only at the wooden whistle in his long-fingered hands. Dissatisfied and feeling out of sorts, he let the conversation go. Dwarves were not lesser, not in his mind. Fili was not lesser.

Elladan suddenly looked up. "We got distracted. I almost forgot to tell you my news."

"Bad news?" Kili grumbled, reaching for a small boring tool.

"No." Elladan shrugged, but still seemed somewhat tense. "It is just, that there are going to be several more elves here shortly. King Thranduil is leaving some warriors to help with border patrols after that attack on you and your brother. One will even function as a temporary healer until a permanent replacement arrives for the one ...who just left."

Kili grinned suddenly, his black mood lifting just a bit. "Part of him left. Part of him is still here. I mean here, here. Not sure what to do with the braid. Am I supposed to mount it on my wall?" He teased.

Elladan winced a little at that mental image. "Perhaps that might be a bit much."

"Uncle Thorin would like the idea." Laughed Kili, his grin undimmed.

"True enough." Elladan sounded resigned and then he shook his head. "What I am meaning to tell you is that my younger sister will be here later this evening. The banners have been spotted coming this way."

Kili blinked, unsure. "The one who lives with Galadriel in Lothlorien? Arwen?"

The elf lord nodded at the thought of his younger sibling. "She's lovely, you'll enjoy her."

"That's not all you have to tell me, is it?" Kili asked quietly, guessing.

Elladan gave him a sympathetic look. "Lady Galadriel's husband is escorting her. I'm afraid that he has little patience for dwarves. I just would ask that you don't take his attitude to heart, let him warm up to you."

Kili stared at him, clearly shocked.

Elladan frowned as his child made no comment, nor did he move. Peering at the young prince, the elf lord verbally prodded him. "Son?"

The dark-eyed youth caught his breath, hesistated, then looked at Elladan with no small amount of incredulousness. "She's married?"

Truly surprised by the question, Elladan gave a true laugh. "Well, of course. Where did you think my mother came from? Thin air?"

Kili shook his head, holding up one finger for a moment, gathering his scattered thoughts. He then sighed and shook his head again. "Someone ... actually married her? Is still married to her?"

"Of all the fantastical histories we've discussed so far, THIS is what you find to be unbelievable?" Elladan watched his son's awe with fresh eyes, smiling. "Yes. The Lady Galadriel is married. Is that such an impossible thought?"

"He has to be really brave." Kili speculuated, bemused. "Or foolish."

The elf lord put down the leather belt he was holding, laughing. "My mother's father is reknowned for his wisdom, actually. And the Lady is not that scary."

Kili gave him a wide-eyed look to show that he did not necessarily agree with that statement. "And that's WITH her liking me."

"Are you sure that she likes you?" Elladan teased lightly.

Kili grinned and nodded. "I'm still alive." He pointed out. "And she ... she told me that her heart had no barriers to me."

"Nor does my heart." Elladan's voice gentled, unsure how this declaration would be recieved. "Do not worry if you don't yet feel the same way. Give us a chance."

The young prince of two races sighed and looked helplessly at his father. "What does that mean? That you two love me?"

"That's part of it." The tall elf hedged. "It's complicated."

"Of course it's complicated, it's Elven!" Kili huffed and looked cross for a moment. "Why do elves have to make simple things so twisty? Besides. You can't love me, you barely know me."

"We do love you, and the more we get to know you the more we come to love you."

Kili backed away, waving his hands in front of him as he shook his head. "You love the idea of me. A son. But you don't KNOW me. Part dwarven, remember? Lesser being?"

"Not lesser. Never." Elladan avowed and then backed off, realizing he was rushing his emotionally skittish child. "We can come back to this."

"No. I want to know what that phrase means. Barriers to the heart?" Kili pushed forward recklessly. "How is that complicated?"

The elf lord sighed, searching for the words to explain in the Common tongue. "It ...remember what I said about Elves leaving Middle Earth?"

Kili's wide eyes had the elven father chuckling lightly. "You said your mother sailed to the Undying Lands. You did not say that she'd left Middle Earth!"

"I see." Elladan put down the wood stain without opening it, looking at his son. "My mother, and many others over the passing of years, have sailed West to the Undying Lands. It does not mean that they are dead"

"That makes no sense!" Kili watched his father's face as the elf closed one eye and twisted his mouth. "Alright. Fine." He huffed, blowing his hair out of his face in frustration. "Sailing west. West is still a direction and that is NOT leaving Middle Earth. The Undying Lands. Isn't that an island? Still part of Middle Earth though. Right?" He watched his father's face and sighed. "Okay fine. That's complicated too."

Elladan nodded. "The Undying Lands are not a part of Middle Earth. Not exactly."

"But you can get there from here." Kili pointed at the ground.

"Only if allowed." Elladan smiled a bit ruefully, amused by his child's confusion. "And you have to sail from a port."

Kili kept pointing at the ground. "If I stand in Middle Earth. Walk west." He stepped in that direction. "I'm still in Middle Earth."

Elladan shook his head. "The Undying Lands can be reached from Middle Earth, but only if you are allowed."

Kili whined slightly and dropped his head back, staring up at the ceiling in supplication. "I hate elves."

"Dwarves have the Halls of Waiting." The youth's father pointed out helpfully.

The princling grinned and brought his gaze back to his father, looking a bit smug. "Sorry. That's the Afterlife. Middle Earth is the Life part of that. Living. Dead. No in-between stage with a land that holds the Undying that live on unnaturally."

"It's not unnatural." Elladan sounded almost amused by his son, shrugging as Kili made another face and a rude noise this time. It was better than anger or hurt. "We'll leave this part of our culture for later. For right now, accept that my mother is living in the Undying Lands."

"Alive in the West. Not dead. On an island that isn't an island, in Middle Earth that isn't part of Middle Earth at all." Kili rolled his shoulders impatiently as he held up both hands, palms up. "I really hate elves."

"You're part elven." His father closed one eye and pointed at him.

Kili chose to ignore that comment, and that reality, at least for the time being. "So she can come back? Your mother?" The young prince couldn't quite wrap his head around the concepts being offered.

"No. Glorfindel is the only elf to have died an actual death to be re-embodied and returned to Middle Earth. And he was dead. My mother, she was alive when she sailed away and she remains alive. The Undying Lands. It's not just a name."

Kili stared, unsure. "If she's alive, why can't she come back? If you can sail there, surely you can sail back?"

"No." Elladan shook his head very sadly. "Once an elf sails West, there is no return."

"Glorfindel." Kili pointed out the major inconsistency.

"Is an oddity." The elf lord smiled with true fondness. "In more ways than one."

Kili moved his jaw back and forth and let out a big sigh. "Twisty and complicated, like elves." He then gave a small startled movement and looked over at his father. "Wait. How did we get on this subject? What does it have to do with barriers within the heart? Are these things even connected?"

"Very much so." Elladan responded almost proudly as he smiled at his son. "Elves live a very, very long time unless they are killed."

Kili nodded, that much he already knew.

"Well." The elf continued. "The world around us is mortal. Humans, dwarves, everyone. And elves can still die in battle or in tragedies. But we're not geared to face death. Each passing of someone or something we find dear to us is a huge blow to our hearts."

The half-dwarven princling listened carefully.

"We often seem cold or uncaring to other races, but mostly as we guard our hearts fiercely. For with too many blows, our hearts grow weary of living and we start to dream of the sea. Sailing West. It can happen with loss, or simply over the passage of time."

"So." Kili tried to think it through, finding it difficult as living an immortal live was beyond anything in his experience. "You put up barriers around yourselves so that you don't get so depressed you simply give up and go away."

It was Elladan's turn to stare, slowly he nodded. "That ...is ... maybe a ...little bit right."

Kili frowned sharply. "So. When an elf tells you that they have no barrier in their heart toward you ...then when that person dies, it takes a piece of their heart with them? Bringing them closer to sailing away forever?"

"Or fading away into death from grief." Elladan continued sadly, "Roughly though, you are right. I'd put it more eloquently perhaps. When someone passes over to the afterlife, then the elf left behind is saddened terribly. But when that someone is a person who holds no barriers against your heart, then yes. A piece of you disappears with them."

"And it's worse when someone dies, rather than sailing West. Because if they die, you won't see them again when you take sail." Kili guessed, squinted up at his father as he bit his lower lip. "What exactly is fading?"

"No." Elladan held up his hands. "You should not just hear the bad parts. Having no barriers to your heart means that you are held close to that elf. That you are precious to them. It is a wonderful and treasured sharing between family, friends ...or spouses. It is a beautiful thing."

Kili wasn't deterred. His dark eyes fair burned with the need to have his questions answered. "Fading."

Elladan sighed unhappily, but decided not to evade the question this time. He was trying to get closer to his son for one thing. And the lad deserved to know about what it was like to be an elf. It was part of his bloodline too. "True fading is when an elf becomes so ancient that they become gray and nearly transparent until they simply cease. But that is rare as most choose instead to travel West."

"But you can fade from grief." Kili asked, knowing this was what was explained to him about the reasons his parents had married in the first place. To keep Elladan from fading after the loss of the elf maiden he'd loved. "Rather than sail away, they are so sad that they fade away unto death."

Elladan nodded somberly, acknowledging the comment. "But let us turn to happier topics. Fading is not going to be a problem for you. And today, we need to worry more about getting your gifts ready."

Kili forced a smile and turned to the work before him. Only the gifts for his father and his father's twin were still in his room. He peeked over at Elladan, his smile fading as he saw the elf inspecting the wooden whistle he was about to stain.

Fading from grief. That's what his elvish relatives had been worried about when they'd pressured Elladan into marrying Dis. Obviously when his father's lost lady love had been killed by orcs, she had held no barriers to the elf lord's heart. And with her death, part of his soul had been torn asunder.

Kili's fingers fairly trembled, and he formed fists to regain control. Elladan had not followed after Dis and Fili back then, some because of Dis' words. But some because he was afraid to give any of his remaining heart to mortals. Because he didn't have enough within him to lose anyone more, lest he fade from grief.

Only. Now the elf had a son. Him. And Kili himself was mortal.

The young dwarven prince now licked his lips nervously and he turned his back on his father, trying to hide the aching pain growing within him.

Forgotten was his earlier dissatisfaction with the elf lord who'd sired him. Pushed aside where his feelings of being lesser, or an oddity. Gone. All he could think about right now was the future. His father's future.

A son was not a gift to Elladan. Not a mortal half-dwarven one anyway. It was death.

He, Kili, was a death sentence to his father.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"By the sea and stars, it is good for these eyes to behold you again." Glorfindel smiled widely at the young elf-maid with true fondness. "My Lady Arwen, you grow more lovely every time we meet."

"I'm afraid I don't recall meeting you before." The dark-haired beauty's eyes sparkled and the smile she couldn't hide gave lie to her words.

Glorfindel's hands went to his chest, covering his heart. "You wound me beyond measure, Lady."

"Making me more dangerous than a dragon and a balrog combined I suppose?" Arwen said tartly.

The golden haired warrior laughed, wagging his finger at the she-elf he used to toss into the air as an elfling. "So. You DO remember me?"

"Vaguely." She allowed, then grinned brightly, putting her hand on his forearm while he nodded his head to her. Leaning forward she whispered. "How goes it here?"

Glorfindel's face blanked and then he made a so-so sign with his hand. "Better than when we first arrived, to be sure." Then the golden haired elf straightened as he noted the approach of the stately Lord of Lothlorien. He bowed far more formally, his hand over his heart. "The stars dimmed until we could meet again."

Lord Celeborn eyed the ancient hero with cautious amusement. "Your speech is as flowery as your former house." He said in an oblique reference to Glorfindel's title so long ago.

The one-time head of the House of the Golden Flower pulled a mild face of rebuke. "Your wit is not as bright as your wisdom, that is an old, old line my one time friend."

"One time?" Celeborn's eyebrows rose, waiting.

"We can once more be friends when you come up with new lines." Glorfindel sighed, as if unhappy. "Or you dye your hair golden and join my house."

"You are now the only member of your house. Which makes it not much of a house." The silver-haired Lord of Lorien finally smiled. "I have not missed you."

"Nor I you, my Lord." Glorfindel clapped the silver-haired warrior on the shoulder with no little familiarity. "It has been too long."

Celeborn looked around the hall, his face a mask of disinterest.

Glorfindel looked where the elf lord was looking, as if seeing it all with fresh eyes. "It is amazing how fast they have been repairing the place. Dragons make for a terrible mess." He frowned at his own words. He'd meant them as a joke, but now he was recalling Gondolin in ruins. "At least Erebor has been reclaimed." He said in almost a whisper.

Lord Celeborn paused and nodded, showing his respect for those long gone and the one who still grieved them. "It is far from the same."

Remembering the Songs of the Dead sung by the dwarves, Glorfindel sighed. "I'm not so sure." He smiled weakly then, trying to throw off the old memories. "The wine is better than decent, and there is a sparkling cider that you HAVE to try."

"Have I?"

"Bubbles." Glorfindel's smile turned real and he gestured toward the inner halls of Erebor. "You won't believe it. Bubbles make all the difference."

"Are you two ancient warriors done yet? I have a nephew to meet!" Arwen interrupted, sensing the time was right. Or she was over-eager. Either way, she was ready to move along.

Lord Celeborn of Lorien stilled, taking a deep cleansing breath.

Glorfindel waited. Arwen didn't. The she-elf boldy linked her arm around that of her grand-father's arm. "You promised." She pointedly reminded him.

Celeborn nodded his silver head toward Glorfindel. "He wears his weapon indoors. That is not a good sign."

The golden-haired warrior laughed and shook his head, his good humor restored. "No, no. I wear my sword because the dwarves love it. At first I wore it for proection, of course. Now because the dwarrow warriors are always eager to see her and hear tales older than their kingdom."

Startled, Arwen looked up. "Her?"

"Her." Glorfindel's smile turned sneaky. "Of all the deadly things walking upon Arda, the most dangerous are female."

Celeborn and Arwen both stared at the warrior of old. He grinned wider at the two newcomers. Celeborn turned his eyes on his grand-daughter and she leaned forward. "The balrog you fought was female?"

"Couldn't tell. But I'll always think of her as a bitch. She did kill me after all." Glorfindel winked and walked away.

Arwen wasn't sure if she should believe him or not. She looked up at the placid face of her grand-father. Celeborn sighed. "I think he made that up on the spot. Just for you."

"But you're not sure?"

"I'm may know many things, but the workings of Glorfindel's mind are beyond me." The Lord of Lorien sighed and moved to follow toward the main hall of Erebor.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You are bending my words like green wood." Elladan said irritably, upset over the turn in conversation. When had the two of them taken the wrong turn?

"They're your words." Kili snapped, slamming down the leather tooling stamp harder than necessary. Using such force made his lungs protest and he coughed a few times, but not going into a full spasm. "You said them. I heard them. Now this is me, ignoring them."

The elven father watched with frustrated eyes and sighed. "You should rest." He suggested gently.

"You should mind your own." Kili grumbled, rubbing his fingers over the leather pouch he was decorating as a gift. He frowned. It still didn't feel right. "I disagree with you and suddenly I'm a weak child who needs to be put to bed. Shoddy way to win an argument."

Elladan put down the small wooden whistle he was staining. "All I said was that you carved a nice instrument here and it would make a great gift for a female. I meant it as a compliment!"

Kili peered at the leatherwork in his hands and made a grunt in reply.

"What's wrong with that?" Elladan prodded angrily.

The dark-haired youth rolled his eyes, reaching for a different tool. "Only two females here to give a gift to in the first place. Both elves. When I told you what I'd made for a certain someone, you started wagging your tongue about how old I am and what a more 'appropriate' gift might be."

Elladan looked up at the ceiling, as if hoping to find his patience up there waiting for him. It wasn't. "You are young."

"For an elf." Kili's voice fairly dripped with venom.

The elf lord took a deep breath and shook his head. "You are part elven. Like it or not, you are."

"Oh, I don't like it. I can assure you." The youth snarled, his dark-eyed gaze hot. "You don't even like what I made for the Lady."

Elladan gritted his teeth, trying to rein in his temper. "I did not say that I didn't like it."

"Only that it too is not 'right'." Kili snarled. "Well, they're my gifts! Would you prefer that I switch them? Give Tauriel the ..."

"No!" The elf lord nearly yelled the word. "I didn't mean ..."

Kili drew back, his anger rising higher. "Don't try and take it back. I can tell what you really think."

Elladan held up the whistle and calmed his voice. "This is well crafted and has a beautiful tone. You made it and it's wonderful. Why can't you give it to Tauriel?"

"I made her something else. That whistle is for Gloin. The design etched on it has meaning for him. Not for her. If we're lucky we'll get to hear him play it. He's good with a whistle." Kili's voice was in a husky, snarled tone. "I made it with him in mind."

"The other two whistles?" Elladan asked quietly.

Kili shook his head. "For other dwarrow." His dark eyes narrowed on his father. "Just admit it. You don't want me courting Tauriel."

Elladan threw up his hands in surrender. "I give up. Give her what you want. But jewelry is counted as a courting gift, one that is not the beginning of interest but closer to the making of promises. And you admit that you don't even know what she really thinks of the two of you possibly courting."

"So? What if I want to find out what she thinks?" Kili's chin thrust foward stubbornly. "Or is it that you don't think I'm good enough for her? Being dwarven?"

"Part dwarven." Elladan couldn't stop the words if he'd tried. "Your mother's part."

The prince's dark head straightened and he glared at the elf. "There it is. You don't like me being dwarven. You hate my mother and you hate me, but you're stuck with me!" He knew he was being unfair as he spoke, but Kili couldn't seem to reel himself back in. Today's earlier conversation had left him feeling raw and exposed, hurt. His temper was far too close to the surface right now.

"I don't hate you!"

Dark eyes narrowed dangerously. "But you do hate my Mam?"

Elladan didn't think, he reacted. "Maybe! Yes, maybe I do! She stole you from me. Never even told me that you existed. It's hard to think about what she did and not be angry."

"I'm not angry with her." The words fell between them like a leaf made of metal. Kili glared at his father, implying something dark and ugly. That he wasn't sorry that he'd missed seventy-seven years with the tall elf lord. "Maybe she saved me from a boring life of harp music, trickling fountains and poetry that never says anything! Maybe she left because she felt you were too controlling!"

"I never tried to control your mother!" Elladan looked shocked at the accusation, his own temper close to exploding despite the legendary control of the elves.

"Why not? You're trying to control me!" Kili shouted, his voice breaking and he fell into a full coughing spasm that lasted for several long and painful minutes.

"Kuilaith ..."

It was the wrong name at the wrong time. "GET OUT!" Kili managed to scream, then succumbed to more painful, hacking coughs.

Elladan reached for him, but Kili jerked his arm out of reach and turned away deliberately. Leaving his father to stare at his shaking back, listening to the harsh sounds of his child trying to regain his breathing.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

No spoken word passed between them that Thorin could see. Elves were just wierd.

The king watched the duo from his throne. Not that he was sitting there dressed in his finest leathers waiting for them. This just happened to be what was closest to hand when he'd dressed. And if they were his best leathers, meaning ones not covered in grime and having the fewest mended seams, there was no special reason to be dressed up today. Not for elven visitors certainly. And he wasn't waiting for them. He just happened to be in the throne room when they arrived, that was all.

Okay fine. Lying to yourself was never a good idea. Lord Celeborn had arrived. And unlike the last time elves had ridden up to Erebor to visit, he wasn't covered in the muck and grime of battle. It was just too bad he couldn't find a way to justify wearing the splendid armor made of mithril and gold. It might seem a tad ...aggressive.

Thorin kept his face expressionless as he watched the two greet each other. Inwardly he grimaced though. Lothlorien wasn't a day journey from Erebor. So how could the elves look so free of travel grime and dust? Did elven magic keep grit out of their boots and off of their robes?

For the first time in his life Thorin could appreciate why Thror always dressed up so fussily before receiving visitors. Especially Elven ones. Only, the current King Under the Mountain didn't have the hefty wardrobe that his grandfather had once owned. And there was too much repair work to be done to Erebor to bother with making a wardrobe suitable for his title.

The new King Under the Mountain looked only marginally better dressed than his meanest dwarrow miners. For now.

Oh, he certainly could of bedecked himself with an array of precious metals and stones. Gems so valuable that jaws would have dropped. But Thorin couldn't escape the memories of Thror in the clutches of madness, nor himself either. So he opted to go the other direction. Simple, tasteful jewelry and functional leathers. He did not need to tempt fate, or gold-crazed illness again.

Lord Celeborn had entered, and his eyes had not gone to the obvious place of power. But to a golden haired witch in a lovely gown that skimmed her body to great advantage. Not skin tight, no, nothing so obvious. Just flattering in the extreme.

Husband and wife. Thorin stifled a sigh, wondering how long the two had been married. Surely longer than he, his father, and grandfather had lived. Wouldn't you get tired of another person after such a long time? His breath huffed out lightly. He would gladly leave immortality to the elves. Cold hearted beasts.

Except for Kili, of course.

Thorin shifted in his seat, uncomfortable. Alright. So some elves weren't quite cold hearted. Just look at the twin elf lords, Elladan and Elrohir. Glorfindel was different as well. Even Nuluin had depths that were unexpected. At least Thorin knew he could still detest Thranduil with impunity, even if that particular elven monarch was one he was going to have to deal with a lot.

A murmur of voices drew the king's attention, and that of everyone else. Elladan swept into the throne room, his gray eyes fairly snapping with temper. He stopped and nodded toward his relatives, then shot Thorin a hard look.

The king stiffened. He'd left the elf with Kili, and they'd looked reasonably comfortable together. "Something is wrong with your son?"

"No." Elladan smiled grimly, lifting one eyebrow haughtily. "But it seems your nephew is in a temper."

"He was fine when I took my leave." Needled Thorin.

Elladan drew up, looking ready to explode.

"Son of my daughter?"

The elf lord stilled, then closed his eyes, obviously regaining his composure bit by small bit. He turned and smiled, though the effort took something from him. "My Lord Celeborn. I greet thee with fondness and true joy, it has been over long since the light of the stars has shown me your presence."

"Sweet words and an ill temper." Came the cool and reserved reply. The silver-haired elf blinked slowly, running his eyes up and down the form of his grandchild.

"Elladan?"

At this, the elf lord's tension decreased and he sighed. "Sister. It is good these eyes to see you." He said far more simply, holding out his hand to his younger sibling.

Arwen took his hand gratefully, but looked worried. "Our brother?"

Glorfindel bowed his head slightly as he spoke. "Elrohir will be down apace. He was injured, but moves slowly."

Celeborn's face remained still, almost stoic. But his eyes slid to meet the gaze of his wife. Subtly his shoulders relaxed as if he received some message of support from that quarter.

Arwen though took in a shocked breath, and Elladan quickly reassured her as to Elrohir's injury and that he was healing. He then outlined the injury to Erebor's crown prince, and also to his son.

"So we can't meet them tonight?" Arwen seemed terribly disappointed.

Elladan shrugged and shook his head. "Perhaps tonight is not the best night for that. Fili was asleep when I last looked in on him, and Kuilaith ..." He grimaced.

Balin cracked a smile. "Lad as a huge temper, proud and all. But he rarely holds onto his temper for long. Nary a grudge out of that one. Fili on the other hand is slower to anger, but that anger can burn far longer and far brighter."

Thorin shot an ill look at his counselor. Balin raised his eyebrows in innocence.

Celeborn looked up at the throne, and Erebor's king. He looked back around him with care. His perusal far from casual. By his side, Galadriel said not a word.

"Greetings to Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien." King Under the Mountain Thorin tried his damnedest not to sound as if strangling on a lemon. "Erebor welcomes you and yours." There. That was as flowery as he was willing to go.

Celeborn paused before nodding his head. A pause just long enough to call into question his desire to be there, but not long enough to give actual offense. Thorin bit back a growl, ruthlessly trying to keep a strong rein on his own temper.

"Your welcome is appreciated." Celeborn said with silky smoothness. "Although from what I understand, under duress?"

Elladan shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Please." He said in a near whisper.

Thorin sneered, but quickly pulled his face back into a dour look he'd seen on his grandfather's face far too many times. "Your understanding is without parallel." He responded, meeting the challenge but trying not to slide into open verbal sparring.

Lord Celeborn actually opened his mouth, then stopped.

Thorin blinked and then suddenly realized that Galadriel's hand was upon her husband's arm. Only. He hadn't seen her move. And he'd been watching carefully. The dwarven king sighed. "Perhaps in light of Kili not feeling well, we should sit for dinner. Leave introductions until tomorrow."

Celeborn looked at his wife's eyes, as if somehow communing with her. Finally he tilted his head, letting his silver hair gleam in the torch light. "Perhaps that would be wise."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say that this chapter was crazy hard to write? Whatever I had planned, fell through. Whatever I wrote, sounded stale. Thorin wanted to talk to Kili, so did Elladan. So. NEXT chapter is where Celeborn meets the newest addition to the family. Cuz plot bunnies hate me (at least they did this past week).


	19. In which Kili takes a bath

"You mistake my meaning." Lord Celeborn's dinner plate sat in front of him at the table, barely touched.

King Thorin arched a questioning eyebrow, looking achingly superior. "Inaction is as telling as action."

"Or could refer to contemplation, decision making, and weighing the consequences most carefully." The silver-haired woodland lord said quietly, yet with the full arrogance of his race.

Thorin drew back, acting a bit shocked as he deliberately widened his piercing blue eyes. "Really? It took the Dwarves less than a minute to realize that a dragon was a menace that needed to be dealt with. Not over a hundred and seventy years to ...think it over first."

Celeborn put down his eating utensils, his grayish-blue eyes snapping with indignation. "We were not the ones attacked. Truly, in Lothlorien, we did not hear about the dreadful business until it was all over and ..."

"And I'm sure you grieved." Thorin stabbed the roasted pork tenderloin with his fork with perhaps a touch too much force, emphasizing his point as he rudely interrupted.

Arwen meticulously cut her own meat, and glanced up through her long dark lashes at her grand-mother. Galadriel caught her look, and gave a small smile of encouragement. Both elven ladies ignored the sniping argument between the two male rulers.

The beautiful she-elf looked back down at her plate and contemplated a perfectly baked ...something. The delicate aroma of nutmeg was delicious though. Yet, she didn't know what was in the dish. Looking beside her, Arwen leaned over toward the white bearded dwarf beside her. "Good Master Dwarf?"

Balin flushed. He couldn't help it. There was just something about the Lady Arwen. Yes, perhaps Galadriel was a bit more beautiful, but the Lady of Light was like a living star, unapproachable even when seemed welcoming. Her presence a near tangible thing. Arwen was different. Beautiful beyond measure, but a gentler and far more accessible presence. "My lady?" He cleared his throat, not liking sounding like a dwarfling with a crush. "May I help you?"

"I am unsure of what this dish might be."

From the other side of her, an amused chuckle beat Balin's response. Bofur leaned forward most helpfully. "It's a salad. A proper salad at that. Nothing green."

Balin closed his eyes in consternation and embarrassment. "She knows that! She's asking what components might be involved in the making of the dish!"

Arwen's dark eyes twinkled with merriment as she nodded in agreement with the white-bearded dwarf.

"Ah!" Bofur smiled most happily. "Turnips with butternut squash and fish. I know it sounds an odd combination, but Bombur is a deft hand with a good turnip."

Arwen didn't even hesitate, nor did she take a small bite, but boldly speared several pieces for tasting. Balin watched her, and when the she-elf's face lit up, so did his own. "Delicious! Does this Bombur love turnips so much then?"

From her other side, Bofur laughed and snorted with a mockingly sad shake of his head. "My brother detests turnips. So he finds as many ways as to make them palatable as possible."

Arwen smiled prettily, but shrugged. "Why does he not just avoid eating them then?"

Both Bofur and Balin laughed at that thought, but it was Balin who spoke first. "Oh my dear. Bombur? Pass up on something edible? Never. He'll go to great lengths to find a way to make it better tasting, however."

Bofur nodded enthusiastically, the flaps on his rather odd looking hat echoing his movements.

Arwen forked up some more of the mixture and ate it happily. "Well, since we are the beneficiaries then I will certainly not complain." He is certainly a fine chef.

"Oh." Bofur's face turned solemn, though his eyes still sparked with good humor. "Bombur is no chef. Not a craft master for food. He's a clear, good hand with the workings of the forges though. That's his specialty."

"Not a chef?" The beauteous elf stilled, surprised. "Truly not? But this is so very good."

Balin and Bofur shared a preening sort of proud look between them, both blushing slightly. "We'll be sure to pass along your compliments."

"Please do. And if this is the type of food he serves as a non-chef, I hesitate to ask what beautiful works his forges must create." Arwen supplied, her words quite sincere.

Bofur's blush intensified and Balin felt nearly giddy as they urged her to try a bit more of the tenderloin, but to save room for the pumpkin cheese bites.

Unfortunately, their words were interrupted as Thorin's voice became raised. All three turned to look back at the impending storm of Elven and Dwarven relationships.

"Honor is built on actions, not a large vocabulary." Thorin ground out the words roughly.

"And if you have possession of neither?" Came the silkily bland rejoinder from the silver-haired elf.

Thorin ignored the sting of the comment and grinned, but there was nothing friendly or humorous in the facial expression. "Then you take over a hundred and seventy years to try and come up with something intelligent to say. Or something that might sound like intelligence but is really there to obfuscate."

Lord Celeborn drew back as if scenting something foul, the very picture of Elvish disdain.

Thorin leaned forward. "Obfuscate means to becloud, as in during communication." He told the taller elf with great mocking 'help'.

"Communication." Harrumphed Elladan who had not spoken a word throughout the entire dinner thus far. "Not a Dwarven forte."

Elrohir frowned at his twin brother, clearly worried. "Sons who are nearly of age often have arguments with their parents."

Elladan looked up, widening his eyes helplessly. "I'm not even really sure what the argument was about! There was no cause!"

"Do dwarves need a cause to argue?" Celeborn inserted the question deliberately, though not looking in Thorin's direction.

The Dwarven king smiled grimly. "Yes. We need a cause and a reason, but I don't expect elves to understand …at least not for nearly two centuries when the elven scholars finally 'discover' the actual reason. And when they do, they'll write a book on it and then we poor dwarves will finally know WHY we were arguing two centuries before. Helpful thing, scholars."

"Only if dwarves actually read the book." Celeborn picked up his wine with lazy grace, sipping delicately.

Arwen frowned over at the Lord of Lothlorien as he looked down his nose quite literally at the King Under the Mountain. And then winced as Thorin sneered most impressively in obvious derision. "Oh dear."

Galadriel smiled at them all. "Never mind them dear. Elves or Dwarves it seems they are the same. The males all feel the need to measure …." Balin paled as he listened. "Their egos."

Bofur laughed loudly as Balin now reddened full in the face.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

If empty and lost were emotions, Kili figured he was feeling them. Pacing his room had quickly gotten old. His dark eyes avoided the night table and the accursed gifts he'd been working on, but it didn't help. He knew what was there.

With a stout curse, Kili picked up the items he'd been working on for Tauriel and Galadriel. Feeling sick to his stomach he dropped them in the empty waste bin. He then peered more closely at the gifts he was currently working on for his Dwarven friends. Maybe he needed to throw out the gifts for the other Elves too. Family. What a laugh.

Family. The young prince groaned, looking up at the ceiling. When had family been a word that went from comfort and love to guilt, grief and pain?

All his life he'd yearned to know who is father was. Now that he did? He wished he didn't. No. Damn it. But he did wish that it wasn't Elladan. Kili frowned, rubbing his forehead. Well, maybe Elladan was alright some of the time. But why did he have to be an elf?

"What in the name of Mahal were these people thinking?" Kili said through clenched teeth. "Sure. Marry an Elf to a Dwarf. Expect it to work. Idiots. The only way this works is if you want to start a war and kill off a few important members of both races. Durin's Line. Elrond's family. That's the only possible result!"

Suddenly, Kili stopped in the middle of the room. Stunned. Repeating his words to himself over and over again. For the life of him, he couldn't see any other probable outcome.

But. But, but, but. Kili's mind raced, his eyes vacant as he stared at the wall lost in his thoughts. Saruman the White. Wise. Elrond. Wise. Thror. Kili's mouth twisted, well the dwarven king had been known for wisdom earlier in his reign at least.

Sauron ... The Deceiver. Manipulator. Hiding behind the scenes since his defeat so long ago. Hadn't he tricked the elven-smiths into forging rings of power? Frowning, Kili couldn't recall what Balin had tried to teach him and his brother about this subject.

Impulsively Kili threw on his leathers, not bothering to fasten all the clips and clasps. He glanced around for his boots, but didn't see them immediately. It didn't stop him. He pushed open his door and marched across the hallway in his thick and mismatched socks. The door to Fili's room was closed. Without thought, Kili walked right in.

A male elf that Kili only vaguely recognized as one of the healers looked up, his eyes going wide at the sight of the dwarf prince. "You're not supposed to be in here."

"Last elf who got snarly with me lost his hair." Kili threw out the words in irritation, sticking out his chin stubbornly.

The elven healer paused, and then stepped in his way coolly. "No. He was shamed because he didn't do his job. My job is to heal both you and your brother. Prince Fili is highly susceptible to infection." The elf leveled a determined look onto Kili. "You are a walking body full of infection right now."

"I'm fine." Kili dropped his gaze, but didn't back away as he muttered. "Fever's down."

The healer looked at the dark-eyed prince's color and shook his head. "Down, but hardly gone. And every time you cough you spread possible infection to those who are weakened right now."

Kili's determination fled and his face went ashen white. Every time he coughed? Which was practically all the time. He backed up, even though his eyes slid behind the healer to his brother. The need to speak with Fili was a near tangible thing.

Fili's blue eyes watched him, his hand raised, almost as if reaching for him. Kili swallowed hard, wanting to run to his side. "But ..."

The healer's voice gentled. "You're healing quickly, it shouldn't be long before you can visit him. And Prince Fili is doing well."

"I want to see him." Fili called out, his voice pained and hoarse even as his hand fell back down to the mattress.

Kili's heart broke and melted all over the place at the weak volume of his usually strong brother. His knees shook and his lungs caught. Suddenly he felt the need to cough. Panicked, Kili turned and fled out the door and into the hallway before his body began to shake and cough wretchedly.

Dimly, as his lungs finally settled, Kili felt the gentle hand of the healer on his back and arm. Helping to steady him. He looked up and met the cool hazel eyes of the elf, and found cautious sympathy. "You don't hate me?"

Surprise. The healer cocked his head slightly and then gave a rueful smile. "You are not to blame for the actions, words or thoughts of others. You did not cause Trenien's loss of pride. He did."

"Trenien." Kili repeated, realizing this must be the name of the healer whose braid was back in his room.

"You should lay down, rest. Recover. All the sooner will you be able to visit with your sibling."

Kili shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and then back again. Clearly he was weighing heavy thoughts within his mind. Finally he shrugged. "Can I stand at the door and ask him a question?"

The healer hesitated, then made an offer. "What if I relay your question to the prince, and return the answer to you?"

Kili thought that over distastefully, but figured it was a fair enough offer. And the information he wanted wasn't secret. He nodded quickly, holding up three fingers. "I need to know who created the rings of power." He put down one finger. "And how did Sauron trick the elves into making them and why."

The healer looked at the last finger Kili still had held up. "You have another question to add?"

The dark-eyed prince looked down at his remaining digit in a small hiccup of memory, then grinned. "That last one was really two questions. How and Why." Kili put his hand down and fairly bounced on his toes, the well-warmed healing halls not bothering his feet even without his fur lined boots on.

The healer stared at Kili in wonder.

The young heir nodded his head at Fili's room. "You said you would."

The healer sighed. "I was thinking more in the lines of questions with simple answers. Like yes, no and perhaps."

Kili's smile dimmed slightly, but he managed a shrug. "You still said you would. Offered. I didn't ask it of you."

"You did not, indeed." The healer shook his head. "Your brother is an expert in this area?"

Shocked, Kili's eyes widened as he offered a giggle. "Hardly. But he generally pays more attention when we were learning our subjects than I did."

"I see." The healer sighed and returned a weaker shadow of a smile. "Then perhaps I should offer that the Rings of Power were crafted by the elvin-smiths of Eregion, with Celebrimbor as their leader."

Kili's eyebrows furrowed and he looked confused for a second or two.

The healer shook his head. "That was back in the Second Age. But if you want to know more, perhaps the Lady of Light would be your best source. Since she wears one of the Elvish Rings of Power. Nenya." Kili was still staring. The healer looked unsure, and added an explanation. "Nenya is the Ring of Adamant. It deals with protection." When Kili still did not respond, the elf held up his hands in surrender. "Best to seek answers from the Lady herself."

"I heard that Celebrimbor was deemed wise." The dark-eyed prince finally found his voice, even if it was a hesitantly offered statement that could also pose as a question.

The healer bowed his head. "Indeed."

"So how did Sauron deceive him so? Into making the rings, I mean?" Kili asked, burning up with the need to know.

The healer frowned and shook his head. "Too lengthy a lesson for a drafty hallway and I need to change the dressings on your brother's wounds."

Disappointed, Kili's face wiped clear of expression.

The healer grimaced and shrugged. "I can come and share what information I know following dinner. Or perhaps there are some history books in Erebor?"

Kili's face brightened once more. "Library! There's a library that the damned dragon didn't torch."

The healer smiled and waved at Kili's feet. "Perhaps a quiet and brief visit to Erebor's library would be the very thing to relieve you of your lassitude. Gather your boots and make a foray below stairs to retrieve something to read. It might help you feel a bit better to be thusly occupied."

Kili grinned and took off down the hallway, almost loping in his hurry. The elf stared after the prince's retreating back with no little consternation. "I meant AFTER you put on your boots."

"Is my brother alright?"

The healer turned around and looked back into Fili's room, finding the blond's piercingly blue eyes staring right at him. "Aye, he is. But moving too fast to bother even putting on his boots before going to the library."

Fili chuckled weakly, grimacing as his hand went to his chest as aches rocketed through him as if a reminder that he shouldn't do that. "It wouldn't be the first time he was in such a hurry that he forgot to …wait … Library?"

"He has some questions on Middle Earth history."

Fili's eyes widened even further at that nonsensical explanation. "Library? History? Kili? Really? Of his own accord?"

The healer smiled ruefully. "The prince did mention that you usually paid more attention to your lessons than he did."

Stiffly, Fili nodded, even as his mind raced. "Library." He muttered the word to himself, puzzled.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"And where were you two? Missing dinner and obviously up to schemes and other plots."

Tauriel and Ori both turned to look at the speaker, but with vastly different responses. The young dwarf shrugged, unabashed. The red-haired she-elf had a rather blank expression.

Until they saw who was standing next to Glorfindel.

The former captain of the Mirkwood elves dropped her head into a deep bow of apology, while Ori simply stared.

Arwen smiled at them, unsure. They'd left Thorin and Celeborn who were now coldly ignoring each other between subtle insults and some rather fine orange melomel. Galadriel was sitting between them, silent and unperturbed. "That looks interesting." She pointed at the boards that each was holding.

Tauriel's head lifted. She had indicated the High Elf was of a greater rank, but she wasn't one to linger in abasement. Silven elves were no less proud than their kin. She lifted the game board and tilted her head marginally toward Ori. "A gift for the two princes. One for each, so they can play each other."

Arwen's eyes lit up with delight. "Oh! So someone could tell each of them how the other moved?"

Ori blushed and nodded, finding his tongue. "It's a rather simple game, but with loads of variations. You see, you start with only six pieces each. But you have the potential for adding twenty-four more. But you can only add a piece when you reach a midstem. Unless your opponent has occupied the opposite midstem space on the board. Each piece has different rules for movement, of course, so you have to be very careful."

Glorfindel nodded and pointed at the darkened circles on the board. "Those are the midstem spaces?"

Ori nodded with enthusiasm, holding up his work for better inspection. "Only if you have more pieces on the board at the time, otherwise they are lowstem spaces. And if you're on one of them when it changes over, your opponent gets an extra move."

Glorfindel blinked and nodded, although a bit slow. "Does this game have a name?"

Ori nodded eagerly, his mouth opening and then he froze, his eyes wide. He closed his mouth, shot a glance at Tauriel and blushed.

The red-head smiled at him. "The name is in Khuzdul?"

Ori firmed his lips and shrugged helplessly. Dwarves didn't speak their language in front of outsiders.

Arwen understood the dilemma immediately and nodded. "We won't press you, but does the name translate into Common?"

Ori took a deep breath, looking toward the ceiling, finally he grimaced. "Roughly it could be called 'Cloudyhead' I suppose."

Glorfindel nodded and gave a rueful half-smile. "Fitting. I feel 'cloudy-headed just trying to listen to the rules."

Ori smiled hesitantly at each of the elves. "You don't play games?" He asked.

The ancient golden-haired warrior shrugged. "Chess." He admitted.

"Oh!" Ori grinned. "That's good then. It's a good beginning. We start playing chess as dwarflings before moving on to ….er, Cloudyhead."

Glorfindel blinked, taken aback by chess being called 'a good start'. "Perhaps I shall accompany you to visit the princes, and perhaps begin to learn this …game."

Arwen fairly vibrated with excitement. "I as well! Oh please! I really want to meet my nephew."

"Nephews." Glorfindel corrected. "Elladan apparently officially adopted young Fili when he was four."

Ori looked intensely startled and Arwen asked him if anything was wrong. The young dwarf shook his head and denied any problem. "It's just, still so difficult to absorb sometimes. Kili being Kuilaith, having new relatives."

"It is rather a significant change in family dynamics." Glorfindel said, twisting his mouth humorously. "But I don't know if today will be the best day for you to meet either nephew. Fili is healing, and Kuilaith is apparently in a foul mood according to your brother."

Arwen smiled very brightly.

Tauriel blinked, a bit confused. "Kili argued with his father?"

Glorfindel pulled a sharp frown and nodded. "Elladan was highly agitated throughout dinner. He turned and winked at the Lady Arwen, not able to keep the frown on his face well.

Tauriel and Ori shared a look as well, both at a loss. "You …seem ….almost happy about that." The she-elf could not help but point out.

Arwen took pity upon them both. "My brother has been cold for decades now. Living and breathing, but bothered by nothing. Stuck. To see him animated, even in confusion and agitation is …." She smiled, trying to search for just the right word.

"Grand." Glorfindel offered for her. "It's grand."

Arwen nodded and shrugged lightly. "Although I would love to see him happy again."

Ori smiled shyly at the pretty new she-elf. "I hope it works as well, my Lady. Kili is a good sort. All this ill-temper, it's just not him normally."

"With a name like Kuilaith, that stands to reason." Arwen linked her arm with Ori's, making him straighten up to his full height. Not that it did him much good, but he couldn't seem to help himself. He seemed to sense that he was being watched though. Ori looked around and stilled as he saw the implacable face of Dwalin, watching. Unamused. "Come, lead on good Master Dwarf."

Dwalin, from his place standing next to the hallway leading back to the dining room, just stared. Ori, not sure what to do, smiled wanly and led the elves up the stairs toward the healing halls.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili looked up at the huge bookshelves gracing the overly large room with an overwhelming sense of being in trouble. The bookshelves were tiered, with walkways, ladders and stairs. All easily accessible. But there were so many books! He whimpered and ran a hand through his loose hair. "Where to start?"

For lack of a plan Kili held up his lantern and grunted to see the clever pulley system of lights hanging over head. Unlit. Unused in nearly two centuries. For all he knew one touch would send the whole contraption down on his poor head. "Not a good idea." He muttered to himself, spying an open arched doorway.

Peeking inside he nearly cried. More books and shelves. But in here the lighting system had indeed crashed to the floor. Though from the thick dust on top of it, that had been done in antiquity. Several more archways connected the rooms and Kili was getting depressed just suspecting there would be even more books.

"No wonder Ori was going on and on about the library." The dark-haired prince sighed despondently. And with the mines and indeed the entire kingdom in need of repair, this piece of it was not high on the priorities list.

Kili looked around and around, completely at a loss as to where to start. He walked randomly over to the nearest books shelves, perusing the titles. Only they were covered with a thick grimy dust and he couldn't read them. What had Ori said about the library? Starting to clean it in his spare time.

"Okay." Kili wandered back to the first room. "Right." He saw a cleared off table and several rags. Signs of industry and stacks of dust-free books. The young prince picked up two of them, scanning the titles. Treatises from Durin VI. Books on engineering and mining techniques. Water treatment. Plumbing. Disease prevention. Kili snorted, flipping through that one and seeing it had to do with the importance of keeping a clean water supply. He frowned. Nothing on history, especially Elvish.

"Damn it!"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Arwen couldn't hide her disappointment as she sat next to the bed, running her hand over the covers.

Tauriel sat the game board on a small table that Glorfindel had fetched for them, dragging it close to Fili's bed. Ori fussed and set up the small polished stones of differing colors onto the board.

Fili ignored them all, quietly breathing in his sleep. The healer apologized, telling them that the young blond had been in some pain and the medication had put him out for a while.

Making their leave, they headed across the hall, knocking on Kili's door. Glorfindel's eyebrow raised at the lack of response. "Ignoring us."

"Or thinks it's someone he doesn't want to see." Ori piped up.

"Asleep perhaps." Tauriel commented, her hand moving to the door handle. She looked inside, and then opened the door wider. "Or not here."

Arwen leaned forward, peering over Tauriel's shoulder. "Where is he?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elladan toyed with his drink, not tasting it.

Elrohir sat beside his twin, silently supporting his sibling. He looked up as Dwalin walked into the room again. The tattooed warrior's eyes lingered on Elladan for a long moment, but he made no comment.

The area was basically quiet now. Celeborn and Thorin were arguing the merits of melomel versus metheglin, but not loudly.

Dwalin's left eye twitched as he listened to the two for a moment, then looked back at the twin elven warriors. "They do know that they are arguing about two different styles of mead?"

Elrohir nodded. "Apples and oranges."

Dwallin sighed. "An old dwarven saying, that arguing apples over oranges is moot as it all comes down to personal taste."

Elladan's lips tilted upwards slightly. "We have a similar saying. But what my brother means is that they are arguing over mead made with apples, against mead made with oranges. Apples and oranges. Literally."

A surprised grunt from Dwalin had both brothers sighing in agreement.

Balin walked in but a moment later, smiling benignly at them all. "Have any of you seen Kili?"

Elladan blinked and looked up, frowning. "Not since before dinner."

"The necessity?" Elrohir guessed, speaking of the lavatory. Erebor's plumbing was old and in need of repair. But still functional, a testimony to dwarven ingenuity and craftsmanship.

Balin shook his head. "The other medic from Mirkwood said that Kili was heading to the library for a book. But that was a while ago and the lad hasn't returned."

"Perhaps he just needed some time and space to calm down." Galadriel turned toward them with her comment, sliding a glance over at her daughter's sons.

Elladan winced at the memory of his earlier argument. "I wasn't trying to rile him. I complimented a gift he was working on. Made a suggestion, that's all."

Dwalin frowned. "Ori and the two elven lasses went up to visit the lads only a few moments ago."

Lord Celeborn moved slightly, annoyed that he had not realized that Arwen had left the room.

"They're the ones who asked me if I knew where Kili had gotten to." Balin shrugged. "And the medic said that the lad was asking questions on history." He paused, eyes on the elven twins. "Your history."

Elladan looked startled. "Our?" He turned a skeptical glance over at his sibling.

Elrohir shook his head, rejecting the thought. "Not ours personally, I'm sure." He turned and looked at his grandparents. "Perhaps theirs."

"Elvish history." Balin clarified with a look of quick apology, quickly moving on and ignoring Thorin's dark scowl. "I looked into the main library room but didn't see him. He didn't answer when I called either."

Celeborn glanced over at the dwarven ruler. "Is he in the habit of running off?" His tone hinted at his disapproval.

"No." Thorin barked, affronted for his nephew's sake.

Dwalin made a disagreeing sound, pulling the ire of his liege lord. He shrugged at Thorin. "Kili has at times gone out hunting to calm his temper when in need, alone and without notifying anyone. But he has enough sense not to go out at night, with orcs, wargs and goblins out there. While sick."

Balin nodded. "Aye, the lad may be some reckless, but not like that."

Celeborn frowned. "Reckless?" He picked out the word with impeccable skill.

Thorin frowned. "Young, impetuous. Eager to prove himself. Not stupid." He deliberately pushed away the memory of his youngest nephew running straight toward the three large trolls before Thorin himself could give the signal to attack. He wasn't about to admit that in front of the elves. Especially the silver-haired one sitting across the table from him.

Balin held out his hands. "I think the lad is in the library. The books Ori and I stacked are all in disarray and dust has been disturbed. But the Library of Erebor isn't in just one room. There are sections. Only, I can't remember exactly where the books are on Elvish history.

Celeborn seemed surprised to hear of the extensive nature of the kingdom's library collection. "It's that large?"

"Large enough." Thorin admitted dryly. "But ignored and in disrepair. At least Smaug didn't flame it."

The tall silver-haired elf stood. "I don't mind searching the library. It should be …interesting."

Balin hesitated. Then smiled wanly, trying to dissuade the elf lord. "The library is in serious disrepair and not high on the list of our priorities. Extremely dusty and the lighting system isn't functional."

"Knowledge is low on your priorities?" Celeborn asked, clearly surprised.

"Basic plumbing, safety of the walls and floors, stairs, kitchens, foods, healing halls and the basic necessities first. The lives of my people are the highest priority. Books? Important, but not before I make sure I make sure no one falls ill because the plumbing isn't functioning properly. Plus? Without the mines checked out, they can't be worked. Without the ores we can't repair what will be needed."

Thorin sounded tired all of a sudden, no longer taking pleasure in needling Celeborn.

Hearing the change, and the words. The tall elf lord bowed deeply toward Thorin. "You are entirely correct in this assessment, and I am sorrowed to hear my own words. My apologies."

Thorin managed a nod before he could think about it. "What do you need, Balin?"

The white-haired advisor pointed at Dwalin. "Lanterns and someone who knows the library. It's been too long, I no longer recall which section held the books on Elvish history."

"Well, I don't remember." Dwalin protested, even as he moved toward his brother. "Lanterns I can fetch."

Thorin stood, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter which section is needed. Kili has never lived at Erebor. He won't be familiar with the library either."

"We should be able to follow the trail in the dust, if it's as heavy as you say." Celeborn stated his thought out loud.

Balin eyed the pristine robes of the Lord of Lothlorien, his own thoughts plain on his face.

Galadriel smiled. "We live in the woods, we have no fear of getting dirty."

Thorin sighed. "Using elven magic to keep clean is cheating."

Celeborn actually laughed and the dwarves all turned to stare at him. "It's not magic. But I remember when these two," he pointed at Elladan and Elrohir. "Said something similar to their own father."

Elrohir cracked a smile, but Elladan was moving toward the door. "What if he's not in the library anymore?"

"Then that will be one place less to look." Thorin commented as the group moved out of the dining room.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Lad! Lad? You up there? Where have you been?"

Kili startled awake, his back against the bookshelf while he was seated on the floor of the third floor walkway. Still sleepy, he reached to rub his eyes but stopped just in time as he remembered how grimy his hands were. Grimacing he blinked several times and stood, peering down at the circles of light below him. "Uncle Thorin?"

"Your lantern is low on fuel." Dwalin pointed and Kili looked, sure enough his light source was a bit on the weak side at the moment.

"Fell asleep." He yawned, proving his point. "Sorry."

"Missed your dinner."

"Not hungry."

"Late for your next mustard plaster." Balin pointed up at him.

Kili grimaced. "I'm going to smell like mustard for a month as it is. It's in my pores. I'll have to shave my chest just to get rid of the stench." He looked down, counting noses and lanterns. With a frown he realized it wasn't just his dwarven family waiting for him down there.

"Get your fool self down here." Thorin demanded crossly.

Kili frowned, looking around himself. He'd pulled several books out, but none were on the subject he was looking for. Still, he figured he was getting closer. These were written in Elvish at least. Grabbing a couple of the bigger tomes, he theorized that the thicker books would be more likely to be histories.

Thorin's frown turned into a fully fledged scowl as Kili fairly flew down the rather steep stairs from the upper bookshelves. "Don't break your fool neck." He growled. "Slow down."

The dark-haired prince, covered in grime and dirt, slid down the last few stair steps. Windmilling his arms, he dropped two of the books but at least caught his balance.

"Child! Where are your boots? You could really have hurt yourself." Elladan looked as cross as Thorin did, drawing looks from all of the other elves present.

"Am fine." Kili mumbled, embarrassed. He looked around. Great. Everyone. Plus a few. He peered at the tall silver-haired elf suspiciously. "You the great-grand-da that I'm supposed to be patient with?"

Tauriel closed her eyes as if in pain at hearing such a casual form of address to the High Elf Lord.

But for some reason, this only served to amuse Lord Celeborn. "I am indeed he."

"Don't look old, but you sound it." Muttered Kili darkly, then glancing at the dark haired beauty standing next to Tauriel. "Aunt?"

Arwen grinned so wide that Kili was surprised it didn't hurt as she reached out and grabbed his hand, fairly pulling him into her. The young princling made a strangled sound of amazement, but submitted rather than face the indignity of fighting back.

"Sister!" Elladan sounded shocked, although watching with what he could only identify as true jealousy. "Don't scare him off!"

"Nonsense." Arwen smiled, patting Kili on the back as she loosened her hold but didn't let him go. "I've been watching the dwarves and they touch each other constantly, it seems important to them. Not like our rules on personal space."

Celeborn shook his head, then stopped as Balin chuckled. "Lass has the right of it. Though we don't usually go around grabbing each other like that."

Ori held up one finger. "Actually, we do when closely related. Dori and Nori do it to me all the time."

Dwalin sighed. "She is his father-sister. Not unheard of at all, though I might have waited until you'd actually said hello to the lad first, lass."

Arwen gave him one last squeeze, nearly a cuddle and let him go. Kili stared at her as if she were some wild new creature he'd just discovered, ready to run if she made a move toward him again. She smiled at him mischievously, "hello."

"Hello." He echoed back automatically. Then Kili slid his gaze cautiously over to the Lady of Light. "You two really are related."

Elrohir smiled at the rather guarded tone of his nephew's voice. "How so?" He asked, even as he stooped down to pick up one of the dropped books.

"She put me to sleep without asking when I first met her." Kili pressed his lips together. "Actually she sang to me before introducing herself."

Celeborn looked at his wife, and she looked back. Whatever they said to each other, it went unspoken to the group around them. But the silver-haired elven leader nodded in acknowledgement.

Elrohir frowned at the book title and handed it over to his twin brother with a telling look. Elladan's expression didn't change as he read the spine, then flipped open the rather thick tome.

"Come. You need to get back to your room. Some dwarves went to a lot of trouble to find that dried mustard just for you." Thorin clapped Kili on the shoulder, then frowned at the grime now covering his hand. "You need a wash now."

Elladan held up the tome he was holding. "Some light reading?"

Kili's shoulders slumped and he shrugged. "I can barely string two sentences together in Sindarin."

"What were you looking for?" Elrohir asked curiously.

Kili flushed and shook his head, his dark eyes studiously avoiding catching anyone's gaze. "History."

"This is a copy of the history of dwarves and their awakening?" The elvish father asked without actually asking.

"Really?" Kili frowned, shaking his head. "No." But he did not elaborate. He pointed at the book. "It's in strange runes and I couldn't really read it."

"Cirth, actually. Runic language of the elves."

Celeborn's eyes grew intrigued as he reached for the tome. Flipping through it, he seemed to almost hum with interest. "I had a copy of this once. Not sure where it went."

Thorin drew up, anger spiking instantly. "We did not steal it!"

The silver-haired elf immediately shook his head. "No, no. This is a different binding altogether. I did not intend to imply otherwise. And it's inscribed. A gift from Oropher to one of your kings."

Elladan visibly startled. "Oropher? He was no friend to the dwarves."

Celeborn sighed and closed the book almost sadly. "No. And I'm sure that this 'gift' was meant as a warning. It's a pointed and yet veiled reference to a great dwarven loss. Not well done of Oropher."

Kili looked lost and Tauriel leaned in toward him. "King Thranduil's father." The young prince's face lightened in understanding.

"If this history is not what you were after, perhaps we could help you find what you needed?" Celeborn put the book down on one of the nearby tables, disturbing the thick dust time had put there.

Kili considered it, but wasn't ready to share his thoughts just yet and shook his head. Maybe if everyone wasn't standing around staring at him.

"I would be more than happy to help you look for anything you're interested in learning." Elladan offered quietly, clearly unsure of the reception his offer would receive.

But Kili's temper, although a tangible thing earlier, had run its course. He was still not in a good place as far as his father was concerned, but the rage had lessened considerably. "Maybe." He finally answered, if a bit reluctantly. "But I give the gifts I want to give." He avowed, disregarding the fact that he'd already thrown two of them away. He could still get them back.

Elladan weighed his options and realized he had none. To fight this fight again would only hurt his cause. "Of course."

"What's wrong with Kili's gifts?" Dwalin grumbled, glaring at the elvish father.

"Nothing. Beautiful work. But there are cultural differences between our races. What means something to one, means something else to the other." Elladan shrugged helplessly.

Kili's lips pressed together mulishly. "Put it like that, and you make me look an idiot."

Elladan's gray eyes closed, desperately holding onto his temper.

Arwen whistled suddenly, the sound echoing off the stone walls of the library. "Argue later. And no one is trying to make anyone look bad. Both sides of this new family are going to have to adjust to differences."

Elrohir smiled and shook his head. "She grew up when I wasn't looking, didn't she?" He looked toward his mother's mother.

Galadriel smiled. "No. She's always been as smart as she is beautiful. It is you who has grown up enough to realize it. Finally."

Elrohir groaned and everyone laughed, even the dwarves.

"Come." Thorin picked up his lantern to lead the way out of this section of the mountain's library. He paused, getting something of a shock as he looked up at a barely visible portrait. He held up his light, straining to see the painting beneath the hundred and seventy year accumulation of dust, dirt and grime.

Everyone else stopped, looking where the king has his gaze. Celeborn grunted lightly. "King Thror? At least I think so."

"Yes." Thorin admitted, swallowing hard.

"How can you tell?" Elladan turned his head back and forth, trying to get a better angle.

"Memory." Thorin sighed, his voice gravelly with remorse. "I can recall when it was painted and freshly hung. I'd …forgotten."

A sudden bark of a cough from Kili spoiled the solemnity of the moment, and Thorin turned with instant concern.

The dark-haired prince waved at his uncle as if to assure him that he was fine, but the coughing turned into a full hacking spasm of his lungs.

Arwen looked concerned, obviously wanting to help. "We need to get him back upstairs."

Kili shook his head, holding one hand to his mouth and the other wrapping across his aching chest. Without his boots, his socks slid on the carpet which was covered in dust. Kili didn't fall hard, really. Just plopped down onto his rear end to draw his knees up to his chest, trying to catch his breath.

But the dust was thick and already disturbed. Clouds of the awful stuff wafted up and surrounded his face. The spasm intensified and the sound of Kili trying to breathe worsened horribly. His face was mottled and red, and beneath it his wide eyes started to take on a panicked aspect.

Dwalin and Elrohir bumped into each other in an effort to reach Kili first. But it was Elladan that scooped him up like a child. He looked to Thorin who immediately took off at a run for the main entrance to the library.

Elrohir yelled from behind them. "Steam! Is there a fire in the healing hall that can get some good steam going?"

Dwalin grunted. "Not quick enough. Herbs!"

Kili was close to passing out, straining to breathe and with spots floating in front of his eyes.

Thorin turned his head toward one of his oldest and dearest friends, his strong right arm. "Get the herbs, we're going to the pools!"

Dwalin grunted and took off at a sprint, Elrohir right on his heels.

Elladan followed Thorin without question or qualm, turning one way and then the next. He wasn't even keeping track, only listening to the harsh sound of no air getting where it so desperately needed to go. Soon he was lost, but it didn't matter. He trusted the dwarven king with his son's life.

Down they travelled, taking turn after turn swiftly until finally Thorin threw open one side of a huge set of double doors.

Rich mineral water steamed in naturally and hand-carved pools. Elladan didn't hesitate and didn't even bother with the stone steps, leaping into the hot water.

Hot water surrounded Kili, with steam rising up all around him as Elladan sank into the mineral rich bath so that his son was covered but for his face.

Slowly, painfully and achingly slowly, Kili felt the deep spasms of his chest start to ease. Small amounts of air crept through and the ringing in his ears finally lessened enough that he could hear a little. And what he heard was his father.

"In. Out. Come one. Breathe. Relax, let it come. Let the air flow in, and out. Easy. Easy Kuilaith. Please, please, breathe."

Kili rolled his eyes up toward Elladan, and something there in his dark eyes had the elf start to ease up. The young male hadn't even realized how hard his father was holding onto him until the grip released. Elladan's hand moved up to Kili's hair, pushing it back from his face. "Hold on a second. I want to get all the dust off of you."

Kili nodded as Elladan sank down into the water for a brief moment and came right back up. Dark hair streaming with heated water flowing behind him.

"How is he?" Thorin asked in his deep voice and Kili's head swung in that direction. He still couldn't speak, that would have been far to great an effort. Instead he reached for the dwarf and Thorin grabbed his hand gratefully.

Dwalin and Elrohir came running in followed quickly by the healer Kili had spoken with earlier. Again there was no hesitation as the healer pushed through the water, not even bothering to remove his boots. He held a glass filled with bits of green and brown.

Kili grimaced and didn't want the drink. Swallowing meant an interruption of breathing, and he was suddenly far too enamored of breathing. He shook his head.

Thorin yelled into his ear in a full roar. "KILI!"

A flash of red off to the side, had dark eyes focusing on a certain she-elf watching most anxiously. Oh no. He could not look any more of a fool than he already did. Kili motioned for the glass.

It took everything he had to swallow it all down without gagging. His tongue flicked in and out, as if trying to scrape the vile taste away.

The healer smiled wanly. "If you wanted something to taste good, I would need a bit more time in making it."

Kili groaned, and everyone started to relax. Groaning was good. Groaning meant air was in the lungs at least.

"He's getting his color back." Arwen said with a relieved smile.

Kili felt like a right fool and an idiot, being held like a baby in front of important new visitors. And Tauriel. Okay, especially her. He pushed against his father, wanting to stand on his own.

Elladan proved reluctant. The elvish father looked up at Thorin. "What are the rules about holding someone, hugging, that sort of thing?"

Thorin's eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. Gruffly he measured the amount of panic he'd seen on the elf's face earlier and made an emotional decision. "Older male relatives? Especially a father? Has every right to eliminate personal space whenever he feels there is a need. It's expected really."

Kili didn't even have time to react as he was suddenly rolled even closer to Elladan's chest, his protests ignored. The elf's arms wrapped around him strongly, protectively. Completely embarrassed, Kili moaned and thumped his father on the arm weakly.

"Just breathe, son." Elladan whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Kili's head.

Celeborn watched. He was still unsure of this new addition to his family. But when he looked around the crowded bathing pools, he realized he had a lot to learn. Dwarves and Elves together in their concern over a mixed-blood prince of both realms.

Inconceivable.

Yet there he was. Protesting against being held like a 'baby' while King Thorin was joking with Elladan who looked more alive than Celeborn had seen in far too many decades.

Galadriel's hand nudged his and he accepted her without question. The two watched as Tauriel and Arwen removed their boots and walked into the steaming pools to join the males.

Celeborn squeezed his wife's hand. "Life just got interesting again."


	20. In which some thing begin to become clearer

Elladan was the first. Fili yawned heavily at the elven visitor. His was also the longest stay. Several others poked their heads in to check up on him, or pulled up a seat for a longer visit. And when Thorin had come in all regal and darkly stern looking, the tall elf did not become intimidated in the slightest.

Finally, details that only a king could make decisions on had pulled Thorin from Fili's bedside. There had been a small crack in a support beam and a nervous bevy of engineers pulling Bofur away. But it wasn't until Elrohir had arrived to inform Elladan that their mother's father wanted to see his face that the tall elf had risen.

For a moment, Fili was alone. He took immediate advantage.

Woolen covered arse up in the air, bent over, was when the door opened again. Fili closed his eyes. Sure he was going to hear it from some well-meaning friend or family. "I was tired of being stuck in bed!" He barked, wincing at the pain in his chest at the very act of bending over in the first place.

"Well." Came an amused response. A feminine one. "This is not how I supposed meeting you would begin. All and all though, the view isn't that bad."

Leather trousers still at his knees, Fili straightened and whipped around almost dizzyingly fast. He didn't know that voice. When he caught sight of the absolutely gorgeous dark-haired elf lass, his jaw unhinged enough to drop open slightly. "Who?"

"I think you forgot a step or two." Her eyes sparkled merrily at him as she tried hard, and unsuccessfully, to keep from grinning at his expense.

Fili looked down and blushed, grabbing the waistband of his trousers and yanking them up to his waist. "It's polite to knock in dwarvish society."

The beautiful elf-maid raised one hand quite gracefully, forming a loose fist and knocked on the door three times lightly. "Better?"

"Who are you?" Fili sounded grouchy, even to his own hearing.

"Your Aunt Arwen." Came the pert response along with some uptilting of her rather full lips. "I am the younger sister of both Elladan and Elrohir."

"Both, certainly. Since they're twins." Fili nitpicked sourly. "Hard to be otherwise."

One arching eyebrow rose at his comment. "I think I will stay and visit with you."

Fili sighed and started lacing up his trousers as if he were alone. "Suit yourself. But I'm no fit company. And just because you're related to Elladan does not make you my aunt."

"Kuilaith is in an even fouler mood. Of the two, you are the much better bet at the moment as far as company is concerned." Arwen teased him. "And I am blood-aunt to your brother. Which makes us partly family in the emotional sense, if not by blood. But my brother went through a quite tedious ceremony to become your second-father, which makes us family in every legality."

Fili knotted the ties on his trousers a bit too roughly, but they held and didn't snap. Sighing, he reached for a loose fitting shirt. "How do you know it was a tedious ceremony? Or are you commenting on the tedium of taking on a young dwarrow? For in the end, that didn't actually come to pass."

Arwen's smile slipped for the first time as she stepped toward his sick bed. And him. "I only meant that Elladan had to learn some seriously throat-growly words and get them perfect. Elrohir wrote to me all about it. Said you were less than helpful, giggling and stealing boots and such. Completely adorable."

Fili's blush returned to barely color his cheeks beneath his beard. Beard. One hand rose up and winced as he felt of the shape of his mustache and beard. He was looking far from tidy, he was more than sure. Unsure how to respond, the blond prince shrugged. "I don't remember you."

Arwen nodded and pulled up a chair next to a game table. Well, a small table currently holding a game board, Fili noted. "We never met. Your mother was not keen on having too many elves around her. Elrohir felt she was a bit overwhelmed and advised waiting."

"Waited a long time." Came the dryly humored and yet cautious response.

"Too long." Arwen acknowledged, but did not bring up Dis' actions of stealing away two sons. Instead she waved her hand over the game pieces. "Ori made this for you. And one for your brother. If you want to play him, you can both set it up and people can go back and forth to tell you how the other one moved."

Fili stared down at Oshthir Rakur game pieces, finally he shrugged. "Kili was always rubbish at this. He loses focus about half-way through and wants to run outside to go hunting or climbing. Uncle Thorin is a good opponent, ruthless though." He paused and then hesitantly asked what was on his mind. "Why is Kili in a foul mood?"

Arwen blinked up at him, then shrugged. "Embarrassed maybe? Had a terrible coughing fit last night because of the dust in the library. Everyone got that under control, but it was frightening hearing him struggle to breathe."

Fili paled and had to sit down.

Arwen saw his face and rushed to reassure him. "He's fine! I promise your brother is doing well. He had another mustard plaster last night, and this morning one from heated onions. It's doing the job, but he doesn't like the smell."

The blond relaxed suddenly, letting his eyes drift closed as he nodded. "He's never been over fond of too many onions in his food."

Arwen looked down at the polished stone game pieces curiously. "Will you teach me?" She asked sweetly, for all the world appearing genuinely eager to learn the dwarvish game.

"My brother is truly doing well?" Fili pressed.

The beautiful elf-lass flashed him a sassy grin. "Complaining. He's complaining about the smell, the food, the confinement, about being hugged 'too long', about too many visitors all asking the same questions, and …about not being able to visit you."

Fili grunted, relieved beyond measure. "Yes. Good. All's well then." He sighed. "Well, Aunt Arwen …let's begin. You start with six pieces lined up like this …."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Without knock or ceremony, the door opened half-way and someone quickly slipped inside. The door wasn't slammed, but instead was pushed closed as silently as possible. The newcomer leaned heavily against the now closed door.

"You're not supposed to be in here."

Kili whipped around and smiled ingratiatingly at Nuluin, still leaning against the door he'd just come in through.

The healer straightened as everyone turned to stare at the dark-haired prince. His slate colored eyes then slid over to Fili, sitting up on the side of his bed. The young blond prince looked amused. "He's hiding."

"Am not!" Came the immediate protest from Kili.

Nuluin sighed lightly and agreed. "Hiding."

"I have had nine stop by this morning just to check on me! NINE!" Kili pleaded his case, his liquid-eyed gaze making him look irresistible.

"Don't exaggerate." Fili grinned, sharing his laughter with the elf sitting across the small table from him. Arwen looked hesitant, her hand hovering over the Oshthir Rakur game board.

Kili started counting them off on his fingers. "Elladan, Elrohir, Uncle, Ori, Bofur, Balin, Glorfindel, and Dori!"

Arwen's expressive eyes lit up with suppressed mirth. "That's only eight. But I went to visit him earlier too. So I suppose he could just be leaving me off the list of pests to be polite."

Kili stared at her, clearly uncomfortable and not wanting to answer.

Fili grinned and pointed at the game piece that Arwen was holding. "You can't move than one yet."

The beautiful elf-maid suddenly looked cross. "Why not? I have my piece on the midstem space!"

The blond smiled and shrugged. "Okay. You can move it. But it's not a good idea."

Arwen looked mulish and moved the piece in spite of the advice.

Fili immediately slid another of his pieces over and captured hers. "I win."

The sound she made was less than elegant as she stared at the board in distress. "Cloudy-head makes no sense!"

Kili blinked, suddenly confused. "Cloudy-head?"

Fili nodded. "I've had just as many visitors as you have had. Bonus for getting a new aunt who wants to learn how to play Cloudy-head." He peered over at his younger brother. "Which is the translation from Khuzdul." He said rather pointedly.

Oshthir Rakur. Cloudy-head. Kili pursed his lips. "I would have translated it more like 'Making the Temple Cloud Into a Haze'. He tapped the side of his head, right beside his eye, for emphasis.

Fili winked at Arwen as he shared with her. "Which explains why Ori is better at translating things than Kili. Cloudy-head is simpler."

"Not accurate." The younger brother shrugged, looking grumpy.

"I like it." Arwen stated firmly, then gave a rather sheepish smile. "If I could understand it."

Fili seemed to bask in the warmth of her personality and Kili rolled his eyes. "Watch out for her." He warned. "She hugs."

"I like hugs." Fili grinned mischievously. "Why are you in such a sour mood? Tonight is our Durin's Day celebration. You have a new aunt. You get even get gifts."

Kili's face twisted into a glower as sour as that which his brother had accused him.

Nuluin shook his head at the younger of the two brothers. "You don't have a fever this morning, it's true. But I know you did not sleep well and coughed overmuch last night. You should be resting."

"Then keep the visitors at bay!" Whined Kili. A knock on the door across the hallway from them had him shrinking a bit, hunching his shoulders protectively. "I don't want to see anyone!"

"Little help for …..it?" Nuluin's last word trailed off as Kili quickly strode across the room and into the healer's office. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling as if searching for patience. "He went out on the balcony again."

"Not yet. But it's a grand idea." Kili peeked his head back around the door with a cheeky grin. "At least it's not storming this time."

The door to the room opened as Kili disappeared again. Nuluin froze in place as the silver-haired elf entered gracefully. "My Lord Celeborn." He said stiffly, offering a respectful bow of his head.

"I was seeking Kuilaith. Have you knowledge of his whereabouts?" The elf-lord spoke with quiet dignity, returning a shallow nod in greeting.

Fili blinked, looking back and forth between the Rivendell healer and the new silver-haired dwarf standing in his doorway. "I don't know you."

Arwen smiled sweetly. "This is Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "He is the father of my mother and his bark is worse than his bite."

Fili looked startled in the extreme. "He bites?"

Arwen giggled as Celeborn stilled. "It's a saying."

"I know you said it, but …who does he bite?" The blond asked with morbid curiosity. "Wait. If he's your grand-father, that makes him Kili's great-grand-da?"

"You are Fili, the crown prince?" Lord Celeborn asked smoothly.

The blond dwarrow stared at the tall elf, as if measuring him up, and finding him lacking. "You look younger than I do."

Celeborn straightened, but did not respond.

Nuluin stepped forward. "Young Kuilaith …"

"Doesn't want visitors right now." Fili interrupted harshly, narrowing his eyes dangerously. He thought he might like Arwen, as she seemed genuinely sweet and interesting. This tall elf? A different matter.

The healer hesitated, then opened his mouth, only to have Fili speak up yet again. Only the prince wasn't addressing either of the males.

"Set the board up again. I'll show you some of the ways you can move the pieces." Fili waved a friendly hand at Arwen. When she gave him a wide eyed look of surprise, he frowned. "Was I rude to him? Is he going to bite now?"

The elf-maid struggled not to smile, her eyes fairly dancing with suppressed humor. Numbly, she shook her head. "It's just an old saying."

Affronted, but dignity still intact, Celeborn stared at the healer. "Kuilaith does not want visitors, this is true?"

To this Nuluin could be quite sure. "He said so plainly, my Lord. The lad did not rest well last night for the coughing, despite the chest plasters and he has already entertained at least nine visitors and it is not even close to noon yet."

Celeborn nodded thoughtfully, ignoring Fili's smirking presence completely. "Let him rest then. I will see him tonight at the celebration."

Nuluin nodded gratefully and watched as the elf lord opened the door, startling the rotund figure getting ready to knock on the door to Kili's temporary quarters. "Master Bombur." The healer greeted the red-haired dwarrow. "The youngster needs rest and has asked not to be disturbed."

Bombur bobbed his head up and down, wide eyed but silent. He turned his eyes up onto the much taller elf before him and grunted with what could have passed for a quick nod of the head.

Lord Celeborn watched the dwarrow disappear down the hall toward the main stairway. "Kuilaith appears to be most popular."

Nuluin made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat. "He can be an extremely pleasant and captivating spirit."

Celeborn's lips pressed together lightly, but his eyes reflected humor rather than temper. "When not ill or pressed overmuch by well-meaning visitors?"

The healer nodded his head in agreement.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

She was waiting for them.

The weather had aided their travels. Early snows were not unknown in the area, but it seemed Arda was holding off for their benefit.

Dain, Hinnin, and the other dwarves had made excellent time taking the East-West road after a brief resupply in Rivendell. In the Shire Bilbo had proven a most excellent host and had seemed genuinely sorrowed that they did not stay but the night.

No attacks, no stone giants, nothing but some seriously suspicious looks from Shirefolk farmers to hinder them. With swift mounts, good weather, and no problems on the road. They were arriving in Ered Luin seriously ahead of even their best estimations.

As they approached Ered Luin, the pockets of dwarven inhabitants grew. Hinnin remarked that dwarves were addicted to mountains of any kind. Dain had replied that it was better than trees, stone lasted longer. Hinnin had then pointed out that trees lived and breathed. Dain hadn't stopped laughing for five minutes at the thought of trees breathing.

But their light-hearted teasing slowed, and then ceased as they grew closer to a singular cabin within the environs of Ered Luin, which was not a small area to begin with.

Here their progress began to slow again, as everyone wanted them to stop and share the stories of Erebor and her reclamation. Dain had grimly told them the bare bones and had pressed onward. Their good fortune would not last forever and the snows would come. Later rather than sooner he hoped.

When at last they arrived, Dain's eyes were hard as forged steel and his expression locked onto neutral. As dour and implacable as any dwarf that Hinnin had ever seen. If he hadn't just spent the journey getting to know the real dwarf beneath the surface, he would have thought him emotionless.

As for the lady Dis, Hinnin hadn't been terribly sure what to anticipate. Shorter, aye. Perhaps with the look of her brother, King Thorin. Well, yes and no. She had the dark and wavy hair, pulled back in intricate braids but without the gray that was beginning to creep in on Thorin. Her features were softer, the nose not as long, and the shape of her mouth was different than her brother. The beard though, surprised him.

Hinnin leaned over toward Dain, his eyes wide as they dismounted. "Dwarven women have beards?"

"Aye. It's a mark of great beauty and a sign that the sons will be strong and mighty." Dain sounded proud.

The tall elf shook his head. "Calbrinia has …" He mimicked the placement of the dwarrow-lass' curly sideburns. "But no …" He rubbed his smooth chin.

Dain inclined his head, sending a side-long glance up at the much taller elf warrior at his side. "Truthfully? It may be a generational thing. Close beards versus longer beards? It's like fashion, ever changing. On our females. Not for the males, of course."

"Oh. Of couse." Hinnin nodded, still bemused as he eyed Dain's own rather full beard with several smaller braids, but no flashy decorations.

"Beads, clasps, silver or gold, bone, ivory, there was even a fad for wooden beads several years ago. Beauty is where you find it, elf. So you'll find different ways of styling hair in the different generations of dwarrowdams." Dain nodded toward the Lady Dis. "Shall we?"

Dis' posture was already poker stiff, but there seemed to be an aura of increasing tension creeping up upon her as the duo approached.

Several elderly dwarrow stood nearby, all smiles and congratulatory shouts. Dain held up a hand to hold them off. The elders didn't seem to like that much, but didn't argue. Mostly.

Ignoring the grumbles and questioning looks, especially the ones sent toward Hinnin walking next to him, Dain approached the cabin. As for the elf, he was walking much slower, almost awkwardly, due to the discrepancy in leg length between the two males of differing races. But doing so allowed the two to reach the Lady Dis together.

Dain bowed his head. Hinnin's eyes flashed with something unspoken, as he studied her for a long moment before he too nodded in greeting. Though it was not a bow.

"Cousin." Dain said in a gravelly voice, his expression once more closed off.

"Lady Dis." Hinnin offered next.

For her part, the dwarrowdam offered them a rather stilted curtsy of welcome. "I'm ready to travel."

Surprised, Hinnin looked behind her to the well-built but not overly large cabin. "Already?" He'd expected ….something else. Not this stoic acceptance that she was to leave with them. No questions, no temper, nothing.

Dain wasn't surprised. Dis was the epitome of dwarven royalty, even though she'd had far less training in protocol then either he or Thorin. Hysterics weren't done.

The Lady Dis waved at the dwarven elders impatiently. "Answer their questions before they implode upon themselves."

Hinnin watched Dain twist his mouth sourly, but the Iron Hills leader did indeed turn to offer greetings to the elders. Leaving the elf standing alone. With the dwarrowdam that had basically run off and stolen his friend's only child.

But travelling had offered time for tempers to cool. Getting to know Dain and a few of his dwarrow had shone a new light on dwarves. The heat of the moment had passed. Anger still dwelled high within him, but wasn't as close to boiling over as it had been when the elves had first arrived at Erebor.

"I would know who you are."

Startled, Hinnin gave the dwarrowdam a cautious look and then realized that he had yet to introduce himself. It went against the grain to apologize to someone you perceived as having done those you care for a great wrong. Still. He tightened his lips. "I am slow this day." It was as close to an apology as he could force his lips to utter. "I am named Hinnin."

A long pause stretched out between the two. Awkward and rife with unspoken questions and words of recrimination. Finally, she gave a terse nod of her head. "I am the Lady Dis. Sister to King Thorin of Erebor. But then, I suspect you were more than aware of that much already."

"Sister? Yes. Cousin to Lord Dain of the Iron Hills as well." Hinnin agreed. "Daughter to Thrain, and daughter to son of King Thror."

Dis watched him hollowly.

His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Wife to Elladan, son of Lord Elrond of Rivendell."

Dis' eyes slid to the chattering elders all clamoring to get Dain's attention. She seemed relieved when none turned in their direction.

"It is no longer a secret." Hinnin told her, his voice at a normal volume once again.

"I thought as much." Dis acknowledged reluctantly. "My sons?"

"Injured in the battle, but not grievously." He allowed her the moment to close her eyes and breathe from sheer relief. "But they would have died without our arrival upon the field of battle."

Dis pinned him with a sharp look. "Conjecture?"

"Knowledge." Hinnin was resolute on the matter. "One pierced with arrows, one knocked into a crowd of goblins and wargs, and your brother beneath a pile of enemies. Your line would have ended there."

A moan escaped her despite her best efforts and she swayed. Hinnin offered her a hand automatically and without thought. She waved him off. His lips tightened. "Because I am elven?"

Surprised, Dis gave him a chiding look. "Because I am a dwarf, and we don't take help or assistance graciously. Stubborn race we are."

Mollified somewhat, Hinnin nodded.

"My …." Dis nearly choked on the word. "…husband?"

The elven warrior studied her face carefully, gleaning what he could of her mood and character. "Uninjured." He said, deliberately not giving her the answer she needed.

She pinned him with a disapproving look. "That is beneath you."

"You don't know me well enough to judge that." Hinnin replied. "My friend, Elladan …" His eyes turned colder. "…was at Erebor when we left."

With Kili. His son. The words did not get spoken, but they were there.

For a moment, Dis' stoic mask slipped and Hinnin could see utter loss and despair in her eyes before she managed to shutter her emotions.

"You are not kin?"

It took a moment for the elf to understand the question, then he shook his head. "No kin to Elrond's line. Friend." He paused, then decided she needed to know the rest. "Of those who have blood ties, the ones travelling with us were Elladan, Elrohir, Lord Elrond and the Lady of Light, Galadriel."

This time Dis had to take his arm to keep from stumbling.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili was staring out over the vista on the balcony, enjoying the breeze when he sensed the arrival of the elven healer. "It's nice out here."

Nuluin sniffed, but made no comment. Scraping noises had Kili turning around. His face lit up as he saw the elf down a low, reclining couch.

"Really?" Kili grinned happily, beaming with pleasure.

Taken aback, Nuluin smiled at the youth. It was truly remarkable how well Kili's elvish name suited him. A living embodiment of that which instilled joy in others. That aspect of his being had seemed dampened of late. Which was a true pity. "Really. The weather is not turned too cold yet."

Kili flopped down onto the couch with great pleasure, dragging in a deep lungful of fresh air. Mistake. He doubled over in a coughing spasm almost immediately as his lungs protested.

Nuluin had disappeared back inside his office, but came hurrying out again at the sound of Kili's coughing. He dropped the thick cushions and puffy blanket on the couch and put his hand on Kili's forehead.

"No. I'm fine." The dark-eyed youth insisted, catching his rather painful breath. "Breathed too deeply."

The healer nodded and helped wrap Kili up and settle him on the thick cushions. "But if it starts to turn cold, you need to return inside."

"Understood." Kili grinned, pale but still happy.

"And when the sun moves over to shine on the other side? It's time to come back inside. It'll turn too chill in the shade, I'm afraid." The healer continued sternly.

The half-dwarrow princling nodded in compliance. He looked back toward the healer's office. "My brother?"

Nuluin's expression turned regretful and he shook his head. "Not yet. Soon perhaps."

Kili felt the bitter bite of disappointment, but had rather expected it. And he certainly didn't want Fili to have to fight off pneumonia AND heal his punctured lung at the same time. He shuddered at the thought.

"Cold?"

Kili shook his head and pulled the thick blanket up to his chin. "Am fine."

"Let me know if you need anything." The healer got ready to head back inside.

"Just privacy." Kili's smile dimmed a bit. "I …I just need to think."

Nuluin nodded and took his leave.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Arwen studied the board most diligently, her brows furrowed in thought. Fili thought this should make her look less beautiful, but it didn't. Still, try as he might, he could only see a vague resemblance to his younger sibling. He wondered if she had children. Cautiously he cleared his throat. "Are you married?"

At the blurted out question, the she-elf stilled, one hand poised over a game piece. "No. Are you?"

Fili grinned and shook his head. He pointed at the board. "You can only move three spaces over with that."

Arwen frowned, then nodded thoughtfully. "Because you control the midstem." She then smiled brightly and put her piece down with care. "Or did."

Fili blinked his blue eyes and then looked down at the board. He frowned. "You catch on quickly." He muttered.

"Speaking of marriage and courtship." Arwen drawled out her words a bit, sending Fili a side-long glance. "Tauriel?"

The blond snorted heavily and gave a half-smile. "Should have known little brother was part elf, moment he started flirting with the elf-maids." He moved a piece and added another to the board.

Arwen sat up, alarmed. Her eyes travelled over the board, and then her shoulders slumped. "How?"

Fili pointed to the piece that allowed him the extra token.

"But!" The she-elf protested. "You wouldn't let me do that the last game!"

Fili moved his finger over and pointed at the empty spot which changed the rule. "You took over the midstem, so …."

Arwen narrowed her gaze on him, and set her lips mulishly as she began to study the board again. "Kuilaith ignored her last night. Turned his head from her every chance he got."

Surprised, Fili looked up at his new aunt. "Doesn't sound right. Usually he watches her every move."

"When Tauriel wasn't looking, he'd stare." Arwen picked up a piece, frowned and put it back down again. "You're winning."

Fili smiled at her. "I've been playing this since I was a dwarfling. Mister Balin and Uncle Thorin insisted. Good for teaching strategy."

"But I'm getting better?" Arwen asked, finally picking up the same piece she'd just put down and making her move.

Fili frowned and eyed her carefully, judging her temperament. Finally he made a small move, capturing her piece and removed it to the penalty area. Leaving her wide open.

Arwen smiled weakly and sighed. "Oh dear."

The blond gave her a sympathetic look. "You lose more graciously than Kili does."

"Maybe I should start on him, instead of you." Arwen gave him a winning smile as she reset the board.

Fili snarked and shook his head. "Kili. He only loses because he doesn't like to play. Hates to drag out a game and loses focus. Sometimes makes reckless gambits that sometimes win and sometimes not. But when he's serious? Determined? He doesn't lose then."

"Oh." Arwen sat up, filing that bit of information away. "I would have thought with a name like Kuilaith that he would enjoy games."

The blond nodded as he made the opening move on the board. "He does. Loves games. Outdoors. Athletic. Moving. Or quick and fun. Thorin used Cloudy-head …" He grinned over the Common translation of the Khuzdul name. "As a teaching tool. That didn't make it fun in Kili's eyes. Doing something fun because you're being taught isn't the same."

Arwen's mouth twisted. "Like visiting elven families with unattached elf sons. Fun. Unless everyone is staring at you, wanting you to 'choose'."

Fili's head snapped up and he grimaced. "Like Legolas? Be glad you haven't been foisted off on him."

Truly surprised, Arwen shook her head. "Oh, a match between us was hinted at. But that was several hundred years ago. We've both made it perfectly clear we're just good friends."

Shocked to the core. Fili stared. "Several hundred …yes, well. I keep forgetting you're not the age you appear."

"Besides." Arwen continued, her attention still on the game board. "Legolas, I do believe, actually has his eye on someone. Unfortunately it is a Silvan elf-maid that his father would never approve of for marriage."

Attention caught, Fili remembered the teamwork between Legolas and Tauriel in the skirmish against the orcs, the spiders, and then again at the major Battle of Five Armies. Dryly, he spoke. "A Silvan elf who was once a captain in his father's guard?"

Arwen looked up, surprised. Then her eyes rounded and her mouth dropped open. "Tauriel?" Casting her memory back, she shrugged. "Perhaps. He did say it was someone he considered a good friend as well."

Fili waggled his eyebrows at her and gave a rather sheepish grin.

Arwen took a deep breath and shook her head. "Oh dear." She then turned her attention back on the blond dwarrow. "So. As the crown prince, I'm sure they dangle all sorts of female dwarves at you."

"Dwarrowdams." Fili corrected, then pointed at the board. "It's your move."

Arwen nodded, taking her time to quietly study the board. Finally, she picked up one of the left side pieces. Carefully she moved it two spaces over. But did not rush to occupy the midstem space.

Fili nodded in approval. "Good." Then he took the midstem.

The she-elf's eyes flashed with irritation. Then she grinned and moved in another piece to increase her presence on that side of the board. "So, do you have a certain dwarrowdam you're interested in?"

Fili shook his head. "Have met only three, other than my mam and my cousin's mother." He picked up another piece and slid it over to protect the midstem space. "One was a twit and insulted Kili. The other two weren't interested."

"Insulted Kuilaith?" This did not sit well with the elf-maid, despite that she hadn't known of her nephew's existence at the time.

Fili slid in a sly grin. "Told him he looked Elvish."

Arwen stared at him, as if unsure if this was a joke or not.

"Terribly insulting to a young dwarrow, of course." Fili pointed out. "So she wasn't someone I was really interested in getting closer with. And the other two weren't terribly interested in me."

Arwen looked shocked. "Why not?" She sounded highly offended on his behalf, straightening up haughtily.

Fili grinned at her, amused beyond reckoning. "Because I was Thorin's heir. And Thorin was the crazy king-in-exile without a throne struggling to make money from a forge in a human town. With Thorin spouting off about forming a quest to hunt down a dragon? Hmmm. I wasn't the best prospect."

"They didn't respect him?" The she-elf asked as she made her move on the board.

"They loved him. Still love him." Fili countered, trying to find a way to explain dwarven thought processes. "It's like Cloudy-head. Hazy. Thorin had their love and their respect. But they weren't going to rush in and try and take the mountain without weighing the consequences most carefully." He captured the second midstem space easily, and put her on the defensive. "Dwarves are brave beyond reckoning, resolute as stone, but we do bleed. And while we can withstand much heat from our forges, pure dragonfire is a bit different."

He didn't try to explain the reverence with which Durin's Line was held. He also didn't try to explain the sheer destruction of the battle of Azanulbizar and how it had affected the Dwarven mind-set. Too many deaths, too many empty hearths. The death of King Thror, the uncertainty of Thrain's mind or whereabouts. And a young new ruler that while considered brave, was untested in actual ruling.

A knock on the door had them both looking up. "Have you seen Kuilaith?"

Arwen smiled at her brother, Kili's father. "Elladan!"

Fili stilled, keeping his eyes from moving over toward the healer's office. And the balcony beyond it. Arwen had been his helpmate in deterring visitors from reaching Kili for several hours now. They'd already sent three on the merry little way. But this was her brother come calling this time. "Not recently."

"Sister?"

Fili felt his shoulders tense up.

Arwen shrugged lightly and shook her head, appearing so open. "I saw him earlier this morn." She allowed. "But I've been in here for a while now."

Fili didn't dare give into the wide grin his face was threatening him with. But his tension did ease.

After Elladan took his leave, the dwarf and the elf eyed each other carefully. Then they both smiled. Arwen tilted her head to the side and teased him. "Maybe this time you'll let me win? Young nephew."

"Then how would you learn?" Fili teased right back. "Old Aunt."

Arwen squeaked in protest, throwing a game piece at his head which Fili caught easily even while laughing.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Why is the elf with you, good Lord Dain?"

The leader from the Iron Hills blew out a quick breath through his nose. "I have answered that question for at least four others. Perhaps you should all get together and compare notes."

"Or you should answer the question fully." One of the elder's snapped, narrowing his beady little eyes on the warrior. "Yes, I understand that the elves of Rivendell aided Thorin in freeing Erebor. But why is that elf HERE? Now? And why Rivendell rather than the wood elves of the Mirkwood?"

The other elders nodded, their attitudes a mixture of relief, overblown joy, and utter suspicion.

Hinnin, most likely sensing their regard, turned and raised a wine glass in their direction. Each elder, to the last dwarrow, sniffed in disdain.

Dis walked up and put a fresh plate of breads and cheeses upon the table. "He's here for he is a friend of my husband."

Dain stilled, his eyes going to Dis in an almost pleading manner. The two cousins had not had a chance to speak privately as yet. He did not know her as well as he did Thorin, but that did not mean that he wasn't fond. "Don't."

"Nehili?" One of the youngest of the elder council shook his head. "What does a minor miner for Ered Luin know of an elf hireling from Rivendell?"

Dain's brows furrowed with temper. "Don't belittle him. He is …" What? A friend? The dwarrow warrior only hesitated for a second. "I name him friend as well."

Hinnin, his hearing atrociously good, paused while drinking his wine. It was a small pause, but Dain noted it. He also saw the lifting of the eyebrow, and a nod of the head.

The leader of the elders, Uskadil Forkedbeard, watched all of this with still sharp eyes and a still sharp mind. He looked at Dis, putting his wine down, sucking on a tooth that had always been a bit longer than the other due to a well placed punch back when he'd been a dwarfling. "Not Nehili." He guessed.

The other elders fell silent as they watched Dis duck her head and keep her gaze from the elder. She took a deep breath, then lifted her chin. "I am married twice. By the wishes of my king, and grandfather."

Dain started to speak, but the elder held up his hand for silence. "You speak of your second son's father." It wasn't a question. "And the elf is a friend of his?" That was a question.

Grumbles met those words, which only escalated as Dis nodded.

All eyes turned to Hinnin. The tall elf walked over to the table. He wasn't sure how to handle this. Obviously Lady Dis had never told her community of her second husband, or his race. He began to appreciate how deeply she'd kept hidden her son's origins. Was it for him to tell them? "I will not speak on this. It is not my place."

Dain breathed again, gratitude in his look as he glanced at the elven warrior.

It was Dis who shook her head. "No. I will be travelling to Erebor to face my children, my family …and my ….husband." The word felt foreign to her and it showed. "I will not leave nothing but gossip raging like a forest fire behind me here in Ered Luin."

"Lady Dis." Hinnin hedged his words, trying to tread lightly. "My presence here was not to make your life harder."

"No?" Dis sniffed, clearly upset but also clearly determined. "Why are you here? To assure that I arrive safely? Or to make sure that I arrive at all, either on my own two feet or dragged back by my braids?"

The elf winced as Dain pressed his lips together unhappily. "Cousin. It is a …situation. What Erebor now faces is unprecedented."

"And where were all you brave souls, dwarrow and elvish, when King Thror was bidding me in my grief to marry a second time?" Dis' voice rose alarmingly. She turned to stare at each of the elders in turn. "Who would have argued against my grandfather when he demanded that my blood continue? That one son wasn't enough? That I had a DUTY to my kin, my family, and to the throne of Erebor?"

No one spoke, all just stared.

Dis glared at them, gathering her dignity about her like a cloak. "I did as I was bid." Her eyes fell lastly upon the silent elf, watching her. His expression had not changed. "For what happened after, I owe no explanation to you."

Dain winced. Hinnin didn't move, didn't react.

"Lady Dis?" Uskadil asked without ever forming the actual words.

"I will explain myself once and once only. In Erebor. Before my brother the king, my sons, and my husband. Do not ask me again." Dis took a deep steadying breath, then stared point blank at the leader of the elder council. "My youngest is named Kili. Son of Elladan. Son of Lord Elrond of Rivendell. Son of Tuor."

Hinnin stirred, not being able to resist correcting the mistake. "Earendil." He offered the name quietly, almost gently as he watched the dwarrowdam.

"Son of Earendil. Son of Tuor." Dis finished without acknowledging the slip in the lineage.

Several of the elders blinked, the others simply stared. "My son carries the blood of Durin's Folk from the direct blood line as well as that of Lord Elrond." Dis continued. "And tomorrow I go to face those I must. But for tonight and all nights hereafter, know that I will never bow my head in shame."

With that said, Dis swept majestically out of the room, the moment only somewhat lessened by the sounds of her running up the stairs and slamming her door.

Uskadil sighed, as all of the other elders waited for his reaction. He looked to Dain.

The Lord of the Iron Hills nodded wearily. "King Thror …."

The elder held up a still calloused hand, the joints swollen in with age. "I think I can understand King Thror's reasoning. Why the elves would agree, I have no clue and will not hazard a guess. But why did Dis never say? Why hide the lad's background? It would have been tough for her, but no less difficult than the questioning she did face."

Hinnin put his hands on the table and looked toward Dain. The dwarrow nodded. The elf shook his head slightly. "The Lady Dis? Left her husband, walked away from the marriage."

"What did he do?" Came a horrified looking elder with barely any pepper in his black and white beard.

Hinnin pressed his lips together and shrugged. "He says she was still grieving her dwarven husband and was unhappy."

Arguments and grumbles rose until Uskadil once more called for silence. He stared at the lone elf in their midst. "At that time, if my memory holds true, Nehili had not been long buried. What you have said may be bald truth." His voice showed that he was withholding judgment on that matter. "The Lady Dis should not have to explain her reasons though. That goes too far."

Dain sighed and cut right to the heart of the matter. "Dis left and did not tell her husband she was carrying his child. He did not know."

Suddenly the atmosphere in the room changed again, from deep suspicion to abject shock.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Another knock on the door had Fili and Arwen looking up.

"Dwarf." Fili guessed. "Assertive knocking."

"Elf." Arwen countered. "Assertiveness is not only counted among the dwarves."

"I've gotten the last three right." Fili pointed out, then groaned as Tauriel walked into the healing hall.

"But not this one." Arwen stretched, rolling her neck. "You have saved me!"

Tauriel paused, unsure of what was going on, but the two seemed to be getting along so she didn't question too deeply. "Kili's lunch tray isn't in his room, but then again, neither is he."

Fili and Arwen shared a look. Each and every visitor they'd sent packing. They came to an unspoken agreement. "Balcony." Fili said, while Arwen simply pointed.

Tauriel moved toward the healer's office and out onto the attached balcony.

Arwen's smile dimmed. "Was that the right thing to do? He was avoiding her last night."

Fili snorted, having zero misgivings on the matter. "Let them talk it out without anyone interrupting them."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel would have thought that someone had simply left a reclining couch on the balcony, piled high with fluffy looking pillows. Except the idea was ridiculous and she had no trouble identifying the thick dark hair on top of the jewel-toned pillow.

She walked around to stare at him. Kili was wrapped up snugly and lying comfortably in the nest he'd seemed to have created for himself. His eyes were closed and he appeared utterly relaxed.

Except. Green eyes fixated in on his fingers, noting the tension. "You're awake." She said, a small note of hurt in her voice.

Kili winced inwardly, but forced himself not to show an outward reaction. He did crack open one eye, then close it again.

"If you have changed your mind how you feel about me, there is no need for elaborate games." The elf said stiffly.

This time he couldn't stop the grimace as he shook his head, reacting before thinking it through. Then he sighed. "I'm not good for you."

"Who said I'd have you?" She countered, her color rising with temper.

"Good. If you won't have me then this is a moot conversation." Kili faked a yawn and closed his eyes.

Tauriel stared at him, sensing something was off. "What changed?" She finally bit out the words.

"Me." Kili could have stabbed himself for answering, but it was too late.

Graceful, arching eyebrows rose over her wide-eyed look. "You find out your father is a High Elf and suddenly I'm not good enough?"

The hint of pain in her voice was enough to send him right over the proverbial edge. Kili jumped up, nearly tripping on the edges of his puffy blanket that the healer had provided him with. "Don't! Don't put thoughts or words on me that I didn't utter nor have I ever believed!"

The red-head stared at him, reading his sincerity clearly. But it also left her completely confused. "What changed?" She asked more gently.

"Me." Kili closed his eyes as if in pain. "I'm mortal."

"Technically, that didn't change." She pointed out with some asperity.

Kili growled and sat back down on the couch, but not laying down this time. "You're not mortal."

She watched him, but he wouldn't raise his face to her, staring at his heavy boots as if they were suddenly the most fascinating thing around.

Tauriel looked out over the view, gathering her thoughts. "I was immortal and you weren't when we first met."

Kili nodded quickly. "But I didn't realize what that meant!" He protested. "I didn't know that elves only marry once and can actually die from a broken heart."

Understanding started to filter in and she smiled.

He stood again, suddenly angry with her. "Don't! Don't smile like that! It does things to me and you can't do that! Don't you dare tell me that your heart holds no barriers to me!"

Tauriel smiled and moved closer to him, backing him up until he was forced to sit back down again. She took the seat next to him. "Presumptuous much?"

"You did leave the Mirkwood." He pointed out, unsure how to feel at the moment. Angry with her, and yet so happy that she wasn't angry at him. But he wanted her to walk away, right? "Go away."

She ignored his muttering. "I left the Mirkwood because I now have a chance to see more of this world. Maybe even catch a glimpse of a fire moon or something else new and wonderful."

Not for him. Kili pondered that fact, feeling a bit hollow inside. "Just because it gives me more of chance to see you again, pure coincidence." The elf dared to tease him, bumping his shoulder with hers.

Kili stared down at his hands. "Tauriel? I'm still mortal."

"Kili? I know." The red-head shouldn't sound so amused. "You were even more mortal when we first met because neither of us knew who your father was at that time."

"Then you know why it's not a good idea. You and me."

"For my own good?" Tauriel studied her dwarven prince's profile, then boldly leaned in closer. "I'm older than you. I make my own decisions."

"Is there a way to put back up a barrier? In the heart, I mean?" Kili asked quietly.

The she-elf smiled almost sadly. "No. They're not physical barriers. And Silvan elves don't deal with things like that. We have no barriers, we share our hearts more easily than the High Elves. We are bolder, closer to the wild and to nature."

"I made you a piece of jewelry."

The words, and the reality of what he was saying, took her completely by surprise.

Kili continued, ignoring the fact that she hadn't responded. "Elladan says that's a far too personal gift. That elves see jewelry different than dwarves, at least in gift giving."

Tauriel's mouth shut with an almost audible click and then she nodded, her heart rate racing a bit. "It is a significant gift to give or receive among the elves. But …I think I can accept it in the manner in which it was given instead. What does it mean to the dwarves to give jewelry?"

Kili looked up, turning his head to sneak a peek at her enthralling green eyes. "When it's hand-crafted, it means that I think highly of you." He grinned suddenly. "It is hand-crafted, by the way."

"I think highly of you too."

They sat there, together and yet apart, enjoying the long moment of silence. Kili suddenly grinned. "I've been out here most of the day. Haven't come up with a single clue what to give Arwen."

Tauriel laughed, her mood vastly improved. "She's not expecting anything, she told me so. The Lady Arwen knows she arrived late and no one really knew she was coming."

Kili nodded gratefully. Then sighed. "I transcribed the story you told me of Elenlote. For Lady Galadriel. In Elvish I might add. Pretty parchment, nice frame. Handwritten to show that I'm trying to learn. But Elladan says that isn't a good idea for a gift either."

The red-haired elf smiled, a quick uptilting of her lips. "It's considered a poem rather than a story."

"It doesn't rhyme." Protested the dark-haired prince.

Tauriel shrugged helplessly. "It does in Sindarin."

"But not in Common." Kili guessed, and the red-head nodded.

"You couldn't tell it rhymed when you were writing it out in Sindarin?" She asked curiously.

Kili shrugged. "It's still a mystery to me. Words simply should not be that hard to learn!"

"It is also a romantic poem. One generally recited to someone to show that you have begun an interest in them. Not a high romantic gesture, but a beginning one."

At that, Kili frowned. "Why didn't Elladan just tell me that? Instead he wanted me to change it, calling it not appropriate."

Tauriel waited. Silently. Just waited. A good quarter of an hour passed in companionable silence when suddenly Kili about jumped out of his seat. His head whipped around and his wide dark eyes pinned her. "YOU told ME that story!"

"Poem." She teased.

Kili was not about to be thrown off track though. "You were the one who told it to me!"

"Took you a while." The she-elf gave him a lazy smile. "But you got there."

Kili grinned a bit sloppily at her, then shook his head.

"You'd asked me a question, but had been fevered. I wanted to let you know that your interest was not unnoticed. Or unwelcome."

Kili's grin only grew in intensity. Very slowly he raised his arm and slid it around her, giving her all the time and room in the world to avoid his touch. She didn't.

As if of one piece, the two reclined back on the couch and Kili pulled the puffy blanket up over the two of them. They weren't of the same height, but laying down like this, it didn't matter.

Her head nestled in the crook of his arm and shoulder. He smiled as her breath ruffled the loose fall of his hair. His arm tightened slightly around her. Her palm rested on top of his chest, unable to feel him beneath the leathers, but both knew her touch was there.

His smile slowly disappeared and his hand tightened on her. "Elenlote. The poem says that their love could not last, that they were too different. The ground and the star."

"Shut up and hold me."

Kili's grin returned as he did just as she asked.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	21. In which Thorin makes a new friend

"I can't find your brother."

Fili looked up at his uncle, blinking as he yawned heavily without covering his mouth. "Morning?"

Thorin grunted and shook his head. "Evening." He corrected. "We decided to let Kili come over here and let the two of you join us to open the Durin's Day gifts before the feast downstairs."

Sleepy blue eyes lit up and Fili pushed himself up in his bed, settling against the headboard. "Yes!"

"Are you sure you're feeling up to this?" Thorin asked, eying his nephew's still rather pale face carefully.

Fili yawned again, unable to help himself. Yet he was nodding the whole time. "Sorry. I spent most of the day teaching Arwen to play Oshthir Rakur."

Instant disapproval as Thorin's face fell into a sharp-edged frown. "You found this a wise course of action?" His tone showing that while he may no longer hate all elves, that didn't mean he was willing to give them his friendship.

"I found it less than boring." Fili said dryly, heavily understating how much he'd enjoyed the time spent with his 'aunt'. "And I like her." He added, just to be perverse.

Thorin's eyes rounded and his face started to redden and Fili waved his hands at his uncle as he realized how that might have sounded. "No. Not like that."

The dwarven king drew his head back slightly, giving his nephew a measuring look. "No?"

"No." Fili said firmly. "She's sweet and smart and funny. But I'm not waking up for her. Nothing pokes out. Don't worry."

Thorin's mouth twisted and he looked uncomfortable with the topic, which was better than looking like he was about to explode with temper. "Don't be crude, your Mam would box your ears until they rang."

Fili went far too still at the mention of his mother. It took Thorin a moment to notice that something in his nephew's mood had changed. Hardened into something brittle. He looked puzzled and started to ask when they were both interrupted by a knock on the door.

Two guards, one with a dark brown beard and dozens of small braids, poked their heads into the room. "Pardon, your majesty. Is this where you wanted the table for the presents?"

Thorin grunted and pointed to a side wall. "Over there will work." He didn't add please or thank you because that wasn't the dwarven way. The younger dwarrow sometimes added these words, but mostly because they'd been living above ground too long. Too much influence from the culture of Men. Among themselves, they preferred to be more direct. It wasn't a lack of manners, it was a different set of manners.

When he turned back to his nephew he forgot all about his question as the blond was now grinning up at him with anticipation. "Presents?"

The hopeful word startled Thorin into a small chuckle. "Still not but a dwarfling, are you?"

The blond prince pushed aside his earlier uncomfortable thoughts and instead poked out his bottom lip while widening his blue eyes. The effect was only slightly lessened by the mirth shining up through those eyes though.

Thorin's chuckle grew into a bark of a laugh as he shook his dark mane balefully. "Kili does it better." He pointed out. "Speaking of which, I can't find your brother."

Fili paused. He'd fallen asleep an hour or two after the midday meal. Was Kili still outside? Was Tauriel? He glanced at the time piece hanging on the wall. Early evening, sun probably close to setting but still light out there. He looked at Thorin, who was staring suspiciously at him.

"You know where he is." It was a straight forward statement, not quite an accusation but close. Thorin sighed. "Everyone has been looking for him."

"He wasn't lost." Fili shrugged, trying to look innocent. But his uncle was right, Kili did that look so much better than he could.

"Fili?"

The blond grinned and pulled up the sheet to his chin. "I'm still injured." He teased, trying to stem the tide of his uncle's formidable temper.

Thorin wasn't amused and his glare clearly stated that, but he wasn't furrowing his brow yet so Fili figured he was still on the good side.

A knock on the already open door had them both looking around. Elladan stood there, dressed elegantly in an elvish style robe with intricate embroidery.

Fili's eyebrows shot up and he gave a half-smile at the elf warrior. "Just something old and worn that you brought with you on a journey to face a dragon, an army of child-stealing dwarves or whatever you thought might be out here?"

Thorin smirked at the elf's expense.

Elladan didn't seem perturbed as he slid one hand down the richly appointed robe. "My brother and I had just arrived back in Rivendell, we had not yet unpacked from our travels when we discovered …well …" He paused, not wanting to needle touchy dwarven feelings into anger right before a celebration. "When we discovered that we were going to be coming to Erebor, we threw some extra supplies into our bags, but did not bother to unpack what we already had."

"Training Rangers calls for strange garb." Thorin said with a disingenuous air of innocent support.

Now Fili smirked and Elladan blinked slowly, then smiled in self depreciating humor that the blond found to be admirable. "Even Northmen have nice dinners on occasion." Was all the elf would admit to, however.

"So. You're here looking for Kili too." Thorin turned and pinned Fili with a stare that clearly showed that his original purpose had not been veered from entirely.

Elladan sighed and shook his head. "He hides himself from me, I believe. No. I came to check in with Fili and see how he fares."

A bit surprised the crown prince's smile faded, though not turning into a frown. "I'm tired all the time, chest hurts but not too badly. Fine. Achy."

Walking in from his office, Nuluin heard the last comment and nodded. "To be expected, Prince Fili."

Now even more surprised, Fili turned to stare at the healer as he came toward him. "You've been calling me by my name all day." He pointed out in a reasonable tone of voice.

"Your uncle, the king, is present. It would be disrespectful to his name and title to show you familiarity unless we were in private without leave." Nuluin said smoothly.

Thorin and Fili shared a perplexed look. Finally the King Under the Mountain cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. "Your words may be in common, but their meaning is clearly Elvish and thus unintelligible."

Nuluin looked up, his expression clearly showing he'd not been trying to be obtuse. "Protocol."

Elladan nodded and tried to explain. "Even though I am friendly with King Thranduil's son I would only call him Legolas to his face with his unspoken agreement on such a familiarity. But if in front of his father, then I would refer to him as Prince Legolas to keep from intimating that my friendship with the prince would in any way encroach upon King Thranduil's welcome."

"I think this is what Arwen must have felt like when I was trying to explain the rules of Cloudy-head to her." Muttered the blond dwarf. He raised his voice and looked at the two elves in turn. "Elvish rules in their petty but pretty courts don't count for much here. My name is Fili. Use it."

Thorin bared his teeth and slowly crinkled his eyes as if his words actually were causing him pain. "Don't make me say that I agree with the elves, Fili."

The blond dwarf blinked, unsure even as Elladan and Nuluin nodded in understanding with Thorin.

"They may call you by name, since you gave them permission." The king continued. "And I don't give a damn if they even do it in front of me. Just save those pretty manners when in front of representatives from the Seven Families."

Fili grimaced this time as he realized why this might be important. He was no longer a beggar at the table of the less blooded, but not homeless, dwarven nobles. His title now matched his address. Grouchy, he added on another thought. "Or other elves."

Thorin's face darkened as he clenched his jaw for a moment. "Does there have to be other elves?" He complained. "Don't we have enough already?"

Taking that for a rhetorical question, Nuluin gestured toward the prince's shirt. "I need to change your dressing before the celebration begins. Fili."

The blond recovered his mood quickly, pleased at the drop of his title. He nodded at the healer and pulled off his loose shirt with barely a grimace of pain, though not moving with his usual feline grace.

Thorin rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the knots he could feel in his muscles. "Get rid of a dragon, only to have elves take up residence." He muttered, still on the sore topic.

"And find yourself related to one." Elladan added with no little dry humor.

A surprised chuckle escaped the dwarven king in spite of himself and he barely nodded his head in acknowledgement. "You drink more wine than the dragon did."

"But less than the dwarves who drained the wine and ale reserves of Rivendell." Elladan snorted lightly. "Or so my father conveyed."

Thorin actually managed a pained smile, shaking his head. "Imagine my surprise to find that elves eat meat. Since as Rivendell guests we were served only green growing things."

Elladan's eyebrows shot up and a less than elegant snort of laughter flew from between his lips. "Oh dear. My father did that? He must have really been irritated."

Thorin felt some of his tension ease in spite of himself. "It is possible that I and my company might have been a bit on the gruff side."

Fili laughed, then arched his back as an expression of pain flew across his features. "Ow."

Nuluin frowned, though not unhappily, but rather in a puzzled way. "Your wound looks a week healed, not a day or two." He made thinking noises in the back of his throat, prodding here and there at Fili's chest. "Very quick healing processes you dwarves possess."

Thorin nodded, pleased to hear that bit of good news at least. Elladan too looked happy. Until the two shot glances at each other, noting the pleasure both seemed to be sharing. Then their smiles disappeared awkwardly, but at least did not delve into anger.

Nuluin made some more approving nods and started to rewrap Fili's chest wound over a crisply herbal smelling ointment. "Remarkable how healthy and recuperative your race seems to be." He looked up at Thorin in a questioning manner. "From what I gather from Master Oin, the Dwarves don't get ill often at all. Most healing is on injury or illness related to either a wound or a trauma such as Kuilaith's pneumonia following that ambush."

"True." Thorin allowed, but didn't expound on his answer, wondering what the elf was looking to ask him about.

Nuluin nodded thoughtfully, then looked around the area and shrugged. "So why such a big healing hall within Erebor?"

Ah. The dwarven king grunted, understanding basic curiosity. And it wasn't culturally sensitive information at least. "Mining injuries mostly. Training injuries and battle wounds." He turned his attention fully back to his nephew.

"And of course childbirth." Nuluin murmured, seemingly content with the answer.

"Nay, that would be in the Ozinafkhur, not here." Thorin said dismissively, completely disregarding his use of the Khuzdul term as he looked intently at his heir. "Where is your younger brother?"

Fili's smile turned tentative as he gave a fake groan and let his features fall into a wince instead. "That really hurts." He complained.

Nuluin looked bemused, knowing he was no longer prodding sensitive areas around the chest wound. He knew an evasion when he heard it. He turned toward Thorin helpfully. "I believe that young Kuilaith is still outside on the balcony, where he's been getting some much needed rest. I only break his confidence because it will be dark soon and he will need to return inside for the Durin's Day celebration tonight."

Fili slid his gaze over to the healer, looking at him from the corners of his bright blue eyes. Rest? Oh, the healer had been gone earlier when Tauriel had come through the room. Nuluin obviously didn't realize that Kili wasn't outside alone. He hunched his shoulders a bit in amusement.

"Balcony?" Elladan looked startled, then resigned. He gave a balefully look at a not-ashamed-at-all Fili. "I suppose he's been out there for quite some time?" He left unspoken the accusation that Kili had been outside even when Elladan himself had been looking for him earlier.

The blond prince didn't respond beyond a small shrug, instead sliding his gaze onto Thorin as the dwarven king turned and headed out onto the balcony. The tall elf was only a few steps behind him.

Fili looked up at Nuluin with almost ill grace. "Had to tattle, didn't you?"

The healer appeared genuinely surprised. "Your brother shouldn't be alone out there, especially not with winter coming very soon. It can get chilly outside at night. It was fine while the sun was bright."

"We dwarves are heat and cold resistant to such mild changes as these." Fili snarked a bit, then gave a rather cheeky looking grin. "And who said that my brother was alone?"

Nuluin's eyes widened as he straightened up, obviously taken by further surprise. Speculatively he studied the blond dwarf and running through available names and the look of chagrin on Fili's face, the healer made a correct guess on who was out on the balcony with Kuilaith. The elder healer even had the grace to drop his gaze and apologize.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fergard Stormrune scanned the horizon worriedly. Beside him the leader of the Grimbasher clan mirrored him, his once-too-often broken nose twitching as if testing the air.

"If this were a mine, I'd be sending in a songbird." Brorgic Grimbasher said in his usual gravel-rough voice, referencing how certain animals were more sensitive to the dangers inherent to their profession.

Fergard nodded with a grim outlook. "Looks fine, smells fine, all is well."

"All up until the odorless gasses swamp your lungs and kills your brains." The Grimbasher turned to look back at their group of immigrants to Erebor, and their supply wagons. "We're too good a target."

Fergard sighed heavily, kicking the ground with his heavy miner's boots, steel reinforced for protection. "Good place for an ambush ahead."

Brorgic's own sigh echoed that of his long-time neighbor and friend. He glanced back at those waiting for their decision, including his own daughter. "It would be different if were just us out here." He said quietly.

Not surprised, Fergard nodded. "Not too late to turn back, wait for the Ironfoot to come through as escort."

"We're not exactly unarmed." The Grimbasher clan leader gave a smile that echoed his name, grim. "And we did send messengers on ahead."

"We did." Fergard agreed. "If they got through."

Brorgic gave a sudden grin, exposing his straight teeth that had not ever been broken, unlike his off-center nose. "If we're being targeted, they won't find us so easy to overrun. Mines breed them tough. And our numbers aren't exactly low."

"True enough." Fergard gritted his teeth, thinking of all those that had elected to travel to Erebor with them. "Another reason to go ahead. Going around adds time to our journey, time that could leave us even more exposed. And it depletes the travel supplies, which make us forage which only adds to our exposure." The Stormrune father rolled his shoulders in resolution. "I really don't sense anything out there. Only …it IS a good place for an ambush."

"Aye."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elladan came to a halt behind Thorin, who was blocking the doorway. After a long moment, when the dwarven king did not either speak nor move, the tall elf cleared his throat. "Problem?" He queried.

Thorin's head turned and he sent a resigned and not very happy look back at the elf lord. He did move however, walking out onto the balcony, allowing Elladan to follow.

The elven father stilled as he saw the reason for Thorin's consternation.

Lengthy red hair mingled with thick dark hair, where a certain elf-maid's head was resting in the crook of Kili's shoulder. The young prince's right hand fingers were casually lifting up some of those long red tresses and letting it sift through to fall gently back down to her side before he reached down and caught another handful to repeat the gesture. Tauriel's visible hand was resting on Kili's chest, tracing indistinguishable outlines on his leather tunic. The rest of the duo was hidden beneath warm, puffy blankets as they reclined on the jewel-toned pillows.

Kili was stretched full length on the couch which was dwarven sized. Tauriel clearly had to pull her legs up and bend her knees a bit in order to fit. And those long legs beneath the covering blankets, looked as if they were snuggled up closely against a certain dark-haired prince, entwined. A suggestive pose, even if it was obvious that all clothing was in the proper position for propriety.

"Uncle." Kili greeted sotto voce, and then fell silent.

Elladan tried to bury the hurt of the non-greeting behind a bland affect, perfected over a few thousand years. Especially as Thorin seemed pleased with his nephew's snub.

With obvious reluctance, Tauriel sat up, though the she-elf had to smilingly disentangle Kili's hand from her hair. "That's mine." She teased.

"I was just borrowing." Kili teased back, disinclined to relinquish petting her red tresses. Or letting her go.

Thorin shifted his weight, put out with his nephew's completely unsubtle flirting. With an elf. Even if she wasn't ….terrible. His lips thinned as he pressed them together, to keep from uttering something unproductive.

"Tauriel?" Elladan's voice was calm, even. "Would you be so kind as to give us a few moments?"

The she-elf's hesitation was brief, but present. Her liquid green eyes turned to Kili's gaze with silent apology before she nodded her head.

The dark-haired prince sat up and watched Tauriel as she left the balcony to the males. Father, uncle and son. Finally, Kili looked up at the elf whose blood ran through his veins. "Personally, I'd rather you left."

Thorin made a small sound and grimaced lightly. "She is prettier on the eyes than he is, though not by much." It wasn't a compliment, but a verbal jab at the elf in his fine robe.

Elladan shook his head and opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by his son. "No. I'd rather you left." Emphasis on the last word, accompanied by an intent stare from very serious dark eyes.

The elf lord straightened, meeting his son's stare head on. "Inside?" He queried, but knew that whatever Kili said, it wasn't going to be what he'd have liked to hear. "Downstairs?" A longer pause as the young prince remained silent. "Or Rivendell?" He added softly.

"Rivendell would be a decent start." Came the bitter tone. "Go there."

"Without you." Elladan guessed.

Kili stood, a brittle and yet mocking smile touching his mobile face. "Without a doubt."

Thorin stayed still, watching, listening. Part of him wanted to rejoice in Kili's rejection of his elvish father. But part of him knew …something was wrong. He knew his nephew, and his moods. Something very deep was bothering the youth. This harsh, deliberate cruelty wasn't a part of Kili's being, not usually. His nephew was acting very out of character. Yet he couldn't bring himself to interfere, not on behalf of the elf lord.

"Here you all are." Elrohir had no problems interfering it seemed, walking out to join them all despite the thick emotional aura.

Thorin's blue eyes slid to the balcony entrance, somehow unsurprised to see the other twin was being accompanied by the silver-haired leader of Lothlorien. He didn't bother to greet either of them.

Kili groaned and rolled his neck and shoulders as if tense. "Good. You can all hear this loud and clear. Go home."

The twins shared a quick glance while Lord Celeborn simply looked on without expression or word, yet his manner no less haughty than before. The cheerful, pretty colors of the elven robes seemingly out of place out here.

"Kuilaith. Son." Elladan was clearly trying to marshal his thoughts and words together in a manner not to set off Kili's already broiling temper. "I offer my heartfelt apologies to you if my comments on the gifts you made …"

"Go. Away." Kili interrupted with the supreme rudeness of youth, glowering darkly at his father.

Thorin wondered idly if it were possible for Celeborn's nose to angle up any higher in the air. From his height he could clearly see that either elves didn't have nose hair, or it was too fine to be visible. He was only grateful that the male's wife wasn't present. As if thinking of Galadriel might summon her somehow, Thorin glanced around quickly but the elf witch was not present.

"Son." Elladan apparently was just as stubborn as ….Thorin's mouth twisted wryly …as stubborn as Kili himself could be. Why that thought amused him, he could not say. "Give me a chance. My intentions were never to harm you or …"

"A chance for what?" Kili snapped out the words. "What do you want from me?"

Elladan's gray eyes never left his child's face. "To get to know you." He said quite simply.

"Why?" Demanded the youth. "Because we share blood?"

Silver hair tilted as Celeborn's head moved slightly, observing yet not speaking.

"Just because you are the cause of my birth, does not mean that we have to share the same air." Kili said, not quite in the heat of temper, but rather in the harsh coldness of dismissal.

Elrohir seemed nervous, the fingers on his injured side twitching somewhat. Elladan simply stood there, taking the full force of the dark-haired prince's verbal jabs. "Is there not anything you would need nor want from a father?"

"I had a father. Not possible for anyone to do better." Kili gestured toward Thorin without looking at him. The king shifted his weight, both proud and disturbed by the words as he knew he'd not been the best of parents by either race's standards. Being a king to an exiled people and trying to hold together far-flung communities of touchy dwarves had left him little enough time to devote to his nephews no matter how much he cared for them.

"Maybe it is I who needs a son." Elladan said quietly.

"NO!" Kili exploded forward in fury, taking everyone by complete stunned surprise. The earlier coldness of the young prince's mood instantly changing over to the volcanic heat of pure temper. "That is the LAST thing you need! I am the very last thing that you need!" He shouted, eyes blazing.

Elrohir watched with wide eyes, unsure of the emotional currents swirling thickly around them all. "I have never seen my brother so alive in decades. You are good for him." He offered cautiously, not raising his voice.

"I'M GOING TO DAMNED WELL KILL HIM!" The words seemed ripped from the core of the young dwarf's soul.

At last, Celeborn's nose came down as he leveled a solemn-eyed gaze at the child of his line. "Was that a threat?"

Kili turned and glared at the elder elf lord. "One already accomplished." He said, deep bitterness and self-loathing dripping from his words as he blinked, moisture at the corners of his eyes. "I've already killed him." The heat of anger fled, leaving behind something close to despair as he sank back down to sit on the edge of the reclining couch.

Thorin drew up, confused. His eyes met that of Celeborn's first. Neither had an answer, only questions. They both turned to look at the twins, who seemed no more enlightened than they.

Kili groaned at the ignorance around him. "All your vast ages, wisdom and knowledge and you don't see the simple truth? I'm fucking mortal! I'm going to die! Now or in a thousand years, I'm gone. And when I go, I take him with me!" He waved at Elladan with a soured expression. "Stupid Elves with your damned heart barriers."

Celeborn blinked rapidly, but showed no other expression. Thorin still wasn't clued in, however.

The twins seemed to have figured it out though. Elladan smiled sadly. "No. My heart has no barrier to you. But that won't kill me, son."

Kili's eyebrows arched high over his dark eyes. "No? Pardon my feeble grasp of history. But didn't your family marry you off to keep you from fading from grief? So what if you now have someone else to care about? That someone is a mortal dwarf!"

Thorin started to understand a little, but wasn't sure how to react.

"Yes. When you pass from this world, you will take parts of our hearts." Elrohir tried to speak up next. "But we have each other, our father and sister, our mother's parents and other family, even our close friends. It won't mean our deaths."

"Maybe not for you." Kili nearly spit out the words like venom. "But didn't your brother have those exact same friends and family around when his love died? Didn't he have you?"

Neither twin had an answer for that.

"If all those friends and family weren't enough to keep my da from fading back then, what makes you think it will keep him in this world after I'm gone?" Kili stopped, breathing hard, but thankfully not coughing. He turned and faced Elladan, looking up at his father's face with a fierce intensity. "How many pieces of your heart do you have left to spare?"

Elladan stared at his only child, his features still, but his gray eyes clearly showing the whirlwind of emotions within him.

"Don't love me." Kili's voice was nearly a plea. "Go home."

The tall elf lord came to some drastic realizations right then, right there. Truth smacked him in the face and he shared it out loud, his gray eyes never leaving the gaze of his son. "Since Bainnid passed I've not had a home, or a life. Until I learned of your existence."

Kili moaned, unable to help himself as he dropped his head. Shaggy dark waves fell about the sides of his face, hiding his expression. "Don't. I'm reckless, and a lot of trouble. Mortal. I get distracted sometimes. Didn't pay attention in my studies like I should. Thorin had to yell at me a lot."

Thorin closed his eyes in amused despair, a sad smile ghosted over his lips.

"Apparently he did a good job." This voice was smooth, pleasant and cool as silk.

Kili's head snapped up to stare at the Lord of Lothlorien. "You're supposed to hate me."

Celeborn blinked slowly, leaving no wrinkles despite his great age. His expression was still guarded though. "I was not aware that was my assigned role. Perhaps you should endeavor harder to distance yourself from the elvish side of your blood. It is possible you were too distracted by the beautiful Tauriel to turn my regard to hate."

Thorin shifted. It sounded like a joke. But when he looked over at the tall elf lord, he simply couldn't tell.

"You did mention that you had a propensity to become distracted, did you not?"

Thorin sighed heavily and slapped the side of his leg loudly as he shook his head. "Elvish humor. It's as fun as elvish music and food." His tone left no doubt of his low opinion on any of it.

"Hey!" Kili protested weakly, his raging temper suddenly dispersed and leaving him exhausted. "I'm part elf."

Thorin's left eye twitched and he grinned. "Which explains why I had to yell at you while you grew up. A lot."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Brinarg kept his face blank, his eyes friendly. On the inside, however, he was raging mad.

Wait.

That had been the latest order he'd received. It wasn't the brevity of the message that he railed against, for he understood clearly what was required of him. Wait for an opportunity, then apply the second part of his orders.

The physical part. The part in a small pouch that looked and smelled innocent enough, but was a poison so virulent that those affected would die a hideous and painful death.

Wait.

Brinarg wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but he gritted his teeth all the same. He'd sent on messages to his master, but apparently his intelligence was going to be ignored. Again.

Fili and Kili, the puling princes were injured. Brinarg fought not to curse out loud. While the deaths of either of the two would have been welcome, a failed attempt only put Erebor on guard. It brought a careful scrutiny that he and his mission did not need.

So. What was he waiting for? Brinarg helped in the scurry and bustle of readying the main hall for the Durin's Day celebration feast. He wanted to add the poison to the food this night. It would be perfect, and unexpected.

Only he had orders. To wait.

The stubborn streak within most dwarves fought with his allegiance. But in the end, it was fear that ruled. Breaking with the master's plan would bring him nothing but grief, even if he did manage to succeed. So he'd wait.

For now.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili's face flamed with embarrassment as he followed the others back into the healing hall room. Seemed as if nearly everyone was there. Had they heard?

Fili's bland expression showed clearly that they had indeed heard some of what had gone on between father and son. Yet thankfully no one seemed prepared to make mention of it. Kili started to relax.

"So. You fear for the life of your father?"

Kili's eyes closed and his head drooped, there was no escape. "Lady." He muttered.

Galadriel hadn't been immediately visible to him, standing over near a window on the far wall. Of course she'd heard. And would mention the argument.

"Your method is clumsy, but your heart appears to lead you, child."

"Leave him be." Elladan stepped in for his son, much to Kili's relief. He put his hand gently on the young brunet's shoulder. The elf seemed to be holding his breath, but when the prince didn't shrug off the touch, the contact firmed a bit.

Fili clapped his hands together to garner attention his way, then rubbed them eagerly. "Food? Presents?" He grinned. "Presents!"

Bofur and his cousin Bifur both laughed as they rummaged carefully through a large box the two had brought up to the room with them.

Balin shook his head, moving over to stand next to his king. "I would suggest that we have an informal exchange of gifts up here. But eat downstairs without the lads."

"Ah." Fili protested. "Why?"

Kili though felt nothing but relief. He wanted everyone out of the way so he could mull over the confrontation with his father. The elves seemed to think that once he'd aired his concerns, it was all over. But the reasons he was worried were still valid.

"You chew over the same thoughts, leaving you in turmoil." Galadriel's bright eyes were still trained on Kili.

The brunet refused to look in her direction, but it didn't help much. He could almost feel the intangible weight of her regard.

Elladan's hand pressed more firmly on Kili's shoulder, offering comfort and understanding. "I would rather have my life with you in it, than live forever without having known you. Come son, let us have our celebration and gifts."

Kili felt his stomach churn at the thought of food right now. "You can say that, you weren't the one specifically born into order to kill …well, you."

Galadriel didn't move, but suddenly her attention increased tri-fold. Celeborn turned from his quiet conversation with Glorfindel and he stared at the child of his daughter's son.

Thorin and Balin both raised their eyebrows almost impossibly high.

Elrohir shook his head. "Yes. You are mortal, and that will be a huge blow to our family once you pass away. May that be not for a very lengthy period of time. But you aren't killing anyone." He hoped. Actually his true hope was that Kuilaith would marry and have children, who would in turn help ease the burden of his death for the much longer lived elves.

But Kili shook his head, still not looking up. "Look. I know this probably sounds self-important, and far-fetched. Call it stupid, I don't care. But I was thinking … Elves and Dwarves have never gotten along, not well. Distrustful. So why would anyone think it a good idea to merge the bloodlines? Sauron is back, right? And he's known as The Deceiver? Why wouldn't he try and trick everyone into this marriage in order to destroy any alliance between our races? And if it happens to kill off one of Elrond's sons, what would he care?"

Kili waited for the denouncement of his words. The mocking, the tearing apart, the …silence?

Looking up, the dark-eyed, dark-haired prince found himself the subject of every eye in the room. A mixture of consternation, shock, surprise, disbelief, and utter sorrow stared back at him.

Fili frowned, unsure. "Put a lot of importance on yourself there, brother." He said weakly, his mind racing for something to say to comfort his younger sibling.

Dwalin opened his mouth, his gaze shuttered. Finally he grunted. "Durin's Line and the bloodlines of …." He paused. "Who does take precedence in the elvish scheme of things?"

"Myself. Galadriel. Thingol. Luthien. Tuor. Melian. Elrond. There are many." Celeborn's voice held steady without inflection. "Take your choice."

"High Elf blood." Balin translated for his brother. "And if you think Dwarves are greedy with mere things, you should see how closely we hold our families."

"Bloodlines are important among our kind as well." Celeborn admitted smoothly. "And perhaps greed isn't the right word in this instance, for either race."

Thorin's voice sounded hoarse as he spoke up next. "Sauron was defeated the last time in a great alliance. Elves, Men, and Dwarves. Could The Deceiver have tried to influence a destruction of any duplication of such an alliance? Drive a permanent wedge between us to separate the resistance against him?"

Kili grinned widely suddenly, a laugh even escaping him.

Fili's blue eyes widened. "Why do you look happy about this?"

"No one is saying it's a stupid thought." The brunet sounded relieved to have his fears go un-mocked.

"Stupid? No." Celeborn sounded thoughtful. "I'm not saying what you are thinking of is right. But the idea is far from stupid. Whether or not Sauron influenced events from behind the scenes, I have no doubt he would use the marriage of my daughter's son to his own advantage."

Galadriel nodded most carefully. "The White Council would have had to meet simply to discuss Sauron's return. This only adds to our discourse. But it is disturbing to contemplate."

"But not Kili's fault!" Ori piped up, overly anxious.

"No indeed." Elladan started to wrap his arm around his son, disappointed when the young male stepped away from the light embrace. Though the elf was relieved to see an embarrassed smile on his grown child's face rather than anger or dislike.

"So now what?" Kili asked, looking nervously around the room at large.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You don't like it?" Fili asked, looking disappointed.

Elrohir held up the fine dagger. It was of simple lines, but elegant in its weight and balance. The craftsmanship was brilliant. "I do like it." He said, his voice a bit tight.

The dwarves glanced at one another, clearly at a loss with the underwhelmed reaction.

Ori leaned forward helpfully, elbow on the table. "Fili made that. He may not be formally apprenticed, but he does fine work."

"Yes, of course it is. Beautiful work indeed." Elrohir still seemed almost distant since he'd opened the gift from his dwarvish nephew. Before he'd unwrapped the present he'd been quite light-hearted.

Thorin glared at the elf lord, his hand on his own gift from Fili. A fine comb carved from the bone of one of the wargs killed in the last battle. A battle trophy with intricate carvings depicting the royal crest of Erebor.

Glorfindel stirred, uncertain, throwing an odd look at Fili and then at Thorin himself. "Elladan and Kili have been butting heads about differing gift meanings. It occurs to me that Dwarves might not have the same customs about the giving of blades."

Fili's blue eyes snapped up toward the golden-haired elf. "There's a custom?"

Elrohir himself seemed to relax a bit as he nodded. "I apologize, I did not consider that the ways might be different."

Balin spread his hands out, pleased. "It's not that you don't care for the blade, then?"

"What is the meaning behind the giving of such a thing?" Celeborn leaned forward, his facial expressions giving nothing away of his feelings on the matter.

Bofur leaned forward, pointing at the dagger. "Different blades have different meanings. And buying one is different from forging one."

Balin agreed. "No one really had enough time to do much forging, not with the repairs needed here in Erebor taking priority. But I do believe that Fili has given you a blade from his own collection, one that he forged himself and has worn for several years. That is considered a personal gift between family."

"Such a gift means that the lad is extending his arm to you if ever you are in need. That you can count on him." Dwalin said rather coolly, arms crossed.

Fili flushed lightly, a bit embarrassed. "Well. He did put himself between me and Kili while we were in that damned river. Deliberately placed himself so as to protect us."

Thorin had known that, having heard it from Kili already, nodded in reluctant approval. As much as he wanted to discount the elves, he could not deny that the gift was appropriate.

Elrohir suddenly smiled, holding the dagger with practiced ease.

Ori scratched his chin, confused. "What does the giving of a dagger mean to elves?"

Elladan chuckled, shaking his head. "That you want to sever the relationship between the giver and receiver."

"Oh!" Fili's blue eyes widened, deeply appalled. "But…"

Thorin coughed, interrupting. "I think from here on in, gifts between our two cultures should be received with the intent of the giver. If you're unsure. Ask."

"Indeed." Celeborn added in agreement, surprising the dwarven king immensely.

"My gift is looking better right now." Kili said with a cheeky grin and a laugh. "Smelling better too."

Elrohir smiled in return, picking up the hair conditioner his nephew had gifted him with. One that Kili had proudly proclaimed 'didn't smell like the woods'.

Glorfindel held up fine mug gifted to him by Bombur, his eyes tracking to neither the dwarves nor the elves as he spoke. "The reason the twins have a conditioner that smells like the woods, is so that the orcs and goblins won't smell them coming."

Kili's grin faded.

Glorfindel smiled then. "I can just picture the orc's confusion thinking they're tracking a dwarf by the spicy scent and find their death at the hands of an elf."

Dwalin laughed, drawing a scowl from Kili. Thorin even smiled at the thought of Elrohir smelling like his nephew.

"I like your gift, it was very thoughtful." Kili's elven uncle avowed. "And it will come in handy should my hair become entangled in a tree limb again."

More laughter, this time with even Kili being drawn in. "Go on and give your gift to Fili now." His hands petting the white fur from some northern animal that his uncle had presented to him.

Elrohir smiled and pulled out a small pouch, handing it to his blond dwarven nephew. "For you."

Fili grinned widely, his good humor more than restored as he took the pouch. "Small." He looked so young and excited that Elrohir couldn't help his own answering chuckle. It had shaken the elf warrior terribly to have seen Fili so hurt in that ambush at the river.

A set of silver beads with elvish sigils rolled out into Fili's hand, who's blue eyes went wide as saucers.

Kili took one look and nearly fell out of his chair, laughing. His wide grin gave way to a series of coughs that had others reaching for him, but he waved them off. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes as he finally succumbed to gravity and slid to the floor caught between coughing and laughter.

Elrohir looked confused at Fili's shocked expression and Kili's uncontrolled mirth. He glanced over at his twin brother, but Elladan shook his head slightly.

Thorin's mouth twitched. "Cultural misunderstandings? I'm sure you're not trying to court my nephew?"

Celeborn sighed and his lips actually twitched into a ghost of a smile. "Even I knew that one."

Elrohir shook his head, his long dark hair swinging with his movements. "I gave him his first bead when he was younger."

Bombur grinned madly as Bofur hooted out loud. "The important word there is 'young'."

"After a dwarrow hits around thirty the meaning of such beads changes." Balin explained, trying to be helpful.

Elrohir closed his gray eyes in resignation. "Is there not a way for an elder male uncle to give such a gift?"

Dwalin shook his head, then paused. His eyes brightened and he gave a grunt. "Maybe. Didn't Nain's father gift him with courting beads in order to spur him into finding a wife?"

"Which Nain?" Gloin asked, interest piqued.

"The second, if memory serves." Balin answered for his brother.

Elrohir pointed at Fili. "You're the crown prince of Erebor now, and you do need to find a nice dwarrowdam."

Thorin's hand slapped down on the arm of his chair for emphasis as he agreed. "Aye!"

Fili smiled sheepishly and poked at the beads with his finger, nodded. "We need dwarrowdams out here in Erebor first."

Arwen leaned forward, curious. "Are there none?"

"No." Elladan answered at the same time as Balin, who answered "Yes. There are. But they are warriors under Dain's command. Most married."

The young she-elf perked up attentively. "None that have caught your eye?"

Kili giggled, still on the floor. "It's not his eye that needs catching." He said suggestively, only to get swatted on the top of his head by his older brother.

"Watch your mouth." Fili hissed. Then the blond crown prince looked around the room. "What other gifts have we not given out yet?"

Ori raised his hand eagerly, grabbing a box he'd lugged up to the room and opening it. "Sorry. I didn't know what kinds of things elves are wanting. So …I made several of these." He started handing out the fine hand-made writing quills.

Lord Celeborn accepted his with a bit of surprise to be included, but took the time to graciously thank the young dwarven scribe. "This is of very high quality." He commented, making his wife smile at him.

Arwen waved hers in the air with a delighted look. "Why is mine dyed purple?"

Ori blushed prettily and ducked his head. "It seemed to suit you." Was all he could be teased into admitting. Thorin coughed and spared the young dwarf from any comments, even going so far as to gesture for Fili to swat Kili again when it looked like the young brunet was about to make a comment.

"I have another gift to give." The soft musical voice of Lady Galadriel never rose, but seemed to be heard clear as a bell regardless. Several eyes turned to her. Kili brightened from his pout immediately and he climbed back into his chair. Only to stare as the Lady handed a roll of parchment to Elladan and gestured for him to deliver it to Thorin.

The King Under the Mountain gave the golden haired female a long, cautious look but did accept the roll of parchment. He untied the velvet ribbon and rolled it out upon the table. Gasps from the dwarves around him had several craning their necks to see.

Thorin stared down at the features, feeling off kilter as memories beset him. "My father."

"I sorrow if my gift brings you pain. But I have seen for myself the state of most of the portraits remaining in Erebor. Smaug did not treat them kindly." Galadriel spoke sympathetically. "My skill in art is less than a master and it is but a color sketch."

Balin whistled, looking at Thrain drawn in happier times. Younger times. Not maddened by grief and despair. "Your skill is wonderful, Lady."

Dwarves didn't usually hold to the ways of Men and Elves. But even he knew that something was called for here. "I thank you. Your gift is priceless to me." He managed to say without choking up.

Suddenly he was glad for the wild impulse that had struck him earlier in the week. He gestured for Balin to hand him several banded scrolls of his own. "It seems we have been thinking along the same veins."

Thorin himself handed Galadriel, Elladan and Elrhohir each a parchment scroll. "I am no artist at all, but I did learn draftsmanship here in Erebor many years ago. I hope to have done the subjects justice."

Elladan opened his first, sucking in a breath at the shaded line drawing of a laughing and very young Kili and Fili each holding up a fish. The sketches seemed alive and nearly jumping off the page.

Uncomfortable with the raw emotion that briefly flowed out from the elf lord's face, Kili looked away. Fili grinned, pointing. "That fish is almost as big as you were, brother."

Dwalin grunted. "I was there that day. The fish was bigger. Knocked Kili into the river where he stubbornly refused to let go of the line and nearly drowned himself trying to keep his hold."

Fili guffawed and slapped an embarrassed Kili on the back. "That's two rivers you tried to swallow!"

The dark-haired prince groaned in response.

Elrohir eagerly unrolled his scroll next, finding a scene with Kili standing on Fili's shoulders trying to reach one of his arrows high on a tree trunk. He was startled into a chuckle with the picture of Kuilaith with one eye closed, his tongue caught between his teeth, and Fili's scrunched up face of great effort and strain. "Very nice!"

Kili looked at the picture and huffed. "That's misleading! That was actually Fili's shot!"

The blond swatted at his brother and Kili dodged this time, crossing his dark eyes at him.

Galadriel's hands moved with grace over the final parchment, unrolling it slowly. This one was a much younger duo. Kuilaith in the cradle, swaddled closely and asleep. The drawing drew attention to the soft fan of dark eyelashes on the baby's face. Fili was peering down at his new brother with a look that seemed a cross between one of loathing and curiosity. The Lady of Light smiled at the sweet image, nodding her head. "This is no small sketch, and no small ability. I thank you for the generosity of your heart, King Thorin."

"You look like you didn't like me." Protested the younger sibling to the older.

Fili grinned. "I still don't like you." He lied through his teeth.

Thorin rolled his eyes as the two started to tussle, having to be separated by an exasperated Dwalin and a laughing Bofur.

Galadriel watched all of this with an air of amused patience and indulgence. "I have another gift though."

Kili immediately sat up in his chair, drawing a chiding look from his uncle on the dwarven side of his blood.

"Master Dori?"

The gray haired craftsman looked up, more than a little shocked to be so singled out. Earlier he'd gifted everyone with hand woven book marks and tea cozies much to the elves delight and the dwarves resignation. "Me?"

"For you, and perhaps for Erebor." Galadriel had Arwen pull out a much larger roll of parchment which was carefully laid out on the table.

Dori stared with greedy eyes, tracing the complicated weaving pattern with utter adoration.

"Glorfindel noticed you bemoaning the loss of many of Ereborn's historical crests and tapestries." The Lady of Lorien smiled at the craft master. "I have drawn these from memory. Unfortunately they come not from Erebor, but from the time I travelled through Khazad-dum. I don't know if you will find these patterns useful …"

"Oh dear. Oh my dear. Oh, oh, oh!" Dori looked like he was about to weep. His thick, yet nimble fingers tracing first this line and then that line.

"My daughter's daughter is skilled in needlework, and helped translate my memories into a working pattern. Or that was the hope." The golden haired she-elf spoke gently.

Dori seemed lost in a daze. It was Ori who cleared his throat and bowed with respect to the Lady of Light in thanks. Balin shook out a handkerchief and nudged Dori with it, so that the weaver wouldn't get tear spots on the precious pattern.

Thorin was in a quandary. He hated elves. These elves had reason to hate him. But these 'simple' Durin's Day gifts were touching parts of his soul that he'd thought long since beyond reach.

"I have a gift." Glorfindel pulled out a leather pouch and tossed it to Bombur. "For one who has managed to surprise even one as old as I. Bubbles in my juice. Amazing."

General laughter met the elf's words as the dwarves nodded, all having heard the warrior expound on the qualities of sparkling cider ever since he'd discovered the drink.

Bombur grinned, opened the pouch and grinned at the sharp smell of expensive spices. He bobbed his head in pleasure, beaming at the elf happily. "This will be put to good use!" The rotund dwarf promised.

Fili grinned, rubbing his hands together. "Someone give Kili something before he starts pouting!"

Kili immediately protested, even though the comment seemed right on target.

Tauriel bit her bottom lip, but stood, holding out a package.

Kili stared at her, his protest dying on his lips. Nervously he smiled and thanked the red-head nicely. "Not a pony." He commented, then pulled out the beautifully tooled pair of boots. The young prince held them up for all to see the soft leather of the footwear.

Elladan and Elrohir smiled. Dwalin frowned. "Elvish style boots." The warrior remarked.

Fili peered at the leatherwork, then grinned widely. "Those aren't Elvish runes. Those are dwarven designs."

Immediately each of the dwarves crowded close. And it was true. The boots were made in the lighter elvish style, but the decoration and embellishments were clearly dwarven.

Tauriel blushed as several of the dwarves eyed her speculatively. "Ori helped me pick out the proper runes."

Balin cleared his throat. "Smart of you, lass. Very clever and a well thought out gift." He shoved Kili in the back. "What'd you get her?"

Now Kili blushed, but he gamely pulled out the pin he'd hand crafted and enameled for his she-elf. He blushed as much as she'd done and stood, walking over to her. "Remember. We're attaching the customs of the giver. So no matter what my da says, this is for you. Because I think very highly of you."

Everyone smiled.

Kili then went and grinned very widely and pinned it to her dress, near her heart. "And maybe one day it'll mean what my da is so afraid it might mean too."

Elladan's head dropped back as he groaned and stared helplessly at the ceiling as the dwarves all erupted into laughter and glee at his expense. Even his own twin brother.

Arwen went so far as to clap while smiling. She then turned to Fili with a spark in her bright eyes. "Now we need to find a dwarrowdam for you to gift those courting beads to!"

Fili hissed mockingly at her, not really upset at the idea but having fun pretending otherwise. It was actually kind of exciting to think that he might actually get a chance to meet more than one or two females of his race.

"Pay no attention to the young and stupid. By that I mean Tauriel and Kili. In that order." Thorin grumped, he then nodded at Dwalin.

The tattooed warrior nodded back and he pulled out an ornately carved wooden box. Not huge. But covered in designs from nature. Vines, flowers, trees and the like. It was darkly stained and with a shimmering luster of well tended wood. He carefully put the box down in front of Glorfindel.

The golden haired warrior of old, looked up with a stunned look. This was no mere trinket, but a masterwork of dwarven craft and design.

Thorin coughed politely and nodded at the elvish warrior. "To hold keepsakes."

Glorfindel's eyes moved from the dwarvish king, to the tattooed warrior and his diplomatic brother. All three nodded lightly. Touched beyond words, the re-embodied elf put his hand on the box and bowed his head in deep respect and gratitude.

The four of them had shared grief, sorrow, and a bone-deep knowledge of pain too powerful to talk of with others who didn't share in the losses they'd suffered. This gift was an acknowledgement of that shared memory, and those they'd each lost.

The others in the room did not seem to understand the undercurrents, only murmuring about the fine work that had gone into crafting the box. Galadriel's eyes moved between them and she turned to look at her confused husband.

It wasn't until Glorfindel had pulled a jeweled ring off of his finger, that Celeborn had caught his breath. But the elf didn't place the ring in the newly gifted box. He handed it to King Thorin.

"The House of the Golden Flower is no more. There is only I." The hero of old said slowly. "But the strength and heart of my house is yours in the time of need." He pledged.

Thorin wasn't sure exactly what was being promised, but he knew enough to be completely bowled over by the offer. From what it sounded like, Erebor had a new friend.

He suddenly laughed, drawing surprised looks from all around him. "I finally make friends with an elf. Is it a neighbor? No. One of the relatives of my nephew? No. I get the bubble-loving, tomb-robbing, jokester fond of making trouble." Thorin smiled at the elf warrior.

"May your feet be of stone, your head clear, your heart proud, and your arm as of iron. May the paths you walk be lined with riches. May the Maker craft your family. May I always call you my friend."

At the Common words of the old Khuzdul saying, Glorfindel stood and bowed with utter grace and dignity.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Longest chapter yet! Argh! In fact, didn't want to end it there cuz Durin's Day isn't done. But the next bit leads into the following scene and I'd end up with three chapters in one. So. Here we stop until the next update. 
> 
> Yes. Fur. Furs were given as gifts. Animals were harmed in the making of this story, but they're imaginary animals thank you very much. Middle Earth doesn't have synthetic furs nor fabrics. Sorry.


	22. In which Fili makes a stand

"I wasn't expecting gifts!" Arwen smiled generously, as she opened yet another thimble, this one from Bifur.

"You gave us gifts, lass." Balin pointed out with a grandfatherly smile for the pretty elf-maid, despite the fact that she was actually much older than he. The white-bearded dwarf held up the scented pouch embroidered with an elvish rune meant for his sock drawer. In fact, each of the dwarves now had one. She'd explained that the rune stood for 'prosperity', not just with monies but with life and family. The dwarves had been pleased.

Arwen's nose scrunched up prettily. "I didn't have time to make much, I wish I could have done more."

Bofur laughed and shook his head. "Nay lass, we all only had to come up with an extra gift or two. You had a whole slew of dwarves to come up with something for. Not the same at all!"

Kili grinned, seeing the other three thimbles already lined up before her. "I think someone must have mentioned that you liked needle work." He glanced over at Elrohir who did not have the grace to deny it. The older elf sibling simply gloated a bit, his gray eyes happy.

"I love them!" The dark-haired elf maid gushed generously. "It is beyond kind to be thinking of gifting me with anything when I only just met you all!"

Bombur beamed back at her while Gloin nodded his approval, both having given the pretty elf lass thimbles, one of polished bronze and the other of engraved steel. The last thimble had been a gift from Thorin and was of silver.

Gloin eyed the newest thimble in Arwen's fine boned fingers and grunted softly. "Looks a might plain coming from you, Bifur."

The rather fierce looking dwarf with the silvering beard and still dark hair said something unintelligible and flashed a few symbols of Iglishmêk. Then he leaned back, whistled and put his hands behind his hands looking prideful.

Gloin looked shocked. "Really?"

Bifur nodded his head and brought one hand forward and waved it at the pretty elf maid, before leaning back once more.

Thorin was now intrigued as well. "We've only been back in Erebor a short while, you've already …." He asked eagerly.

Bifur nodded once again and twitched his eyes toward Arwen, who was watching in open curiosity.

The Dwarven King switched his keen eyed interest over to the elf and her newest thimble. "Put it on." He paused, realizing perhaps that he wasn't her ruler. "Please, try on his gift."

Arwen looked bemused, but slipped the thimble on over her finger and then made a delighted grin as a merry little tune chimed up from out of nowhere, sounding like the sweetest of songbirds. "Oh!"

Celeborn leaned forward, eying the small gift in the hands of his daughter's daughter. "Dwarf magic, I will admit it has been an age since I have seen any that has been newly crafted, and not passed down from older generations. Some things make their way down to us from the Iron Hills, but not much."

Bofur leaned in, nudging his mostly silent cousin on the shoulder. "When we haven't been inspecting the mine shafts we've been tinkering in the elder craft rooms. The ways aren't difficult, but the knowledge of how was scattered with our people. Some things we'd known, but there is so much more with the texts we've been lucky to uncover so far."

"We have lost many of our masters and apprentices as the dwarves became separated. Much of our old ways are now changed." Thorin nodded thoughtfully at Bifur. "I hadn't realized you had gotten so far as to actually make anything."

Bifur sat back up and mimed the smallness of the thimble with a shake of his head and a few hand gestures in the silent hand-language of the dwarves.

"True, true." Bofur nodded thoughtfully. "Thimbles are small, but I still think you did a great job."

"I love it!" Arwen's smile hadn't dimmed one iota, her delight clear and nearly tangible. "Thank you!"

Dori sighed and handed over a small package to the elf-maid. "I'm afraid my gift holds no magic."

Arwen carefully put down her newest treasure, to accept the gift from the white-braided dwarf. "I'm sure it will be lovely."

"At least it's not another thimble." Dori smiled back at her looking like the kindly old grandfather that he wasn't. Her actual ancestor, Celeborn, was watching with a youthful face and unlined skin. To the dwarves this all seemed a bit unnatural. But then, they were elves.

Arwen chuckled and opened her package, revealing a set of hand carved wooden bobbins painted in cheerful colors. "Perfect!" She declared, looking as if she meant it. "I need these!"

Dori blushed almost bashfully, suddenly looking about as old as his younger brother Ori. "Fine needle work takes more than a good thimble."

Gloin and Bombur sent the weaving master arch looks, which he ignored as he watched Arwen inspect his gifts.

Fili grimaced even while still smiling himself. "My gift also doesn't hold magic."

"Hey!" Kili straightened up suddenly.

"Sorry. OUR gift. This is from both of us." Fili amended graciously.

Elladan leaned in closer, wanting to know what his children had come up with as a gift for their aunt. As Arwen opened the small pouch and poured out the contents, he blinked, unsure. "But …"

Arwen looked down at her gift from both of her nephews, more than a little confused. "I thought beads were a courting gift?"

The blond prince's grin never dimmed, his blue eyes sparking with mischief.

The elves all looked confused, glancing around at the dwarves, who all just managed to look a bit smug and very amused.

Ori stepped in to translate, as it were. "Those aren't courting beads. See? Those beads are not for hair, but to string on a necklace. See the bored hole? Too small for a beard or a braid."

Celeborn stirred, pinning the blond princling with a sharp eyed gaze. "And yet we've also discussed the significance of giving of jewelry to elves."

It was Kili's turn to grin, turning his eyes onto the object of his affection. The red-haired elf currently wearing the pin he'd hand crafted for her. Almost reluctantly he let the elves in on the truth. "My brother and I aren't giving her jewelry. Not exactly. The beads are unstrung. They are PIECES of what WILL become jewelry, but it's not the same as giving jewelry."

"Because she has to have it made into jewelry herself, or do it on her own?" Elrohir asked, a rueful smile now wisping over his features.

Arwen's smile bloomed with delighted laughter as she poured the small beads from the palm of one hand to the other, not spilling even one. "You both think you're so clever!"

Fili leaned back with an arrogant ease, a smirk on his expressive lips while Kili laughed happily, looking far more at ease than he had since the battle with the wargs and goblins. And of course the arrival and revelation of his elvish blood family.

Elladan watched Kuilaith, trying not to be overly obvious. Seeing the young prince like this, laughing and having fun showed clearly how guarded and reserved the youth was when in his father's presence. As happy as it made him to see Kuilaith so light-hearted, he couldn't help the sadness that crept upon his soul like a shadow. What he wanted more than anything was for his son to be like that with him.

_'Time'._

The word was multi-faceted within his mind, having come from several different sources. But not spoken aloud. Elladan shielded his thoughts more carefully. His brother and sister as well as Lady Galadriel pulled away.

Surprisingly it was Lord Celeborn who hesitated, and sent a further thought to the child of his daughter. _'Relationships do not bloom in the light of a single day, nor month, but built moment by shared moment.'_

Elladan cast a sideways glance at the Lord of Lorien from the corner of his gray eyes. _'My son is not sure that he needs nor wants a father'._

Celeborn did not answer right away, leaving the younger elf to watch as Gloin gleefully played a few notes on the wooden whistle that Kuilaith had crafted for him. Elladan was even able to smile with the others as they listened.

_'None of us know the needs in our hearts as well as we are aware of the wants. Sometimes the needs and the wants are not the same. You are hurting. Your child is hurting. Perhaps you should stop trying to be a father and simply learn to know him. What is torn within each of you needs mending, and maybe you can heal together.'_

_'You approve of him?'_ Elladan asked cautiously.

Another lengthy pause, then an answer of sorts. _'No. I don't. But I do not entirely disapprove of him. He has shown he is more than I'd anticipated, however.'_

Elladan gave a huff of a breath and smiled at his twin, who had looked up in his direction, raising an eyebrow in inquiry. The elven father shook his head very slightly and turned to watch the merriment as the dwarves teased Bombur about the size of his new belt that Bofur had crafted for him.

"There wasn't a cow hide big enough, was there?" Teased Fili, even as the young blond winked at Bombur. "What did you do, skin a giant?"

Kili was laughing so hard he was coughing, while Dwalin pounded on his back 'helpfully'. Making the brunet protest with gestures, as he had no breath for words.

Thorin smiled at seeing his Company relaxing and enjoying themselves so. It was odd, with elves present and all. But everyone seemed in good spirits. Even the silver-haired leader of Lothlorien, while not appearing celebratory, was at least looking relaxed a bit. "Come. Let us get these gifts given. There's a feast and a hall full of hungry dwarves that will soon be arriving and we need to be down there.

Kili straightened up, shooting a glance at an unrepentant Dwalin. Then the young prince went over to the pile of presents he'd brought over from his own room. He picked up a nicely carved and stained wooden frame. He hesitated a moment, then walked over to the Lady Galadriel and her husband. The young prince twisted his mouth and then made the decision to bow his head slightly at the silver-haired Celeborn.

Surprised, the elf lord returned the gesture slowly.

Kili then grinned so wide it wasn't a wonder it didn't split his face. "I made this for her." He tilted his head at the gently smiling Lady. "Elladan, er …my …father, well he says it's not really the thing to give. But I didn't know that at the time I made it."

Celeborn's eyebrows rose in question.

"So I thought I'd let you judge it, whether or not I can give it to her. You being the one to marry her and all." Kili finished.

Unbidden, Elladan's mind flashed back to the image of Kuilaith's stunned face when he'd found out that Galadriel even had a husband. And how the elf must be really brave or really foolish. The picture in his head was so strong he shared it without meaning to.

Elrohir choked trying not to laugh. Arwen ducked her head immediately, playing with the gifts she'd already received.

Celeborn showed no reaction at all beyond a mere widening of his eyes as he accepted the proffered frame.

Galadriel's eyes lit up with amusement as she watched the newest member of her bloodline shift his weight on his feet rather nervously.

The silver-haired lord read the poem of Elenlote, speaking out the Sindarin in a musical intonation that showed Kili that yes …it did rhyme after all.

The dwarves all watched, not holding their breath, but still waiting to see the elf lord's reaction. They weren't sure why the poem might not be appropriate, but they hoped that Kili's gift might be deemed alright.

Celeborn finally came to the end of the poem, running his finger around the edge of the frame most carefully. "You made this yourself?"

Kili nodded, not able to read the elf lord's expression.

"Scribed this yourself?"

Kili nodded again, his stomach starting to get that butterfly feeling. Had he messed the poem up that badly?

Elrohir however, could read the expression on Celeborn's face. It wasn't anger or anything else negative. He smiled gently. "When Kuilaith was concussed and first saw our Galadriel, he mistook her for Elenlote."

Celeborn's eyes lit up and an actual smile played briefly over the elegant curve of his mouth. "Indeed?"

Kili scowled suddenly, feeling young and foolish as he shot a disparaging look behind him at his elvish uncle.

"I did almost the same, when I first saw her so long ago." Celeborn admitted with a fond look toward his wife of more than a few thousand years. "It is good to be reminded of the days when all was new. Love grows deep, but the fresh bloom of first sight is but once."

The dark-haired prince of two realms hesitated, his scowl disappearing as he realized that it might be alright.

"You may gift this to her, and I find it not inappropriate at all." Lord Celeborn handed the frame back to Kili with an even deeper bow of his head. He then actually smiled. "And I will refrain from asking you from whence you heard the poem of Elenlote."

From her seat next to the Lady Arwen, Tauriel's face went so red her freckles all but disappeared.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Cousin?"

Dis looked up, then around. She was standing in what had been her son's room, now bare, with everything packed, sold, or gifted away. Dain was alone. Her shoulders relaxed, aching a bit from how tightly she'd been holding herself together. "Where is everyone?"

Dain gave her a long look, stroking his beard in an unconscious gesture of nerves. "All gone home. Or setting up camp."

"Camp?" Dis asked.

"Too many of us to stay in your cabin." Dain pointed out, he paused for a moment before continuing. "The elders left in order to meet elsewhere for now."

"To talk about me in privacy, I suppose." Came the more than bitter response.

The leader of the Iron Hills shrugged helplessly. "Probably." He admitted. "Though to be honest, they've been talking about you ever since you announced you were having a second child."

Dis chuckled roughly, no humor in her at the moment. "How angry are they?" She didn't specify the 'they' she was asking about.

Dain licked his lips, noting that he needed something on his skin to keep them from chapping further. He was hardly vain, but he was practical enough to know that skin wasn't meant to crack. "I assume you mean those at Erebor and not the elders. Your dwarrow went through Rivendell it seems, on their journey. It wasn't till they left that the Elves realized just who Kili was and that he was kin to them."

Dis nodded to show she was attending his words, but she turned away to stare at a bare wall. She frowned at the marks that showed where Fili had used to hang his weapon belts and straps.

Watching her sadly, Dain continued. "They rushed after them. Him. Got to Erebor right in time to save our skins."

"So they claim." The dwarrowdam said dismissively.

"So I know to be true." Dain countered quickly, his voice firm and solid on this topic at least. "I was there. If the elves hadn't come, I would be crowned King Under the Mountain."

"Are you grateful or sorry?" Dis asked, her tongue loose in her head as she felt on the edge of her control.

Dain snorted, looking disgusted. "Don't be daft, cousin. I would never stand against Thorin and you well know it."

Dis bowed her head in apology. "Yes. That was unworthy of me."

The Iron Hills dwarrow gave her a telling look, but nodded to show he accepted her apology. He couldn't even imagine the stress she was laboring under right now. And it would only get worse when they arrived at Erebor. "The elves were ready to take Kili away with them that first night. Only they didn't because Fili stalled for time."

"Ever my brave lad, my golden lion. So protective and smart."

"And Kili?"

Dis smiled and shook her head. "Mothers have no favorites. You should know that. You need to have your own heir, Dain."

The Iron Hills leader snorted again, this time in resignation. "My advisors nag me on that subject, I don't need it from you too."

Dis looked up at her cousin then. "Fili is my first born, son of the love of my life. Proud, strong, brave and true. He is all that a dwarrow should be."

Dain didn't interrupt, he just nodded his agreement and waited for her to continue.

"Kili is no less for being the younger. I held no love for his father, but I regret nothing. There was not but joy in raising both my sons. He too is proud, strong, brave and true. His blood may not be pure, but he is dwarrow down to his bones."

Feeling his heart ache for his cousin, Dain sighed. "Dis. Taking a child from his father without telling him …."

The dwarrowdam looked up, her eyes fierce and piercing. "Could you have shared? Could you have sent your child off to live with strangers, elves? Even if only for a year here or there?"

Dain growled and ran a rough hand through his hair, grimacing at the grime of the journey. He needed a good wash as well as a good meal. "I have no answers for you. I have no words of comfort."

"I ask for none." Dis said, straightening her spine and staring at him proudly. "I chose my path and I will not leave it now that rocks grow to block my way."

"Rocks don't grow." Grumbled the entirely literally minded dwarrow on a deep sigh. "How? How did this happen?"

A startled laugh on the verge of an emotional break-down escaped the dwarrowdam. Her eyes were too bright, too wide, and her voice a little too hoarse as she turned to stare at him. "You want the technical details? Who was on top? What body part went where?"

Dain's eyes closed in exasperation as he shook his head forcefully. "Stop! I don't need that visually in my head!"

"Why? Because you're not attracted to elves?" Dis hissed at him. "Well, neither am I."

Dain swallowed hard, unable to meet her eyes anymore. "You did what you were asked, and it was wrong of the king for asking."

Dis watched him, seeing his discomfort and embarrassment. She took a deep breath and tried to blow out her anger, frustration and yes …fear. "King Thror was desperate. We'd lost Frerin. Father's mind was slipping even then, though he was trying to hold on for all our sakes. Thorin was so damned young and brave. But he was the last of us."

"Except for Fili."

Dis nodded. "Thror was nearly lost to us as well, in his fever to reclaim Erebor. He saw the taking of Khazad-dum as a step in that direction as we all know. But. In the quiet moments, when he was with us in mind as well as body, he enjoyed Fili. Adored him really. And I think it killed a part of the king when Nehili died, even though he'd been against my marriage at first." She felt a tear slip free from whatever kept moisture within the eyes, and she did not bother to wipe it away as it tracked down her cheek. "Thror wanted more children in the bloodline. The loss of Frerin was a devastating blow."

"For us all." Dain said, echoing her sorrow with his own. "He left us too soon."

Dis sighed and turned to face her cousin head-on. "I did what I thought was best, because my grandfather and father needed me. I left the marriage later, well, those reasons are mine. But they do not include any foul behavior on the part of my husband."

Dain nodded slowly, much relieved to hear that Elladan had treated her fairly at least. Had not mistreated her at least. "Kili?"

"Is mine."

Dain dropped his head heavily, hearing her words like stones in his heart. She would brook no argument on this point, he could tell. "Lad is part theirs."

"They knew where I was." Dis' nose went up into the air.

Stroking his beard again, Dain shook his head. "It doesn't sound like it was love for either of you. You left your husband knowing he would not follow. Not telling him of his own child, his only child, was not well done."

"Perhaps not." Dis said slowly. "But I regret only having been found out. My children are not pieces on a game board. They are mine. I gave birth to them. Both of them. Elladan? Didn't want me. Do you know how many times in the four months we were together that we mated?"

"I don't want to know!" Dain was quick to shout.

"I had to do everything!" Dis was unable to stop herself or her words. "Do you think that elf saw me, when we were lying together? His body worked. Barely. Males are males. They respond. But it wasn't …"

Dain stepped forward almost angrily, interrupting her tirade. "I don't care! I don't care if you were only together once or every night! The result is the same. You were with child and you LEFT! Kili is over seventy years old. In all that time you did nothing to let your husband know. You say that the elves knew where you were? Well, you knew good and well where they were too!"

Dis glared at him. Dain glared right back.

The dwarrow ruler from the Iron Hills stared at his cousin, still a beautiful dwarrowdam and regal in her stance. "I have no place in this argument. This is between you and your husband. Yes, it must have been tough on you, I understand. The dwarves will stand with you because …well, you're you and you're us. But know that many will NOT understand how you could have kept the son from the father." It was a given in their culture, something so basic it might as well be physically a part of them. Bloodlines were everything. Fatherhood was precious to them all, it was the basis for their greetings, their celebrations, their very beings.

"You don't know."

Dain nodded at her, his eyes fierce. "No. I don't. I do know you were hurt by it all." He paused for a moment before continuing, no give in his resolve. "You have hurt him deeply as well."

"I don't care." Dis said, though it made her shaky on the inside as she recalled the quiet, grieving stillness that had been her husband.

Dain nodded grimly. "Do you care that you've also hurt your son?"

Dis' stone heart cracked a bit right then and she gasped, a second tear following the track laid forth by its predecessor.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"This is very fine work indeed." Nuluin hummed, pleased with the herb press crafted for him. "Though I hesitate to accept. I would not want to take it with me back to Rivendell when it will be needed here." His eyes gleamed warmly with admiration, tracing the decorative inlaid silver work on the cover depicting wild roses.

Balin flushed, pleased with the compliments and shaking his head already. "Nay, nay. I'm making several for our healing hall from the description that you gave me. However, that one is for you. For the wonderful work you've done in protecting our own." He waved a hand at Fili and Kili who were sitting with Tauriel and Arwen while comparing the fine wine goblets that Thorin had gifted to each of his nephews. Goblets fit for a king.

"Nain." Kili said in an almost whisper, pointing at the name rune for Tauriel's benefit. Smiling up at her happily. "A great king of old."

Fili shook his head at the duo. "Nain II." He corrected. "These aren't aged enough to be from the first Nain's rule."

"The rune says clearly, Nain!" Kili growled, sticking out his chin as he pointed at the engraving in question while shooting his brother an ill look. Embarrassed to be called out in front of the red-headed she-elf.

Fili rolled his blue eyes. "Of course it says Nain! They were BOTH named Nain!"

Thorin sighed and shook his head at Dwalin, who chuckled. "Kili!" Barked the king.

The dark-haired prince turned around, glaring until he saw Thorin's face. He lost the temper quickly as he grinned and tossed the goblet in the air, catching it easily. "Yes, uncle?"

"Your brother is right. They're from the reign of the second King Nain." Thorin ignored the disappointment on Kili's face, and the victorious look on that of his heir.

"You're an idiot." Fili poked his younger sibling's shoulder, the move both showing the brothers competitive nature and affection. Kili growled, but didn't retaliate, not wanting to seem childish to the she-elf sitting beside him.

"But it is poor form for Fili to gloat, so you should get the next present." Thorin continued.

Fili's grin faded while Kili's grew widely. "Now who's the idiot?"

"Both of you." Dwalin commented dryly.

"Perhaps I should give the two my gifts." Elladan spoke up. "The time is growing later and Kuilaith has been coughing more as he grows tired." He then turned to give a pointed look at the blond dwarf. "Fili practically has dark circles under his eyes as well."

Fili and Kili both shot each other a look, because basically, all joking and teasing aside. They didn't know what to make of the elf who was father to one and adoptive father to the other. Kili was torn, wanting to like Elladan and the same time wanting nothing to do with him. Confusion was all he had to hold onto right now.

Fili felt indecisive as well, basically hating the elf for having a claim on his sibling and yet feeling sorry for him at the same time. Mixed in with that was a deep seated feeling that somehow he hadn't been deemed good enough as a second-son. That had he been, perhaps Elladan would have come after them after mam left.

This had made things especially difficult for both brothers when trying to decide what to gift to Elladan and his twin brother. In the end, Fili had made a fine leather travel pouch, 'for things', with a matching one for Elrohir. The only difference had been in the intricate leather embossing, a finely fletched arrow for one and a horse for the other.

Kili had mixed up a hair conditioner for Elrohir, one that didn't smell like the woodsy scent the elves normally used. For his father, he had reluctantly carved out some extremely well crafted fishing lures. Elladan had exclaimed nicely over the gifts from both brothers, but they knew the gifts would not be considered highly personal.

"We don't need anything." Kili said nervously, then winced as he realized how his words might be taken. "I don't mean that we don't want anything." He looked toward the ceiling, embarrassed. "Only that you didn't have to …"

"They're not embarrassing gifts." Elladan promised.

"Not like announcing your virginity in the hallway outside uncle's office." Fili whispered.

Kili's eyes flew open wide as he suddenly felt like someone had dunked him in ice. Tauriel and Arwen's presence did not help. With true shock, anger and complete humiliation his sharp elbow found Fili's side in automatic brotherly retaliation.

"Lad!" Oin bellowed, appalled as the younger sibling came entirely too close to hitting Fili's healing wound as the blond doubled over in pain.

Kili's dark eyes were wide with distress, catching onto Fili's arm in support and self-disgust. "Damn it, I'm sorry!"

"This is getting out of hand." Dwalin growled, running a hand over his face. "Both of you settle down, shut up, and hold out your hands."

"And say thank you when he's done handing out your presents." Balin added in his authoritative grandfatherly manner.

Fili grimaced as he straightened, closing one eye as he took a breath and held it for a second. Then he shook his blond head and frowned. "Not children."

"Then don't act like dwarflings." Thorin snapped at the duo.

"It was my fault." Kili spoke up quickly, misery in his dark eyes.

"I goaded him." Fili said resolutely, obviously not wanting to shift the blame entirely onto his younger brother.

Thorin sighed and pointed at them both. "And I don't care."

All of this Lord Celeborn watched with an impassive air and Kili felt fairly certain he was NOT making a good impression on the family patriarch.

Trying not to laugh at the shredded pride of the two young and yet basically adult males, Elladan pressed his lips together and quietly handed Fili a package.

"Thank you." Offered the blond prince, refusing to glance at Balin even as he offered the words. With what dignity he could muster he opened his present, a small travel tinder box. He slid it open with his crafter's fingers, tracing the flint and steel set contained within. He spoke quietly, without a change in his expression. "This will come in handy."

It was as impersonal a gift as the one he'd made for Elladan. Yet somehow the blond dwarf had hoped for something else. Inwardly he pushed the thought away. He didn't need anything from the tall elf. The male wasn't even his real father after all.

Elladan actually smiled and nodded at the young dwarf. "It will never fail to spark. Not in wind, rain or snow. Not even underwater."

Fili stilled, his fingers still on the flint set. Wonder started to bloom within him as he held his breath. Bofur and several of the other dwarves sat up, suddenly intrigued. "Bespelled?" The hatted dwarf asked speculatively.

The elf lord nodded. "It's from the High Elves of the First Age. We no longer have the songs of power to craft such. It belonged to my mother's father, then it was mine, and now it is yours."

Fili's stunned blue eyes stared at Elladan, then shot quickly over at Lord Celeborn as if to weigh if that worthy would object to the passing of such a thing to such a one as he. They weren't even blood.

Lord Celeborn's left eyebrow rose a fraction, but he otherwise showed no reaction. If the High Elf had known in advance of the gift, it did not show on his face.

Thorin, as stunned as his nephews, sought out Dwalin's gaze. But the dwarven warrior didn't look any less surprised then he himself did. It was a tremendous gift. A family heirloom. The dwarven king shifted in his seat, wanting to protest the gift strongly but having no way to do so that didn't sound petty and stupid.

Fili had no such reserve. "I cannot accept this." He pushed the tinder box with the flint and steel within back toward the tall elf lord."

Elrohir smiled fondly. "Yes, you can. It is a gift." Then the two twins nodded together in concert. "I want you to have it."

The blue eyes of the crown prince appeared guarded even as he shot a nervous glance at Lord Celeborn, who had not moved even slightly. Still, Fili swallowed and shook his head. When Elladan refused to take the box with the gift back, the prince put it down on the table and stood. He looked meaningfully at Thorin for a moment, then turned and left the room.

Celeborn stirred, only stopping when Galadriel's hand settled on his forearm. Elladan looked saddened, and started to move to follow the dwarven prince.

"No, me." Elrohir stood quickly, reassuring his brother. "See to Kuilaith's gift."

"Hope this one goes better." Muttered Gloin darkly, drawing a look of ire from Dwalin, while Oin just looked confused having heard very little of the last few minutes.

"What's going on?" Oin asked loudly, but no one seemed willing to share an answer.

Elladan handed his twin brother the tinder box set, while Kili looked like a storm cloud about to burst. The young dark-haired prince half stood, ready to run after his older sibling.

Elrohir put his hand on Kili's shoulder, stopping him. "Let me. Please. Stay here. You have a gift to receive."

Kili's head was shaking and he was ready to fight off his elven uncle's touch.

"I'll join you." Thorin's harsh grumble of a voice brooked no disagreement. He pinned his youngest nephew with a hard eyed look. "Stay."

"But …" Kili's knees fairly buckled beneath him, making him sit back down with more force than necessary. His eyes were wide with distress and the need to go to Fili.

Elrohir's hand patted Kuilaith in comfort, ending with a small squeeze on his shoulder. "It will be fine."

Kili watched his uncles, both dwarven and elven, leave the room. It was only the clearing of Elladan's throat that had him focusing back in on the fact that everyone in the room was literally staring at him.

The dark-haired princeling blushed lightly and sighed in resignation. "Well?"

Elladan smiled ruefully at the rather grouchy sounding word from his son. "Look this way."

Kili looked up, feeling uneasy still.

The tall elf lord studied his child's face for a moment, an almost sad smile on his face. Elladan then looked toward Glorfindel, and the ancient elf warrior handed him something slim, rounded and golden.

Celeborn did shift a bit, but did not seem upset. Galadriel gave the smallest of nods with a soft smile.

"What is it?" Kili asked, confused, and frankly with his attention still divided as he wondered what was going on with Fili and how soon he could get out of this room to find out.

Elladan hesitated as he reached for Kili's face, raising his eyebrows. He stood there, watching.

The young princeling watched him right back, until he suddenly realized that his father was waiting for permission. Kili filled his cheeks roundly with air and blew out a breath of frustration even as he nodded.

Elladan reached down and pushed Kili's hair back from his face as he placed a golden circlet onto the half-dwarven youth.

Glorfindel smiled and lifted a cup in salute while Arwen literally cheered happily, grinning widely.

Unsure, Kili's hand rose to touch the diadem on his head, surprised to find the gold was warm rather than cool to his fingers.

Oin shoved his brother in the side. "I thought you said there were rules about gifting jewelry to elves?"

Gloin pursed his lips, nodding. "But Kili's a dwarf."

"Kuilaith is partially elf." Bofur pointed out, playing the argumentative side, waving his hand back and forth in a half-and-half gesture.

Kili's expression fell into a scowl as he narrowed his eyes on his father. "You were the one who threw a fit about me giving out a piece of jewelry, and you're giving me this?"

Bombur snorted, as if the difference were obvious to anyone with half a brain. Bofur grinned. "I'm sure that this diadem has a meaning far different than the rose pin you gave Tauriel."

"It's not a rose!" Kili protested, then could have bit his tongue as Bofur's expression sharpened with curiosity.

The hatted dwarf peered over at the red-haired elf lass in question, who seemed to have no trouble with the sudden scrutiny, Kili wondered if that was a learned trait or something purely elvish. And if so, why didn't he have it? "It's not a rose." He repeated, his chin up and proud.

Dwalin grumped and shrugged. "I thought it a poorly done rose." He admitted.

Appalled, Kili glared at the dwarven warrior. "It's not a rose!" It was becoming a litany. "And it's NOT poorly done!"

"It's meant to be the flower of Elenlote, is it not?" Galadriel's voice smoothed over the ruffled feathers of Kuilaith's temper.

Celeborn now looked a trifle confused. "I too assumed it was a rose of some sort. As for Elenlote, the poem says the flower would be made of starlight, not …red." He pointed out.

Kili twisted his mouth to the side, mumbling. Bofur grabbed Oin's hearing horn from his startled hand and put it to his own ear, leaning forward with an eager expression. "What was that, laddie?"

"That's prince laddie." Balin pointed out with some amusement.

Kili sighed and griped. "It's the Elenlote flower …under the light of a Fire Moon."

Bofur blinked and ignored Oin's punch to the chest as the healer tried to get his hearing horn back. Absently he shoved the older dwarf back slightly. Gloin immediately retaliated with a kick to the shins. Bofur winced and handed the horn back to its owner, though his eyes didn't leave Kili. "Then what are the brown twisty vines around it?"

Arwen's laugh trilled through the room. "The poem of Elenlote is only one side of the story, there is also her fascination with and love for the earth."

Bofur scratched his head, reaching under his hat in a less than couth manner to do so. "Earth? Fire Moon? I don't get it. It makes no sense."

Arwen continued smiling rather happily as she looked at the increased color in Tauriel's face. "I think it makes perfect sense, to one person at least. And she's the only one who matters, in this case at least."

Bofur looked back and forth questioningly between Tauriel and Kili, both of whom did not meet his eyes. Suddenly the dwarf laughed in delight and slapped his hand loudly on the table. "Well done then! Well done!"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili growled low and menacing, not bothering to turn around. "I don't want to talk to you."

Standing next to the tall elf warrior, Thorin eyed the straight and proud posture of his nephew. Taking a moment to admire how fine a dwarf Fili had turned into, the dwarven king spoke up. "Does that include me?"

Fili's head turned, his braids and blond hair framing his face like a lion. Blue eyes glanced back, wincing as he saw that he was being followed by not one, but by two uncles. He didn't answer right away. When he did speak, he sounded tired. Resigned. "I did not give you or your brother a gift equal to what he tried to give me."

"Such wasn't expected, nor required." Elrohir answered cautiously, trying to get a sense of the blond's mood.

"You misunderstand." Fili shot him a guarded look. "It was deliberate."

Thorin grunted.

"I don't want to …See, I forgot." The crown prince sighed, taking a deep breath. Neither uncle spoke up, so Fili continued. "You put yourself between danger and me and Kili."

Elrohir's face was blank, watchful in that way that elves all seemed to have. "I had already put you in danger by having you both out there without guards. I could not allow further injury to either you or Kuilaith."

"Kili." The response was immediate, and final, at least in the eyes of a certain blond prince. "His name is Kili and he is my brother."

If Elrohir was startled by the bedrock firmness in Fili's voice, he didn't show it at all.

"And that's what I forgot. In all the time I …or we, spent with you and your brother …you putting yourself in danger to protect us …and having fun with your sister over a board game …I forgot the most basic of things." He turned to face both males. "I forgot that you're here to steal my brother. I am not on your side. I will not ever be on your side."

Elrohir cocked his head to the left, the long fall of his dark hair hanging down like a silken waterfall. "Do you think this gift is a bribe? For that is not so."

"Do you deny that the Lady Arwen is here to soothe us all, to make elves seem better?" There was definite accusation in the dwarf's voice.

"My sister is all that is kind, gentle and good." Elrohir answered slowly, carefully. "Why Lady Galadriel sent for her is basically obvious, as you no doubt guessed. But Arwen presents no false-face. She is as you have seen her, that is …if she puts a better image of elves in front of you it is because she is better than your thoughts on our race."

Thorin grunted. He wasn't sure that was the complete truth, but he'd seen nor sensed anything to contradict the elf's words thus far. "Fili. Nephew. I will not try to convince you of anything. If you want the elves to leave you alone, it shall be as you say."

Elrohir's gray eyes slanted side-ways without turning his head, as he shot a questioning look at the dwarf ruler beside him.

Fili shrugged, looking far younger than his age in his loose shirt and sleep trousers that he'd been wearing while recovering from his injuries. "I will not accept that gift."

"Then throw it in the midden heap." Elrohir said without any asperity in his voice, as if he really meant his words. "What has been given cannot be un-given. What you do with the gift beyond the giving is your choice."

"You and Elladan are only being friendly to me in order to get closer to Kili." The dwarvish prince said harshly.

"Then why didn't I let those arrows kill you?"

The words stunned both Thorin and Fili, who stared at the elf lord in confusion.

"If my plan was solely to gain a greater closeness with him, or to get him to want to leave Erebor ….I shouldn't have tried to keep you alive. You die and Kuilaith becomes inconsolable. Alone. Easy for myself and Elladan to manipulate in his grief."

Thorin nearly choked. "Hardly alone!" He protested.

Elrohir shook his head, pinning the dwarven king with his gray eyes. "You were the uncle who left Kuilaith behind, injured and dying. Walked away from him for a mountain of treasure. You cannot say that he did not feel abandoned."

The King Under the Mountain hissed in mounting rage.

"Or is that not how it really was? That no matter how your actions were perceived, your intent was good. Just like our gift tonight to Fili is not the bribe that he is mistaking it for?" Elrohir continued, deliberately deflating Thorin's outrage and leaving him gaping in astonishment. "My brother gave that tinder box to you, Fili. Because he wanted to do so. Nothing more."

"Oh?" Asked the still skeptical dwarven prince. "Just like he wanted me when I was four? It wasn't me that you and the elves of Rivendell rode across half of Middle Earth in order to face down a dragon and several armies in order to find and save." Fili sneered. "So forgive my thinking that it is too great a gift unless you are trying to get me on your side. To reassure Kili and get him to trust you all."

The door flew open and Kili himself stood outlined in the frame by the light in the hallway. His dark and worried gaze travelled over the group, only settling down when he spied Fili.

Thorin shook his head. "Didn't think you'd take this long to come after us." He said dryly. "Come here, lad." His eyes went immediately to the golden circlet on his youngest nephew's forehead and he frowned.

Fili sniffed and deliberately opened his arms in a silent call.

Thorin's words didn't even register in light of his brother's need. Kili went straight into his brother's embrace, being held close even though he was the taller of the two. The dwarven uncle frowned at this deliberate reminder of where Kili's loyalties were housed.

Fili turned slightly, unable to look at Elrohir over his sibling's shoulder. When he was angled enough to peer over at the tall elf, he nodded grimly. "You can't have him."

Elladan, who'd obviously walked in following Kuilaith, paused at the doorway. "He is my son."

Kili tensed at those words, which in turn drew a growl of protest from the elder brother.

"You are my second-son." Elladan continued, only to be interrupted almost immediately.

"No!" Fili barked rudely. "You and your father and all the other elves of Rivendell would have let me walk into my doom in the midst of dragon flame. You cannot claim parentage now."

Elladan started forward, only to stop as his twin brother raised a hand in a mute signal. The elvish uncle turned to give Fili a lengthy look. "The Lady Dis took you with her when she left. Told my brother in a note that she was taking nothing that belonged to him. It was a clear signal that she did not want us in your life."

"How do you know?" Snapped the blond.

"Because she told us." Elladan answered quietly.

"Every day." Elrohir confirmed. "Aierstalder, you have to understand. You were four. We could not in clear conscience ride into Ered Luin and demand custody of a fully blooded dwarven child with no shared blood between us. Your mother was very determined that you did not grow up with 'strange elvish ways' as she called it."

"What did you call him?" Kili let go of the death-grip he had on his older sibling, stepping slightly back but not so far that he had to break contact altogether.

Fili's blue eyes were round and huge. Thorin fought not to sigh or close his eyes. It seemed the dwarven crown prince remembered that nickname in some context at least.

"I know that word." Fili said slowly, unsure in what way he knew that word. When he remembered he let out a sudden hiss of shock and dismay, his eyes sliding immediately to Thorin.

The dwarven king responded to the mute appeal and walked over to both of his sister-sons, opening his arms to them. Despite the events at the end of their quest, there was no hesitation in the lads. Fili and Kili clung to Thorin like a life-line, burying their heads against either side of his chest.

Elladan stopped breathing for a moment, until his lungs reminded them that they had a job to do.

Elrohir fought to keep his roiling emotions, including absolute jealousy, from showing in either expression or gesture. His gray eyes sought out his twin and the two had a moment of shared hurt before starting to turn away. To leave the dwarves to their moment.

Fili, never lifting his blond head from the comfort of Thorin's hold, spoke up. He had to repeat himself to be heard. "I accept your gift."

Elladan stilled, unsure. His twin froze, it was his turn to hold his breath for a moment.

"I'm still not on your side." The crown prince looked up. "Just so you know."

Both elf lords nodded, grateful to have gained any ground with the young dwarf. Even if was only an inch that they gained, or less.

Thorin's arm tightened around both of his nephews before letting them go one at a time. "You are sure, Fili?"

"I remember the word Aierstalder." The blond prince said haltingly. "Maybe." His intense gaze seemed to bore a hole though Thorin as the king gave a most reluctant nod.

"I don't." Whined Kili, who reached up to scratch his forehead when something unfamiliar shifted up there. He frowned as his fingers encountered the golden diadem.

Thorin snorted as he eyed what his nephew was doing. "Does that have a meaning?" He wasn't sure if he wanted to know. But he absolutely needed to know. Was it a signal that Kili was the heir of more than one realm?

Elladan and Elrohir shared another one of those spooky elf twin moments, as if speaking to each other in their minds.

Thorin called them on it. "You two look like you can hold entire conversations mind to mind."

"Indeed." Elladan didn't even bother to deny it, nodding his head in acknowledgement. Thorin's eyes widened in shock. "As can most of the High Elves. And Mithrandir as well as the other wizards."

"I will NOT have you in my mind!" Thorin barked loudly, temper rising at an alarming rate.

Kili hunched his shoulders and reached up, dragging the golden circlet from his forehead with a deep scowl. "Does this let you read my mind?"

Elrohir couldn't help his sudden laugh, leaving Elladan to explain. "It is a form of silent speaking, nothing more. I can share words, or perhaps a mental image with my brother and several of my family or a close friend. Only when we are in sight of one another. I cannot read their thoughts, nor that of any of the dwarves."

"Galadriel can." Kili muttered darkly, taking a wild guess.

Elladan shrugged, for he himself wasn't sure as to the extent of the powers his mother's mother held within her. "I have wondered to that myself sometimes. But I think not to the extent that you worry over. The Lady of Lorien is hardly intrusive, but is highly intuitive."

"What does that mean?" Thorin asked, his temper barely held in check.

Elrohir spread his hands to show he was being open, that he was holding nothing back. "There are a lot of things that my brother and I got away with as elflings that we should not have, if thoughts could be read so easily."

"Arwen too?" Fili asked.

Elladan chuckled at the thought. "Hardly. Our sister is the perfect child. Sweet and obedient. The one to never cause our father a moments worry."

Fili shifted his weight, remembering his afternoon spent teaching Arwen a complicated board game. He was thinking that the elf lords were a bit misled when it came to their younger, and female, sibling. She had a devious mind for strategy and a quick wit. For now though, he decided not to argue the point as there was no reason to do so.

Kili was peering closely at his diadem, the gift from his elven father. "Is this a way to read my mind or control me?"

Elladan snorted in amusement. "Hardly. It was mine. Made for me by the smiths in Rivendell and sung into power by my own father, Lord Elrond."

Thorin's muscles nearly seized as his mind honed in on part of that explanation. "Sung into power?"

Elrohir shrugged. "Elf magic. Not the stuff of legend, of course. Merely a song of protection and …" Here the elf lord hesitated, his expression showing he wished he'd stopped speaking one word too late.

"And?" Thorin demanded.

"Love." Elladan finished for his twin. "Protection and love."

"Love cannot be bespelled." Fili argued, looking ready to fight if given half a chance, despite his injury.

"No." Elrohir nodded at the blond dwarf. "Love certainly cannot be created through magic. Or dispelled either." His expression was rueful. "Many a heartache would have been avoided in our long elvish history if that were not the case."

"And we would not be here." Elladan added dryly, making the dwarves stare. Then the trio realized that Luthien's own match might have been avoided if her family had been able to sway her mind in another direction.

"Oh." Fili and Kili both breathed out in concert.

Thorin was not deterred. "Protection and love. Explain."

Elladan seemed nervous, if such could be said of an elf who normally gave little away with his expressions. "The songs of power are not those of the First Age, but still …they were breathed and sung into the making of that diadem. The protection offered is a small thing, it will heat up somewhat when there might be unseen dangers."

Kili startled, nearly dropping the golden circlet. "It was warm when I put it on!" He said with wide-eyed trepidation.

Elrohir laughed lightly, even as he shook his head. "That was just the initial response to a new bearer. It recognizes the Light of the Eldar within you."

"So it wouldn't work on anyone not elven?" Thorin prodded.

"It wouldn't work on anyone not of our bloodline." Elladan clarified. "And my mother's mother aided me in singing Kuilaith's name into it so that it would recognize him." His lips drooped into a sad smile for a moment. "That was what we were doing on the day of the ambush, and why I wasn't with you at the river."

Kili turned the circlet over and over in his hands, feeling unsteady but pretty sure he didn't want to be wearing the foreign thing. "It's alive?"

"No." Thorin barked, yanking the diadem out of his nephew's hand as he inspected the gift. He nodded as if to himself. "It's cold to my touch."

Thorin looked at Fili, who took his unspoken cue and reached out to run a calloused finger over the gold piece. "Cold." The blond announced.

Kili grimaced as he jerked the diadem out of his relative's hand. He looked unhappily at the object, then up at his father. "Warm." He frowned, clearly upset. "Did you bespell it? Or me?"

"It." Elladan specified quickly.

"Protection and love." Thorin growled. "Explain the love part of this song of power. If love can neither be created nor destroyed by magic, what does it do?"

"Reminds." Elrohir said very quietly. "It reminds."

"Nothing active." Elladan was quick to offer reassurances. "It does not meddle with your thoughts or feelings. By its presence alone it reminds you that you are not alone in this world. The love part of the song is not actual magic, simply a reminder."

"That sounds too strange." Kili admitted.

Thorin suddenly snorted, some amusement sparking in his blue eyes. "You carry a dwarven rune stone from your mam to remind you that you are loved and have promised to return to her hearty and hale." He looked at Fili, but the blond shook his head.

"Mam made me promise, but didn't give me a token. Said I didn't need it to remind me not to be reckless like Kili did."

"Hey!" Protested the youngest person in the room.

Everyone in the room except for Kili suddenly smiled, just a bit. It was enough to dissipate a lot of the tension. Moods lightened, hurts were soothed, though not gone. A moment of shared lives and feelings.

"Put it on, nephew." Thorin directed, not even sure why he would want Kili to wear the gift. Only that he liked the thought of some sort of protection. Even if it was elvish in origin.

The dark-eyed prince's gaze widened in surprise.

"Or do I need to sing a song of power to remind you that you still are under my command?" Thorin's mood was teasing, even as he fake glowered at Kili to hammer in his point.

The young elven-dwarven prince grinned and put the circlet back on his head.

This time when everyone smiled, it was just a little easier.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Magic. Don't want to go overboard with magic. But it is part of the canon and should be included. Tolkien wrote about Dwarven magic and their clever toys, so I used that. Tolkien wrote about the elves songs of power. So I used that. The mind-to-mind speaking of the elves? Straight from the canon. I limited it to 'in sight' distance for my own purposes in this story.
> 
> There will be brief mentions of Bofur and Bifur's gifts to others in the following chapter. Along with Nori. No. I did not include him in this chapter and it was deliberate, but I have not forgotten him! Galadriel's gifts to Fili and Kili will also come in the next (or next-next) chapter depending on length and pacing.
> 
> As always, hope you enjoyed! Thank you!


	23. In which there are apologies and plans

"I'm sorry." Fili pressed his lips together tightly, as if contemplating something difficult. Finally he took a deep, steadying breath. "Your gift shames me. I was thinking uncharitable things, and …I'm sorry."

Kili looked down at his toes, wiggling them inside of his mismatched socks. His older brother stepping up and apologizing was making him feel worse. The golden diadem currently on his forehead felt warm and comforting against his skin. But he hardly deserved the gift. "I'm sorry too."

Thorin turned his head to look at the two elf lords to see how they were reacting. Elves usually wore blank expressions, giving little away. But the dwarven uncle thought he could see some sadness in the depths of Elladan's gray eyes.

"You two have nothing to apologize for." Said Kili's father.

"I was rude, and thoughtless." Fili bit out the words as if they tasted as bitter as they felt.

"I …" Kili winced. There was so much he needed to apologize for, but for most of it he was still confused. Perhaps he was taking out his frustration in the wrong way, but he couldn't help how he felt. Still, his behavior had been less than savory. His tongue unhinged and moved without consciously deciding what to say. "I didn't ask if you even liked fishing."

Elrohir had to fight not to laugh, turning his head to stare at the wall.

Elladan nodded. "I'm not a fanatic about fishing, but it is something I have enjoyed in the past." He said, thinking of the finely crafted and yet impersonal fishing lures his son had made for him. "Perhaps you like fishing and will join me?"

Kili's eyes went wide in sudden distress, but not because of being in Elladan's presence for an afternoon. Or not entirely.

Fili and Thorin threw wild looks at each other, and then had to fight even harder than Elrohir had in order not to laugh. Thorin even started coughing to cover himself.

"Not big on fishing?" Elrohir guessed, his voice deliberately light and non-judgmental.

Fili couldn't help himself as he finally gave in and started laughing. Which led to wrapping his arms around his still painful chest wound. "Ow!"

Thorin grinned. "Does fishing involve patience?" When both of the elven twins looked at him as if that answer was obvious, his grin widened further. "Then it doesn't involve Kili."

Elladan's lips curved upward, sensing a break in the anger and hurt. Wanting to move forward, but on unsure emotional ground, he ventured forth. "I'm sure that isn't the case. I have come to understand that my son is an extremely good hunter with his bow. That definitely involves patience."

Kili started to smile, only to settle back into confusion. It was nice to be defended, but did it have to be from the father he was determined to keep at a distance?

Elrohir seemed to sense the inner turmoil of the half-elven prince. "My brother's heart already has no barriers to you. Pushing him away will only accomplish nothing."

Thorin ignored the comment, going back to the topic of Kili's lack of patience. "My nephew has often informed me that tracking a beast through the woods is DOING something. As opposed to sitting still and waiting for a fish to decide if it is hungry."

"Ah." Elladan nodded, looking terribly elegant and graceful in his elvish robes. "Perhaps you would like to go fishing with me?" He said, looking in a new direction.

Fili startled heavily, finding himself the focus of the elf lord. "I'm not your son." The words slipped by him without his consent.

Elladan blinked nervously. "I am supposed to be your second-father. Something I have obviously not fulfilled well. Your earlier apology is not necessary for it is I who owe you so many more."

Elrohir seemed pleased with his brother's words, looking back and forth between his twin and the blond prince of Erebor. "We did not have a right to follow you. But we should have done so anyway."

Thorin shifted his weight, now uncomfortable. "That would not have gone over well." He admitted, thinking on what would have happened if two elves had shown up in Ered Luin demanding access to a four year old dwarfling. Ceremony or no.

"So we thought at the time." Elrohir bowed his head in regret.

"No." Elladan sighed, sadness weighing heavily in his gray eyed gaze. "My brother wanted to try, to either go after you or write or something. It was I that had difficulties. Fili. You were, are, mortal. After the loss of …Bainnid." He still stumbled over her name even nearly eight decades later. "Saruman was trying to offer me counsel, but I am afraid that I could not face getting too close to someone I knew I would lose to mortality."

Kili groaned.

Elladan's gaze sharpened and moved to his dark-eyed son. "I was wrong. I was being a coward, and did not realize the scope of my mistake." He paused and then told them the bare truth. "These last several decades I have been breathing, but not really living. In spite of the difficulties presented, I am nothing but grateful to find you both."

Fili and Kili made slight sounds of protest.

"I could have had you both in my life if not for my poor decisions, I only hope you will not count me too late."

Both princes felt the pull of emotional need, but hesitated as their eyes sought out Thorin. The entirety of their young lives, he had been their compass. The model. The ideal. Even with the revelation during and following the quest that Thorin was merely a dwarrow like everyone else it did not dim their regard for him.

The dwarven king stared back at them stoically, unsure of how to respond himself. Yet he himself was not immune to the depth of emotions swirling around this group. As much as he wanted to simply keep hating the elves, they were showing themselves to be far more than he'd ever anticipated. Finally Thorin stirred, as if coming to some sort of conclusion. "Fili likes fishing much better than Kili does."

Unspoken permission. He would not stand in the way.

Kili's head twirled quickly to his brother, who was looking stunned and unsure. Finally the blond nodded his head so slowly his mustache beads barely swayed. "I do enjoy a good afternoon fishing on occasion." He admitted cautiously.

"Thorin?" Elladan asked cautiously, making an effort to match the one he sensed the king had just gifted to him.

Thorin looked as startled as his nephews felt to realize he was being asked to go along on the fishing trip. His eyebrows rose nearly as high as his hairline. "Oh, ah. I usually …" He shook his head, stumbling over his reply.

"Have work to do." Fili and Kili said in unison, and a quick shared grin.

Elrohir smiled. "It seems Kuilaith is not the only one that has difficulty with patience."

Thorin blinked, almost got mad, and then suddenly laughed unexpectedly. "No. No he's not." The king admitted with more than a little humor.

"Fishing is not for me." Elrohir admitted. "I much prefer riding. But wouldn't mind hunting."

Kili stirred and found himself nodding, simply relieved that the tension seemed to be disappearing. "I like hunting. And Erebor needs to fill her larders for this winter, it will be a lean one." He said, even though everyone already knew that.

Thorin stirred, looking like a cloud suddenly covered the sunlight.

Elladan straightened, wondering if the king was about to protest the proposed outings after all.

Thorin noted the wariness in the elf and shook his head quickly. "No, no. It's fine. I just think more should go, for safety. I don't like the smell of that ambush. Or the fact that Sauron is active in Mordor once more." He did not mention the written offer of a bounty on his own head, the one written in Black Speech. "I will have no more injuries."

The elf twins understood the concern immediately. "I know Glorfindel adores fishing." Elrohir exaggerated, then as his twin brother grinned, he added. "Or he likes sitting along a river bank drinking and telling jokes without bait on his hook."

"Think we can slip a lure on the end of his hook while he's not looking?" Elladan teased, drawing a conspiring smile from a certain blond prince. "With any luck he'll get a large catch that will pull him into the water."

"Bombur fishes." Fili added, his blue eyes showing relief at the quick nod of the elves. "Nori."

"Not Nori." Thorin spoke quickly, shaking his head. "He's …occupied."

Kili grimaced. "I wondered where he was." But sensing his uncle's reluctance, did not ask.

"Balin doesn't mind fishing." Thorin continued, thinking hard. "Dwalin would be far more comfortable hunting."

"Gloin?" Elrohir suggested. "What does he prefer?"

All three male dwarrow chuckled fondly. "Making money." Fili allowed. "He's not much on things unless it makes him money or he has no other way to put food on his table."

"Tauriel."

All eyes turned to Kili who managed not to blush even as he made his own suggestion. Quietly he pushed out his chin in a sign of his innate stubbornness.

Elladan shrugged lightly. "Do I have a choice?"

Fili and Thorin gave matching grins as they both shook their heads. Though the king did shove Kili with a bit too much force as he grumbled. "An elf? Just because she doesn't know how ugly you are doesn't mean you should take advantage."

Kili's dark eyes flashed in annoyance, but as he realized that the laughter was in good nature and not directed at him, he relaxed. When he further realized that this meant Tauriel would be asked to join them on the hunting trip, he even laughed.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis stifled a groan that had little to do with her sore rear end as the elf rode up beside her. His tall gelding was huge compared to her pony and they were at a disadvantage to converse."

"There are signs of bad weather coming our way." Hinnin said, pitching his voice to be heard without appearing like he was yelling at her.

Dis exaggerated her nod, to show that she'd heard and understood.

"You are doing well, lady?" The elf asked, sounding as if he were in a highly appointed sitting room of the wealthy rather than on a rough trail with a cold wind whipping through them.

Dis nodded once more, perversely thankful for the elf's presence on this journey. Dain was being polite, but reserved. Most of the dwarves wouldn't meet her eyes, though they weren't rude or mean. Simply, unsure.

Ahriline was being supportive, of course, and had been riding at Dis' side most of the time. But right now she'd fallen back a bit, as Gimli's pony had taken a dislike to the lad and had actually bitten him. So Ahriline had gone to intervene and apply an ointment to the broken skin.

Of all the other dwarves, only a few would even make eye contact or mumble a few words. Dain though had been making an effort at least. He was reserved around her, not bringing up any personal topics, but friendly enough. It helped ease the way with a few of his dwarrow from the Iron Hills. But no one seemed quite to know what to say to her. She was a mystery to them now. And it wasn't hard to guess why.

She'd married an elf. They couldn't wrap their minds around that salient fact. Worse? That she'd kept Kili from his father. That would have angered them right down to the very last dwarrow.

Except Elladan was an elf.

To the dwarves, it swayed their instinctual anger. They didn't know quite how to react. Even Gimli was avoiding her, much to his mother's disapproval. Then Gimli was a good lad, a strong lad. But he also idolized Thorin and anyone who knew anything about her brother, knew he detested elves.

Dis snuck a glance up at the elf on his tall horse, finding he was gazing down at her. He appeared puzzled. Dis dismissed him in her mind, looking forward instead and putting her gaze firmly on the mountains ahead.

Whatever was puzzling the elf, he was doomed to have to work it out for himself. She kicked her pony into picking up his sure-footed pace, not that the elf's mount couldn't do the same. It was a mute communication. She didn't want or need his presence.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You told them what?" The white-haired dwarf blinked, appalled. "Fishing?

"You like fishing, Balin." Thorin said smoothly.

"I do?"

"You do." The king reinforced, sliding his intense gaze over to his closest advisor. "You like fish."

"Eating, not catching." Balin grumbled, turning his eyes back onto the milling dwarves filling the main hall of Erebor in readiness for the evening's feast. "And with the supplies from Lake Town, we have plenty of preserved fish for the winter. I was thinking of naming this winter 'The Season of the Fishes'. What with the supplies, and being stuffed into barrels full of fishies as well."

"I thought it was 'The Season We Claimed Erebor'?" Thorin needled his old friend.

"It might turn into 'The Season You Push Your Advisor Too Far'." Balin hissed, rocking back and forth on his heels just a bit in agitation. "Fishing?"

Thorin grunted. "Better you than me." He smiled and nodded over at Dain's second-in-command as that worthy directed the placing of the low benches that had been crafted for tonight's occasion. "You'll be with Elladan, Fili and Glorfindel. Oh, and make sure Bombur goes as well."

"Yes, well. Bombur LIKES fishing. Unlike others I could name." Murmured Balin.

On the other side of the king, Dwalin smirked. Thorin caught the expression out of the corner of his eye and he smiled predatorily. "I'm sending you hunting."

"Goblins?" Dwalin asked, his muscular arms crossed as he stood next to his king.

All three of them watched as Bofur and Bifur started putting out the explosive crackers on the tables, much to the delight of the dwarves setting up the hall. Jovially the two had to beat off several reaching hands and threaten each and every dwarrow with dire consequences should they explode the gift-bearing crackers before the feast began.

Thorin grunted as Bifur came close to spiking one overeager dwarrow with a fork. "Beasties."

Dwalin nodded, then frowned. "Beasties?"

"Food. Hunting. You. 'The Season Where Dwalin Goes Hunting.'" Thorin said dryly.

The warrior wasn't slow to catch on. He closed his eyes and nodded. "If Elladan and Fili are fishing. Then it will be Elrohir and Kili going hunting?"

Thorin nodded. "Tauriel as well."

"Excellent." Dwalin said the word as if it were soaked in vinegar.

Balin scratched his beard, pitching his voice to barely a whisper. "Are we to keep the lads from the elves then?"

"No." Thorin hesitated, then sighed. "Simply a precaution following the ambush on my heirs."

Balin stirred, and despite his earlier teasing, now he truly did seem uncomfortable. "That is something that will need to be discussed."

Thorin caught the hesitancy in his friend's voice. He turned and caught Balin's gaze. Interestingly, it was the older dwarf who dropped his eyes first. "The subject?"

"Heirs." Balin cleared his throat noisily for a moment, then sighed, still refusing to meet his king's eyes. "Is it still plural?"

Shocked, Thorin stared at his long-time friend and advisor. Then he whipped his head around to look at Dwalin. That fine warrior was suddenly acting the coward and looking away as well. He grunted harshly. He wanted to tell them of course Kili was still his second heir. But his tongue seemed suddenly tied into fishermen's knots. Finally he sighed heavily. "There is talk?"

"Aye." Dwalin didn't sound happy about it either, which helped somewhat.

"A discussion for another night." Thorin sounded aggrieved. "Not tonight."

"Not tonight." Balin agreed, slipping his hands behind his back.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fergard Stormrune felt sick in the pit of his stomach, even as his sword dispatched the goblin's head from his less than fortunate and ill-formed neck.

They were losing.

Blood dripped from a shallow but freely bleeding wound high on his forehead, trying to obscure his vision. He swiped at the thick fluid he'd rather keep inside his body with his sleeve. But the fabric was already sodden and couldn't absorb much more.

Leaving large smears over his craggy features, the move cleared his vision enough to see that there were more goblins swarming over the ridge right at them.

Beside him Brorgic Grimbasher was taking advantage of the brief lull to wrap a tight bandage over his rock-hard thigh. The thing was so tight it would cut off circulation.

Fergard's gaze met Brorgic's. He grunted. The Grimbasher knew the bandage was too tight and would cost him the leg if not tended better. But loosening it meant bleeding to death that much faster. And in the meantime, his great axe was still needed.

No word had to be shared between them. The ambush had not come from the direction that they'd anticipated. But it had come.

Both dwarrows glanced behind them, seeing the bloodied and wearied miners and crafters wielding their weapons and readying for the oncoming onslaught.

Fergard's eyes lit up with racial pride. "Naikhzidi!"

Grimbasher looked at him and then grinned ruthlessly in acknowledgment. "Indeed! We are all dwarves together! We shall enter the Halls as One!" He turned and raised his closed fist in a symbol of solidarity. "Naikhzidi!"

There was an immediate answering roar from their dwarrow, at least the ones still breathing with them.

Fergard thought of his lovely daughter, and the Grimbasher heiress and their other friend from the Heavyaxe family. "The lasses?"

"If our lines fail." Grimbasher said bravely. "Their way will be eased into the Halls."

It was an easy way to say that one of the last acts of the dwarrows protecting the non-fighters would be to make sure they did not end up spitted by goblin weapons. But dwarven ones.

"Our line will not fail." Brorgic avowed, tightening his grip on his axe.

Fergard swallowed, but grimly turned to face the next wave of goblins riding down upon them. He was not but a mining engineer, not a warrior. But to his eyes, their 'line' was like a creaking beam holding up too much weight in an unstable shaft. He was not expecting to see another ….

Both dwarrow looked up in shock as they heard the sounding of a horn, and that was quickly followed by more horns.

Goblins? Orcs? Or ….

"Those be Blacklock banners!" Brorgic crowed with a wild cheer.

Fergard squinted, his heart speeding up in utmost relief. "Who's that with them? That one is on no pony! Nor is he of a proper dwarven height!"

Brorgic Grimbasher wiped his sweaty and bloody hands on his tunic and grasped his war axe once more. "Right now, I don't care if it'n be an elf if they help against these accursed goblins!"

Fergard thought of his daughter, the only light left in his heart. Silently he agreed. But would the newcomers be able to stem the tide of goblins nearly upon them? Would they render aid at all?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"What's going on with Nori?" Kili slipped up behind his brother, startling the blond.

Fili sighed heavily, then glanced down at his brother's stocking feet still in their mismatched, and now a bit dusty, socks. "Find out you have elf blood and you suddenly sneak better?"

Kili grinned, though he had to swallow hard when he heard his brother mention that he was part elf so cavalierly. "Nori?" He redirected the conversation away from turbulent emotional waters.

Fili frowned but nodded over to where the dwarrow with the tri-braided beard was arguing loudly with their Uncle Thorin. "He's protesting the slow payment of what is owed him."

The younger dwarrow's eyes narrowed and his lips tightened.

"Uncle is telling him that repairs to Erebor come first before distribution of payments. Nori is not impressed." Fili continued.

Kili thought about it, then shook his head.

"I agree, it's not …." Fili stopped and fell silent, looking around carefully. The two brothers were in an alcove, away from the group. Mostly because neither was supposed to be down there. His voice slipped into a whisper. "They're up to something."

Kili opened his mouth to ask if Thorin had confided in Fili, then his tongue stilled. He closed his mouth again. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know if their uncle was keeping the crown prince in on information, but not him. Weakly he shrugged. "You're supposed to be resting."

"So are you." Fili admonished self-righteously, giving his younger sibling an inquisitive look. "What's wrong?"

Kili shrugged as if it was nothing. "Thorin tell you what they're up to?"

Fili snorted derisively and shook his head, blond braids swinging for emphasis. "Hardly."

"The Witch give you a gift?" Kili asked after a while, pushing aside his misgivings for the moment.

The blond dwarf frowned, sensing that there was something beneath Kili's mood, but unsure what. "Don't call her that." He said, though not with a lot of conviction.

"We've always called her that." The dark-haired prince said, though his voice implied an apology even if the words didn't.

"That's before we knew she's your great-grandmam." Fili rejoined seriously.

Then he thought about his words and starting grinning. "Remember when you hid under the bed after Dwalin told you the story of how the Witch of Lorien would turn naughty dwarrows into birds?"

Kili grumped, but couldn't stop his reluctant shimmer of a smile. He pretended to wipe his mouth with his sleeve as he shook his head. "Never happened." He rebuffed. "And if I was under that bed, I wasn't there alone."

"I was protecting you." Fili swore solemnly, even though his blue eyes were shining with mirth.

Kili's grin answered that of his brother. "So, did the grand lady who is NOT a witch, maybe …did she gift you something before they all moved the party down here without us?"

Fili held out his left hand, turning it palm up before unclenching his fingers. A rough stone was sitting there, about the size of a dwarrow's smallest fingernail. It was gray and ordinary, no hint of ore or anything precious. It wasn't useful in any way.

"Ah." Kili held up another such stone between his thumb and forefinger. "Is yours supposed to glow if there are bad things about?"

The blond snorted, amused by his baby brother. "Bad things? I think the words she used were 'dangers to your self'."

"Bad things. Same difference." Kili shrugged, tossing his stone in the air and catching it neatly. "Think I'm going to have it set as a ring."

"Not a bad idea." Fili agreed. "Do you think it will glow as blue as Bilbo's sword?"

Startled, the dark-haired prince studied his rock with new interest. "That would be interesting."

Fili grinned, and then suddenly lost his grin. His blue eyes turned serious as he rounded on his younger sibling with a scowl.

"What?" Kili asked, his eyes widening in alarm and confusion. "What?"

"Promise." The blond dwarf sounded terribly serious. "Promise me that you will NOT seek out an orc or a goblin just to see if your damned stone turns a glowy blue!"

Shocked, Kili shook his head even as he promised. "I'm not quite that reckless." When his brother looked less than convinced, the younger sibling glared right back at him. "I'm not!"

"Good to hear."

Badly startled, both young dwarrow tried to hide that fact and act as if they'd not been caught completely by surprise. Fili nodded his head while Kili turned on his winningest smile.

Nori looked less than impressed.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel wasn't that used to being part of the celebrations, rather than a guard for them. Oh, of course she'd been a participant in many of her people's festivals over the centuries. But it wasn't the same.

After her parents had been killed in orcish raids nearly half a millennia ago, she'd been taken in by Thranduil himself.

King Thranduil. High Elf and ruler over …well, everything that mattered. So it had seemed to her as a young elfling barely past the century mark. The elvish king had been all that she would have aspired to be. Smart, contained, strong, wise, respected, and a leader.

It wasn't until much, much later that the image she'd had of him had begun to tarnish around the edges. When Thranduil had become smart but blinded, contained and yet cold, strong and unable to bend. Respected leader, yes. But someone who chose not to lead, but to turn a blind eye to the dangers around them as long as it did not encroach too far into the Mirkwood.

Such she had never said. Nor ever would. Tauriel knew that she owed King Thranduil for her very life. Her training. Her position. For her sovereign she'd have given her loyalty, her life and even her happiness. Or so she'd always thought.

So how did she end up here? Tauriel mused. No longer in the Mirkwood and no longer beholden to its king. Drinking ale with dwarves underneath a mountain, smiling at them and wishing she dared to actually laugh.

A presence moved up beside her and she stiffened. Shorter than she. Light reflecting off the smooth head. Dwalin. He didn't immediately speak and she didn't offer to break the silence. But when he didn't move away, she slid a look at him with a stiff nod.

"Things are about to explode." The tattooed warrior said unexpectedly, his voice gruff.

Alarmed, Tauriel's green eyes moved across the crowded hall, undimmed by the ale she'd consumed.

Dwalin grunted and gave his head a barely discernable shake. "Not tempers. Crackers."

Tauriel paused. Wondering if she'd misheard the word. "Crackers?" Was the meaning of the word different in Common? "Thin, crispy breads that crumble?"

"Exploding gifts." Dwalin corrected. "Elves have this?"

The red-head shook her head, the shimmer of her hair catching in the light within the hall. "I am not exploding my pin."

Taken aback, Dwalin actually offered a small grin that quickly disappeared. "Just don't be startled." He paused, considering his words. "And don't pull a weapon."

Suddenly a loud bang rent the air, accompanied by roars of approving laughter. Dwarves all over the crowded feast area took this as a cue and more bangs joined the first. Colored sparks and small showers of multihued papers corkscrewed through the air.

Tauriel watched with wide green eyes as all the elves present appeared completely nonplussed and unsure. Except for the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien. The she-elf stared at the duo and then came to the conclusion that they'd also been startled but were better at hiding that fact.

Watching the goings-on, she realized that the noise was coming from brightly wrapped tubes that two dwarrows would share with each other, each pulling on one end. But no one seemed harmed or upset. In fact everyone seemed to be laughing uproariously and greatly enjoying the pastime.

Ori ran up to her with a red and gold tube, holding it out to her with a shy but excited smile. "Have a pull!"

Tauriel wasn't sure of what to make of this obviously dwarven tradition of some kind. Yet she and Ori had become friendly and she hated to disappoint. Hesitantly, she tugged on one end of the tube with her long fingers, but the slick paper slid right through her grasp. Frowning, she took a better hold. Her eyes met those of young Ori and they both pulled.

A loud bang exploded between them, accompanied by a slightly acrid scent and a spray of colored bits and streamers as well as a wrapped ball.

Ori hooted with delight and scooped up the prize, bending as he offered it to her.

Tauriel eyed him with caution.

"Candy." The young scribe told her. "Bofur and Bifur made them as gifts for everyone, but not every cracker has a prize."

"Not one for sweets." Tauriel admitted, but then reconsidered at the instant dimming of excitement in Ori's gaze. "But I'll give it a try."

Dwalin and Ori both watched as the red-head unwrapped the hard piece of candy and popped it into her mouth. Three seconds later she grinned. "I taste mint!"

Ori grinned and nodded happily. Then he was slapped on the back by another dwarrow that Tauriel vaguely recognized as being one of Dain's warriors. That's when she realized that she'd been watched, and possibly judged. Looking around she noted several nods in her direction, though no one spoke outright to her. It was not an uncomfortable silence at least.

Dwalin grunted from beside her.

"Did I pass muster?" She asked around the candy still melting on her tongue pleasantly.

The tattooed warrior eyed her in surprise. "Lass, ye saved our Kili more than once. Even saved Thorin's hide during the battle. Accepted him as a dwarf long before knowing his bloodline. You don't even call him by that elvish name of his, but call him Kili cuz that's who he is. You really have no need to prove anything to these dwarves."

Tauriel nodded absently, unconsciously matching his stoic expression as they both looked out over the festivities. "Did I pass your muster?" She asked more pointedly.

Dwalin slid his eyes toward her, then grumbled. "Yer getting there." Was all he'd admit to, however.

"You warned me and not the other elves." Tauriel pointed out. "About the crackers."

The bald warrior glowered at the crowd in general, even as he nodded. "Kili is …attached to ….lad likes you well enough." He finally got the words out. "Can't have you looking unprepared in front of the other dwarrow."

Tauriel digested that information for a moment, drawing some unwelcome conclusions. "There are difficulties with Kili befriending me?" Her question was highly loaded with innuendo.

Dwalin shook his head at her. "Not here."

"Is there danger to him?" Was her immediate and focused response.

Startled at her conclusion, Dwalin stared at her more than a little surprised. "And that's the first place your mind goes? To his welfare? Lass … you're getting closer to passing muster." He said and then walked away before she could formulate a response.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fergard watched as the dwarven healer tended to the Grimbasher's thigh wound. His stomach turned over at the ugly and very deep slash, but he didn't dishonor his friend by turning away.

"He will be fine."

At the words, the mining engineer had to crane his head to look up into the face of the austere older male. At first he'd thought human, but there was an age on this newcomer that was older than any Man that Fergard had ever met. A sense of power and surety.

"Yer a wizard?" He asked without fanfare or even general politeness.

The older male drew back as if the words were a personal slight. "I am the wizard, head of our order."

Fergard nodded, not being well versed in the goings on of wizards and their ilk. "We owe you our lives. Arriving with the Blacklock dwarrow like you did."

"Yes. Yes you do." Saruman told him, his stance haughty as he kept his pristine white robes away from the battle grime the dwarves all seemed to wallow in.

The wizard watched, hiding his glee behind an aura of being concerned. Arriving in Erebor alone wouldn't be so bad. Arriving with the emissary of one of the Seven Families was even better.

Best though? Arriving with the Blacklock dwarrow clan after having saved a dwarven group from slaughter by goblins and orcs.

Erebor would welcome him with open arms. And that is exactly what Saruman needed. A blessedly welcome arrival without even a hint of suspicion.

It had been remarkably easy to prepare for an ambush of one of the first group of dwarves heading toward Erebor. And hardly the work of a true master such as himself to orchestrate a rescue from that very same ambush.

It made him look the hero of the hour.

Saruman smiled.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili rolled over, eyes gritty and aching. The sudden turn caused his chest to compress, which pushed at the fluids still crowding his air passages. Coughing exploded from him, making him sit up in order to catch his damned breath.

"Curse it." The dark-haired dwarrow pushed his lank hair away from his face. He didn't need a timepiece to know it was not even close to dawn. Kili and the rest of the Company members had an excellent sense of time and an inner clock honed by having to sit up to keep watch night after night.

His eyes hurt. His throat felt awful as his dinner didn't sit well and came up to revisit him. It was by supreme will alone that the young prince was able not to lose the contents of his stomach altogether.

He'd been dreaming. Nightmare.

Wouldn't it be horrid if he was having dreams of future events? That thought was enough to make him cough harder. Kili waited out the lung spasms, painful though they were. He looked over at the desk with the sleeping draught the new Mirkwood healer had left for him.

He'd even waved his new danger-warning rock that Galadriel had given him over the bottle. But it hadn't glowed. Still, he'd not swallowed the concoction. What if the medicine trapped him into sleep right when he was having another nightmare? Having the bad dream in the first place wasn't good, but being unable to wake from it? Infinitely worse. So no sleeping draught.

Kili flopped back down onto his bed, staring helplessly up at the ceiling. His mind would not seem to settle down.

So many questions. So many worries. So little sleep.

Kili groaned, throwing one arm over his eyes as he sighed unhappily. He needed sleep. He just didn't want to dream, not if it was like the nightmare he'd just woken from. And it was a good damned thing that his dreams weren't portents of the future.

_"The Light of the Eldar is wakening within you now."_

The clear memory of Galadriel's voice telling him that echoed through his mind. In quick order he began to recall all the times she'd spoken directly into his mind.

Panic made him sit straight up and suddenly making him feel chilled to the bone.

Had it simply been a nightmare? Had it really?

Kili blinked, throwing off his blanket and shivering as he ran from his room. Once in the hallway, he paused, undecided.

Fili? Thorin? They wouldn't know. Balin was probably the smartest dwarrow around and even he wouldn't know.

Galadriel. She was the one to say it in the first place. Three steps down the hallway, Kili slowed. She was married. To Lord Celeborn. Would they be sleeping in the same room? The same bed? Not something he wanted to consider.

Now Kili's stomach really rebelled as he shuddered. He didn't need to think about it but immediately changed directions. He could have knocked on their door and asked to speak just to her. But that didn't seem right.

Elrohir. Best bet. He definitely needed to speak to his uncle Elrohir.

Without much thought of the time or anything else. Kili stopped in front of the door he'd chosen and knocked sharply.

It took a moment, but a worried and bleary eyed Elladan opened his door.

Kili walked right past his father into the guest room and started pacing. He wasn't even really sure why he'd headed here and not to Elrohir's room like he'd planned. It had just happened.

"Kuilaith?" Elladan watched his agitated child in some alarm. "Has something happened?"

Kili shook his head as he stopped pacing. Guiltily he glanced at his father. "I thought High Elves don't sleep."

Elladan's eyebrows rose, but he seemed to realize that the trouble was something his son was worrying over and not an attack. He closed his door, leaning against it as he watched the dark-haired prince. "We can rest with our eyes open when in need, requiring very little sleep. But we can and do sleep just as the dwarves do." That was a guess really, he'd never considered the sleeping habits of dwarrows.

"I woke you." Kili grimaced, running a hand over his face in agitation. "I should go."

Elladan was already leaning on the door, so that was a good thing. He shook his head at his son. "What is bothering you?"

Kili groaned and sat down on the barely rumpled bed. "It'll sound stupid."

Elladan shook his head and waited.

"I had a nightmare about needing to be somewhere, but getting trapped and lost in a …." Kili looked down at his fingers.

"Mountain?" Elladan supplied.

"A tree." Kili groaned and flopped back on the bed. "It was a little sapling on the outside, but I was inside the tree and it was huge. I was lost and knew the way, but couldn't find it. Everywhere I would turn the wrong way. An there were these weird round windows like hobbit hole doors only they were red like blood and I couldn't find my way out."

Trees. Easy to see the connection to the elves. A feeling of being trapped. Confusion over being less than 100% dwarven. Elladan sighed. "A nightmare."

Kili's head popped up. "I …look the light thingy you sang to and woke it up …it's not going to make me have true dreams is it?"

Beyond surprised now, the elf lord actually smiled. "No. Very few have the far sight."

"It's said the Witch does."

"Witch?" Elladan protested.

Kili frowned and closed his eyes. "Sorry. There are all sorts of stories among dwarflings about elves. Especially the Lady of Lorien."

"Stories that inspire nightmares?" Elladan guessed, amused and appalled at the same time.

"Some stories say she can see the future. That's not so, is it?" The young partially-elven dwarrow asked in a hopeful tone of voice.

It was Elladan's turn to grimace, drawing alarm from Kili. Quickly the father moved to reassure the son. "Neither Elrohir nor myself have this gift. Arwen does not either. Personally I think you've had an overwhelming time with huge shocks and are sick with pneumonia. No wonder your dreams are strange right now. It doesn't mean you spy into the future."

Relieved, Kili dropped his head back onto the mattress. "Your brother said I need to learn to listen to the trees. Do they talk? Actual words and all?"

"Depends on the tree." Elladan answered with a chuckle. "Ents are rumored to talk real words, but they haven't been spotted for a very long time."

"Have you met one?" Kili asked quietly.

Elladan shook his head, but then began to tell a story of a friend of his father's who'd once had met a Tree Shepherd. But that had been several millennia ago. When he finished, he waited for a response, but only heard the sound of even breathing.

Kuilaith had fallen asleep.

Elladan straightened away from the door and padded over to his slumbering offspring. In his rest Kuilaith looked younger than his seven decades should allow. Dark lashes fanned out on the smooth upper cheeks. "Kuilaith? Kili?"

No response.

Elladan laughed to himself and pulled the youngster up in the bed, settling him more comfortably. He was about to pull the cover over the sleeping lad when he saw the mismatched and still dusty socks.

"Ah son." Elladan muttered and pulled them off with a wrinkled nose. Kuilaith's toes wriggled but the dwarrow didn't waken. The elf lord pulled out a pair of his own socks and tried to put them on the young male.

It was a tight fit.

The feet of elves seemed to be much narrower. In the end Elladan had to lift each foot and push and pull to get the socks onto Kuilaith. Which in turn, woke him.

Bleary and still partially asleep, Kili blinked and protested with a grunt.

"Go back to sleep." Elladan said gently as he finished tugging on the socks. "Rest son."

"Okay." Kili said, already sliding back into full slumber. The elf shook his head in wonder.

Elladan took a spare blanket and pillow, pulling up a thickly cushioned chair. It wasn't built for elves. The proportions were all wrong.

The elf lord pulled the cushions off the chair and made a pallet on the floor, laying down. It shouldn't have been comfortable, and in truth, it wasn't really.

But Elladan was nothing but happy.

His son had had a problem. And had sought him out. No, it wasn't anything major.

But it was a start.

To the sound of Kili's partially labored breathing due to the fluid in his lungs, Elladan drifted off to sleep.


	24. In which Tauriel takes offense

Elladan slept very lightly, keeping an ear on the sound of Kuilaith's breathing. Before dawn the lad's lungs began wheeze more harshly with each exhalation of breath. Not enough to call Nuluin to attend, nor to wake the sleeping youth.

Still, the elf lord rose and thought over his possible reactions for a second before rolling up an extra blanket and sliding it behind Kuilaith's pillow. Lifting his head enough to bring an ease to the sound of his breathing. The dark-haired young male snuffled and moved his head around a bit, but settled quickly back into slumber.

There was little light in the room, mostly from the fire in the hearth that was pretty low at the moment. A chill of oncoming winter had long ago invaded the mountainous area as such seasons came early at this elevation. Elladan had not noticed any of the dwarves complaining of the temperature, and he himself was comfortable enough. But Kuilaith was still fighting illness.

Once the elf warrior had fed the hearth fire and built it back up to a merrily dancing flame to heat the room, he returned to the bedside.

Kuilaith.

Living embodiment of that which brings joy. The name suited this child who'd been the prize of a very odd and ill-conceived marriage. How could someone like this have come from one of the worst times in his life?

Gray eyes traced the lines that made up his son. Now that Kuilaith slept, he was able to fully stare in a way that would be entirely rude if the lad were awake.

Dark brunet hair. Thick but fine, and never wanting to stay within the binds of braid nor clasp. Features that were too delicate for dwarf and too unrefined for elf. A mixture. But not unpleasing. Elladan had spent enough time with Men that he knew his son would be considered most handsome among them. And looking upon things objectively, he could not disagree. Though Kuilaith would never be thought beautiful among the races of his blood, he was far from ugly. And the force and nature of his personality drew people to him like a lodestone.

Elves knew the truest beauty came only from within. In this regard, his son lacked nothing.

Although Kuilaith had not been trying to charm his father, or any of the elves for that matter, he could not hide who he was at his core. And how others saw and reacted to him.

How could the mixing of dwarvish and elvish blood have produced such a prize?

For the first time ever, Elladan recalled the moments of his brief marriage. Not through the lens of grief, nor the lens of anger such as after he'd learned of his son's existence. Objectively.

Dis. A handsome and strong dwarrowdam. A softer version of Thorin Oakenshield in looks, but not in personality. Not ill-favored. For a dwarf.

Elladan felt no physical pull toward her. Never had. And from the look in her eyes upon their meeting, neither had she felt drawn to him. There had been no spark of attraction, either one-sided or shared.

Truthfully, the elf lord frowned, he wasn't clear on a lot of that time period in his life. He'd ascribed the feelings to his deep depression and grief from Bainnid's loss. But that mental fog? Had it been more than grieving?

Kuilaith's fingers twitched upon his blanket, drawing the father's eyes. The lad's hands looked dwarfish. Shorter, stubbier fingers than any elf. Though not as thick as those of the other dwarves. Still, Elladan had seen him carve the most intricate runes into wood for the Durin's Day gifts.

Attention back on his son, Elladan pushed aside his musings on his marriage other than to marvel at what it had produced.

When he'd first learned that he might have a child out there, Elladan had been shocked, angry, and hopeful. He'd long ago accepted that there would be no life beyond himself. Not with Bainnid lost to him and his marriage to Dis a failure. But in that instant, in the dawning moment of realization, he had felt something within him shatter. Something hard, something brittle, and something utterly dark.

In that moment he simply knew. He wanted this. Long denied, a part of him roared out from the depths of his buried dreams and screamed silently within him. A child. His child. Need jangled his nerves and surged him forward, almost into a kind of madness. A race to recover that which was stolen.

Elladan blinked as he watched the rise and fall of Kuilaith's chest.

He'd been so wrong.

The elf smiled sadly. His behavior when they'd arrived in Erebor was unforgivable. Kuilaith wasn't Kuilaith, not then. He was Kili. He had a life and a family. And he, Elladan, had been prepared to rip his child away from all that he knew and cared about.

Last eve, Kuilaith had asked forgiveness for gifting him something impersonal in order to keep the elf at arm's length.

Elladan knew he had so much more to be forgiven for than his son did. So much to make up for. Not being there was first, well as much as he could put that blame on Dis, he should have gone after her.

No. What he needed forgiving for was the selfish desire to take Kili and force him to be Kuilaith. To leave behind all that was dwarfish. To take him away by force. What had the lad's nightmare been? Trapped within a tree and trying to get out. Elladan sorrowed at the thought of how much worse it would have been if they'd succeeded in taking Kuilaith away that first day.

Fili had stopped that.

Fili. Elladan sighed. Another festering wound to his pride. How could he have let Dis walk away with Fili so long ago?

Yes. The blond was entirely dwarven. But. Oh but what a fine young prince the lad had turned into. And none of it due to Elladan. Another loss, and a dear one as it turned out.

"Are you going to keep staring at me?"

Startled, gray eyes refocused on dark ones. Kuilaith had awoken. The elf smiled sadly. "I wallow in my guilt. Nothing more. It is early, go back to sleep."

Kuilaith yawned heavily, stretching as he did so. Blinking, the young prince nodded. "Go wallow in your own room."

Amused, the elf gave a small smile. "This is my room."

Kuilaith nodded, his eyes closing as he drifted back off to sleep. Elladan waited and was satisfied when several moments later, his son frowned. Still, he didn't waken enough to further comment. The frown eased away as a wave would wash away a drawing in the sand.

Elladan turned to watch the fire. He watched so long that the log he'd placed earlier cracked in two and become subsumed by the flames until there was little left. Dawn had arrived, he didn't need to see it to know that. He could feel it. Finally he turned back to where his thoughts had been the entire time.

Kuilaith.

A tap on the door had him looking up. Elrohir entered as was his wont first thing in the morning. The twin stopped two steps into the room, seeing his brother awake and yet the bed not empty.

Elrohir knew immediately who was lying in his brother's bed despite the shadows. He turned and looked at his twin, raising one elegantly arched brow in question.

Elladan shrugged, but not in a way that showed he was unsure, but in such a manner to indicate he wasn't willing to explain. For some reason the elf did not want to share Kuilaith's nightmare, even with his own twin.

Surprised, yet strangely pleased, Elrohir nodded and did not ask further. Accepting. "You are stronger." Was all he said.

Elladan considered the words, and the touch of his brother's mind. His twin was thinking proud and comforting thoughts at him, more a press of emotion than actual words. "I have been a burden."

"Never." Avowed Elrohir quickly.

Elladan shook his head. Ever since Bainnid had been torn from this world, he had been lost. His anchor had been his twin brother. But at what cost to Elrohir? "I'm sorry."

"You have done nothing to which you owe an apology to me." Protested Elrohir.

"Not yet." Elladan gave his twin a quick look. "I'm apologizing for what I will do."

His brother straightened, attention caught. Now both eyebrows rose high over his gray eyes. Eyes nearly identical to that of his brother.

Elladan slid his glance over toward the sleeping prince in his bed. "I will be staying. It may be selfish. But I find I am a selfish person."

Elrohir rejected those words. "We let mother sail West because she needed it. We let Arwen go to Lothlorien because she needed it. We train in the North because it has been needed." He paused to give his words weight. "Perhaps it is time for you to stay, because you need it."

"What do you need, brother mine?"

Elrohir smiled, relaxing a bit as he crossed his arms. "I have what I need." He said without explanation, not even a touch of his mind to clarify.

It forced Elladan to ask again. "What do you need?"

Elrohir smiled mysteriously and shrugged. His brother glanced at him, annoyed. But that was a joy to Elrohir. What did he need? Elladan living again. Separate from himself, having his own life. This mixed blood son had done what nothing else in the world could have. He'd brought healing. "Do you love?"

Gray eyes blinked, and then slid over to where Kuilaith still slept peacefully. "I do." The elven father said, then his voice firmed. "I do."

Elrohir nodded. At first it had been only the idea of a son. But this, this was the reality. "He won't be easy to love." He said caustically.

Elladan immediately frowned. "Yes, he will be." Then he chuckled lightly. "Understanding him? That will be the part that won't be as easy."

"I will stay through the winter at least." Elrohir commented, as if his words were casual. They weren't. "Perhaps longer, depending on Mordor."

Elladan stilled. His brother was willing to leave him here. He felt choked up all of a sudden. Relieved beyond measure. Now. Now if Elrohir stayed it was because it was what he himself wanted. Not because Elladan needed him.

"That would be good." Elladan said brightly, feeling freer than he'd had in nearly eighty years.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

_"I hate to be saying such, Mahal knows."_

That didn't sound like truth, Tauriel mused. But then, eavesdropping was not very honorable of her. On the other hand, she was simply eating breakfast in the common hall. It appeared she had three choices. Eat. Leave. Tell them to shut up.

_"I mean, Dain is of Durin's Folk too."_

_"Not direct line."_ Someone else spoke up.

_"Prince Fili is full dwarf. And a fine dwarrow. Strong."_

Tauriel sweetened the dwarvish black tea they seemed so fond of here, using the honey delivered by Dale in trade. Idly she concentrated on the mundane. Trying to tune out the idle talk. If they'd spoken in Khuzdul she'd have not understood. But it seemed the dwarrow were leery of speaking their private and secret language anywhere near the elves. Which was fine. Except when ….

_"The crown prince is entirely too fond of his brother. He will not want to remove the mixed blood from the line of succession."_

Tauriel's hand froze. The next moment, she glanced up, startled. Glorfindel slid onto the bench across the table from her. She relaxed fractionally. At least she wasn't alone in a room full of gossiping dwarrow anymore. Then again. He was a High Elf, and a hero of the highest order.

"Have you tried the juice?" The golden haired warrior asked casually.

The red-head smiled slightly. "It has bubbles, I've heard."

"Well yes, but no, that's not my meaning." Glorfindel shook his head, looking terribly serious. "I have it on good authority that dwarven black tea will put 'hair on your chest'. And I highly doubt you'd like that. Or that anyone else would either. Even a dwarrow."

The pretty Silven elf nearly choked, though she wasn't currently chewing anything. Had the High Elf made an innuendo? A joke? What? Was he alluding to Kili?

"Though it would be an interesting place to put courting beads." Glorfindel continued dryly, with no indication that he was having fun at her expense.

Still, it startled an actual laugh from her, which she quickly covered with her napkin.

"Not used to being teased?" The elf warrior asked with a raised brow.

Tauriel shook her head. "Captain of the Guard. Too easy to assign any who would dare to extra onerous duties." Though she didn't add that it wasn't like the High Elves living in the Mirkwood to tease in such a manner.

"Ah." Glorfindel nodded sagely. "Threats. Good deterrent."

They each fell silent as they started to make inroads on breakfast.

_"I heard that she was helpful in translating elvish when that group from Mirkwood arrived._

"Don't." Glorfindel whispered the word to her when she started to turn. "Ignore them."

_"She's a whore."_

"Or I could gut them." The High Elf bit out the words, his eyes starting to flash with temper.

Tauriel wasn't sure how she dared, for Thranduil would have broken her fingers for such a thing, but she put her hand on Glorfindel's arm to stop him from rising.

_"No. Seriously. She was helpful. Translated everything down to the smallest weight and correct coin. Nice too."_

_"She didn't translate everything. I speak Sindarin."_

Glorfindel cocked his head to the side, giving her a hard look. It was hard enough to gain the trust of the dwarrow out here without misleading them a purpose.

_"Those elves from Mirkwood? Were insulting her. Cold. Said she was muddying her blood out here with dwarves. Said some nasty things, all meant to draw insult. She didn't translate any of that, just kept it professional."_

"Oh." The golden-haired elf warrior closed his eyes in sudden sympathy and chagrin. "I'm sorry."

"You did nothing." Was the Silvan response to the more socially elite.

Glorfindel's eyes popped back open and fairly pinned her with a disappointed look. "You are quick to forgive. That is not typically a Silvan way."

Uneasy, Tauriel let her gaze drop to her plate. Arguing with High Elves was never worth the trouble.

"In fact. You act more gracious than most elves I've known." The golden haired elf continued. "A product of Thranduil's court?"

"King Thranduil." She corrected without thought, a habit of over six centuries.

"Ah." Glorifindel leaned back, as if he'd gleaned something of the utmost importance. "Still demanding use of that title is he?"

Tauriel did look up at that, a bit defensive over her former ruler. He had his faults, but he had taken her in and treated her well enough. He'd been under no obligation to take a personal interest in her back then. "You were the Head of a House."

"Chief of a House. House of the Golden Flower." Glorfindel trailed a single finger around the rim of his cup as he gave an exaggerated wince. "Try not to hold it against me. Besides. I died." He gave her a pitiful look. "Is that not punishment enough?"

"Punishment?" Tauriel drew back her head, her green eyes wide upon the High Elf. He was still teasing her. She was not used to such, not in Thranduil's court.

Glorfindel waited, his smile growing as he made a hand gesture for her to continue.

The red-headed elf sighed and gave him what he appeared to want. A cue. "Punishment for what?"

"Being arrogant!" The golden-haired and quite ancient warrior nearly crowed. "I'm far more humble since my return."

Tauriel bit her lip and slid her eyes away for a moment, trying not to laugh again. "You are still arrogant."

"Not as much." Glofindel smiled gently at her. "Dying has a way of humbling a warrior. Trust me."

_"She must have been promised an entire room full of treasure to move here and pretend an interest in the mixed blood."_

Those words pierced through their banter, causing Tauriel to hiss and place her hand on her dagger. She rose and moved swiftly through the hall and stepped up easily onto first a bench, and then a table. She knocked over not a single dish as she wove her way down through the assorted cups and breakfast dishes. Her hem never even touched a single bowl of porridge or cup of tea.

Gagnar choked as she came to rest in front of him, kneeling down, the point of her dagger dangerously close to his left eye.

"Care to repeat those words, dwarf?"

Silence. No one in the hall moved. Some didn't even try to breathe.

"How do you know it was I who said anything?" Bluffed the long-nosed dwarf before her.

"I can tell from a mile away the exact tree from which a bird sings his song. Do not doubt that I know it was your filthy mouth doing the talking." Tauriel hissed, looking like the predator she was.

Gagnar sputtered, but then smiled slyly. "You have no proof."

"Swear." Tauriel smiled back at him, flashing her teeth dangerously. "Swear by Durin's Axe and Blood that you have said nothing about me in the last five minutes and I will apologize and walk away."

Durin's Axe and Blood. A most serious oath to the dwarrow. Gagnar was tempted to lie. But his companions would know it to be a lie, and then know him to be an oathbreaker. No. "So. You deny that you've been promised something wonderful in order to move to Erebor?"

"No." Tauriel paused, choosing her next words with great care. "I was promised a chance to serve the Lady Galadriel and travel to Lothlorien. For this my king released me and I have sworn to follow the Lady of Light. That is something wonderful and the only treasure I need."

A general stirring among the dwarves followed her words. A hum of questions and comments.

Gagnar looked around using only his eyes as he dared not move his head. He could feel the support sliding away from him. "You lie. And if you swear by Durin's Axe and Blood, even then I will never believe you."

"Of what do you accuse me?" Tauriel asked, her hand steady as it hovered over Gagnar's face. Her dagger never wavered, and if her hand was growing fatigued from remaining still so long, it did not show.

A ginger bearded younger dwarrow coughed, shuffling his feet. "Are you promised to the young prince?"

"No." Tauriel said smoothly.

"Did you know he was a prince?" Another voice, this time from behind her.

"When I met Kili, I was part of the group that took he and the others prisoner. They gave us no names nor titles. Thorin was known to King Thranduil, but not his nephews." The red-head answered truthfully. "But it was guessed that they were related, for they have a look about them."

"Durin's Folk." Several of the gathered dwarrow nodded. In fact, they were starting to sound a bit more at ease.

On the other hand, Gagnar was starting to sweat. "Get this whore away from me!"

Tauriel's blade slid closer to her target, her green eyes sharp and cold. Hisses came from all around her. Then the drawing of a blade. Glorfindel she guessed, but did not want to elevate this incident. She was about to tell the golden warrior to step down when another blade was drawn.

The red-haired Silvan elf stood, put her booted foot heavily on Gagnar's shoulder to pin him back and turned. Her green eyes widened.

Glorfindel was leaning against the table looking utterly bored. And amused.

The two drawn swords belonged to Balin and Dori, with both those august dwarrow looking decidedly angry. "Call her such again and you won't need to clean another hall in Erebor. But will be working to clean the Halls of the Waiting. Without your hands."

Tauriel eyed the two who had always been utterly kind and polite to her. Well, at least ever since she'd arrived in Erebor following the Battle.

"You would choose an elf over a dwarf?" Squawked Gagnar, looking appalled. Unfortunately, there was an angry murmur from the Iron Hills dwarrow.

Dori shook his gray-haired head, his tone ever cultured. "She saved the life of the King, the princes …"

"Several times over." Balin added.

"Oh indeed." Dori agreed politely with a small bow of his head. "Several times over. And she wasn't the one to try and steal from the trade shipments and jeopardize our dealings with our allies."

A general murmur and a few shuffled feet. What the Company dwarrow had said was true. And Gagnar wasn't even that popular.

"She's still an elf." Came a comment, though the voice sounded less than sure of himself.

"Very astute!" Balin called out sarcastically. "Wouldn't have known that if you hadn't pointed it out. Even when she helped throw us in the Elf King's prison cells."

"Escorted." Tauriel said with a sad smile. "I threw no one."

Balin bowed his head toward her. "Escorted under duress and protest, with you far better armed and being threatening."

The red-head bowed her head back at the venerable advisor. "True enough."

"Yet you accept her now?" A belligerent tone from someone wearing the patches of a lieutenant in Dain's command.

"Ker, is it? Son of Kernit, son of Hernit?" Balin asked, receiving a reluctant nod from the beefy dwarrow warrior. "Well, Ker. It so happens that in battle a weapon can be forged from any stone, from the precious down to that thrown away."

More stirring and mumbling from the crowd. Tauriel simply looked lost.

Balin smiled sadly. "Sorry lass, that be a dwarrow saying. It sounds much better in Khuzdul. It simply means that battle alliances are made through mutual need, and you never know from whence help will arrive."

"It also means you can't be choosy about that help." Ker said almost reluctantly. "Dain's father be the one who said it too."

Gagnar scowled, striking Tauriel's foot with his fist though he didn't dislodge her balance. He did draw her attention back to his ugly self, however. "They promised you something to get you here. An elf? You after the lad for the throne?"

Shocked, Tauriel withdrew her boot, eying the dwarrow most cautiously. "Do not be a fool. No elf can sit on a dwarven throne."

"How about a half-elf?" Came the sly response.

Even without Balin's sudden hiss of warning, Tauriel knew she'd said the wrong thing. "I only meant that I do not seek to rule over any dwarrow. As an elf I have no say in who rules Erebor, or any other dwarven kingdom."

"But you saved the prince's life." Someone whispered shakily.

Tauriel turned, seeing a young dwarrow probably barely of age. Her face softened. "I saved Kili's life because I didn't want him to die."

"Why?"

The red-head smiled and shook her head. "Not for promise of gold or treasure, I assure you. But because the world would be a darker place without him in it."

Shock. Shared looks. A few grunts of approval, and more than a few frowns.

Tauriel looked around in confusion. "What?"

Balin laughed. "Lass. You just quoted Durin IV, did you not know?"

The she-elf shrugged and shook her head. Ker reached up with a hand toward her. Tauriel considered him for a moment, weighing the cautious acceptance on his features. Even though she hardly needed assistance, she accepted his hand as she stepped down from the table.

"Thank you for not knocking over my tea. I'd just got it sweetened right." Ker gave her a small nod. "But these tables could use a good polishing after breakfast. And I know just the right one already on punishment detail to do the job."

It was an apology. One that Tauriel knew not to dismiss. She bowed low and gratefully to the Iron Hills lieutenant, drawing many an approving look. Not from everyone, but more than she'd thought.

Gagnar growled, but kept his mouth shut. Inwardly, his rage only grew.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili woke without disorientation. He knew exactly where he was. When you spent your entire life on the move in one form or another, you had to always know where you were when you woke. On the hunt, the road, with a caravan, on a quest, or even in an elven prison.

Not a prison. Not precisely. Kili frowned. He was in his father's room, having slept in his bed even.

The only disorienting thing was, he couldn't remember choosing to come here. It had somehow just happened. He'd meant to seek out Elrohir, not Elladan.

And from the small sounds in the room, his father was still here. The scent of bacon teased him and he groaned.

"Hurting?" His father's smooth voice.

"Hungry." Countered Kili, pushing his hair away from his face as he sat up on the bed. Looking down, he stopped. "These aren't my socks."

"No." Elladan agreed. "These match, and they're clean."

Kili grimaced at the mild rebuke and then chuckled. "They are yours." He guessed.

"They are." The elf pulled up a small table with a breakfast tray. It was piled high with bacon, smoked fish and something suspiciously green. "They can be your socks if you want them."

"Stop giving me gifts." Kili poked his fork at the green stuff encroaching on the delicious smelling bacon. "Is that spinach?"

"Kale." Elladan answered. "And what's wrong with gifts?"

"Who eats kale for breakfast?" The dark-haired youth picked up the bacon instead, stuffing it eagerly in his mouth. He chewed some, but wasn't done chewing before he started speaking again. "Gifts get me in trouble."

"Elves eat kale for breakfast. Bombur has been making it for us most generously." He handed his son a napkin. "And you should not eat with your mouth full."

"Yeah, Mam says that too."

Suddenly silence stretched out between the two. Kili dropped his gaze and concentrated on his food. He even stuck his fork into the kale and dared a bite.

Mam. Mother. Dis.

Forbidden topic by mutual and unspoken agreement.

"Bacon's good." Kili said inanely. Unsure of what else to say.

"How's the kale?" Elladan asked, his own voice a bit more subdued.

"Green." Said the younger male with a small grimace of distaste. "Could use some vinegar."

"Vinegar?" The elf lord considered the suggestion. "Different." He glanced at his son who was still focused on his food. "I'm afraid that there were several around when I asked for a tray to bring to you."

Kili looked up at that, then flashed a grin. "Afraid I'll ruin your reputation sleeping in here?"

Elladan chuckled, relieved that his son seemed unbothered by the news. "It doesn't bother you to be seen over here?"

"You're my da." Kili said offhandedly, then paused. He sat up straighter and stared at the elf. "You're my da. It would be more strange if I didn't seek you out from time to time."

"Stranger." Elladan corrected then made a face. He'd not meant to correct his son's grammar. "Dwarves are freer with personal space than the elves."

The dark-haired prince stilled, which the elf noticed immediately. "I do not mean that it is an unwelcome difference. I perhaps think elves could do with a more dwarvish sensibility on this issue."

Kili's shoulders relaxed a bit.

"We have a lot of cultural differences that may seem difficult to overcome." Elladan sighed.

"May seem difficult?" Scoffed his son.

"I love you."

Kili choked on his fish, eyes bulging and reaching quickly for his tea. When he finally cleared his throat and began breathing normally again, he eyed his father cautiously.

"Took you by surprise?"

Kili snorted, as if to say the words were a severe understatement.

"You already know my heart has no barriers to you." The elvish father pointed out rather patiently.

"Different to hear it said straight out like that." Kili mumbled.

"And you're not there yet." Elladan acknowledged.

The dark-haired prince stuck his finger in his ear, looking embarrassed. No. He did not yet love his father. That didn't sound right in his own mind, much less making it real by saying it out loud. "I don't hate you."

"Progress." Teased the elf.

But Kili shook his head. "Don't make light of it. I am not trying to be funny."

Elladan stilled for a moment, then nodded graciously. He started to open his mouth.

"And don't apologize." The son interrupted before the elf could begin to form his words.

Having been about to apologize, Elladan simply closed his mouth. "What would you have of me?"

Kili stared. First at his plate, then at his father. Finally he shrugged. "I don't know."

"Not really helpful." The elf pointed out a bit dryly.

Kili hunched his shoulders a bit and then made a face. "I don't know. I don't know! I've never had a father before."

"Thorin." Elladan said the name without inflection.

"No." The young half-dwarven prince said quietly. "Thorin was and is a terrific uncle. And he raised me. Us. True enough. But he wasn't our father. He was our king, our teacher, our guardian, our ideal. But dwarrow have a connection. Lineage is everything. We traced ours through Thorin, but he wasn't our father."

"You love him." It wasn't a question.

"Without limit." Kili replied, as if the answer were a given. Something made of rock and stone and immovable. Unconditional.

Elladan felt the pain of it right through to his marrow. Those words should have been about him. If he'd only been there. Self-loathing and regret he was already dealing with. As well as anger at Dis. "Do you think I can't love you?"

Dark eyes rolled in his direction.

The elf nodded carefully. "I love your humor and the joy you bring others. I love your laughter, especially when you are unaware that anyone is watching. I love the pride you take in your shooting. Your love for others, especially your brother. I love that you try to protect me, even if it was not the best way to go about it."

Here Kili growled, but not in real anger.

"I love that your room is a mess."

"You hate my room." The young prince protested.

"Kuilaith? I don't like your room, but seeing it like that makes me smile because it is so you."

"I'll never clean it again." Vowed Kili.

Elladan laughed outright, a rusty sound to his own ears. "That is NOT what I meant."

"So you're looking to change me." The prince dared to tease.

The elf's laughter faded, leaving a soft smile gracing his face. "I'm simply trying to keep the mold from growing in your room and turning the air to poison."

Kili laughed this time, bright and honest and with real cheer. His entire face lit up with mirth.

Elladan watched, pleased beyond measure. In his heart he knew that Kuilaith didn't love him yet. But it was alright. He didn't mention one other thing he loved about his son. He was no liar. Kuilaith would never say 'I love you' to anyone unless he meant it with his whole heart.

And one day, the elf hoped to hear those words from his son. And he was going to live a long, long time. He could afford to wait.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili tried hard to keep pain off of his face as he moved his arms through what the healer was calling 'range of motion'. It hurt, the muscles pulling at his chest wall as he ran through the motions indicated.

Nuluin seemed less than impressed with Fili's stoic lack of expression. "No."

"You don't even know what I was going to ask!" The blond protested sharply.

"Can you move back into your own bed? Can you take on light duties? Can you start weapon practice?"

"Can I take a damned bath?!" Fili raised his voice just a bit.

Nuluin eyed him carefully. "No."

The crown prince started to go red in the face, so the healer hurried to explain. "Water pressure."

"Huh?"

"Water pressure." Nuluin turned to look at the young prince. "When you've gone swimming in the past, do you ever get the urge to empty your bladder?"

Fili eyed the elf carefully, but gave a small nod.

"Water pressure pushing on your kidneys. Quite natural." The healer shrugged lightly. Water presses on things. Fills voids. Pushes."

"Like on wounds." Guessed Fili. "But taking a bath when injured can be good to clean out a wound."

"True enough." The elven healer allowed. "But this particular wound is to your lung. An organ that expands and contracts. It is not yet sound enough to have water pressure added."

Fili groaned. "But I stink! How about a shower if I can't sit in a tub or a spring."

"Shower?" Nuluin questioned.

Fili preened under the scrutiny. "Dwarven showers. Just the thing." He sighed. "If they have been repaired and still work."

Nuluin started to answer when Balin poked his head inside looking agitated. "Fili!"

The crown prince was up in a second, striding across the floor. "Balin?"

"Thorin is still tied up with Thranduil's patrols, not sure when he'll be back. We need you."

"What's wrong?" Fili asked grimly.

"Blacklock banners coming our way. Will be here before nightfall. Advance messengers says they've seen some battle and will need some assistance. They bring in immigrants as well."

"Notify Oin. Make sure we have everything for an unknown number of patients. Do we have an estimate of numbers? Sound and wounded?" Fili barked. "We need to make room."

"Aye. Aye." Balin scratched his head, but didn't run off.

Fili growled. "Wait. I want archers lining the inner hallways. Just in case. Keep an eye on new arrivals until we know if they match the banners they fly."

Balin looked up, shocked, then nodded thoughtfully. "Good idea, lad. I mean Prince Fili. I'll see to it."

The crown prince frowned. "You've already done most of that, haven't you?"

"Aye." The king's closest advisor said with a small grin.

"Then what did you need me for?"

Balin's grin widened. "Herild Blacklock has a daughter."

Fili looked startled. "Surely he wouldn't have brought her to Erebor without being assured of protection out here."

"He's spoken before with Thorin about a possible match."

The crown prince sniffed and shook his head. "I remember. But that match was with Thorin, not me. She's older than me by about twenty years."

"And considered a beauty." Balin nodded. "At least meet her. But …lad, er prince …take a bath first."

Nuluin stirred, drawing a frown from Fili. "Apparently bathing is out. Are the showers working?"

Balin looked startled. "Bathing is out?"

"Healing thing, just trust me." Fili spoke sourly. "Showers."

The king's advisor nodded, then shook his head. "Not sure, not sure. We need to find out. So you'll get cleaned up?"

Fili finally smiled, even if it wasn't a big one. "Only because I'm turning my own stomach with my stench. Not for a Blacklock who couldn't be bothered to meet me the last time we travelled that way."

Balin smiled sadly. "Lad. You're the Crown Prince of Erebor. No dwarrowdam will say you nay anymore. Your life has changed forever."

With that comment, several dwarrow came in with great big trunks.

Fili stared. "What's in there?"

"Clothing. Anything we could buy or scavenge. You need to look like a prince!"

"I've been a prince my entire life." Fili protested with a smirk. "Wearing velvet won't change a damned thing about me. Especially the way I look."

Balin smiled and winked. "Come. They'll be here before nightfall."

Fili pulled a face and then sighed, giving in with ill grace. "As long as Kili has to do it too."

Balin nodded, but didn't say anything. Kili was probably no longer acceptable to the highly traditional Blacklock family. Not once they learned of the lad's lineage. Still. It would be better to present both lads to their most advantageous. "Of course, of course!"

Fili threw open a trunk lid, pulling out a richly embroidered velvet. Unfortunately it had holes in it. "Moths."

"Next trunk!" Balin said, moving on.


	25. In which Fili gets a new shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternative chapter title: In which Thorin feels a little exposed
> 
> NOTE: I stole a line from a reviewer and paraphrased it. Quadrad described Tauriel's action with Gagnar as holding a blade so close to his eye that it parted his eyelashes. I think you'll agree. It was a line worth stealing! Thanks!

Fili's blue eyes were wide and mildly distressed as he tried to stand perfectly still. "Ow!"

"Don't move!" Dori commanded, swatting the blond dwarrow's thigh to emphasize his point.

Fili had to move his foot forward to keep his balance from the unexpected blow. "Dori! You forget your strength!"

"I said …don't …move."

All Fili could see when he glanced down was the top of the dwarrow's intricate gray braids. "I'm a crown prince." He snarled in his most arrogant voice.

"I have sharp pins. Near where you want no sharp objects, ever." Dori threatened, unafraid and apparently unaffected by the prince's words. He poked Fili's thigh with a finger near some far more tender areas in order to emphasize his point.

The blond's face paled as he settled down with a long-suffering sigh.

"How about this one?" Balin held up a yellow-green bilious looking satin. "No holes."

"That color makes my stomach hurt just looking at it." The prince hated the fact that he was sounding whiney. But this whole process of trying to make him palatable to high-blooded dwarrow females was galling. "Can't I just wear my best leathers? Shine them up or something?"

"No holes." Balin reiterated hopefully while waving the offending piece of fabric and ignoring the prince's suggestion.

The door to the healing room opened as Kili walked casually inside looking like he just rolled out of bed. Dark hair unkempt and with the appearance of seeming like he'd only managed to run a hand through his waves at best. He wasn't in his leathers, but sleep clothing that were beyond wrinkled.

"Where have you been?" Snapped Fili, eyes flashing.

"Nowhere!" Kili snapped right back out of habit, then seemed to realize that Elladan was right behind him. His voice took on an abashed air. "Er ..that is, with my da." He pointed at the elf over his shoulder.

Slightly mollified as well as a bit embarrassed, Fili ducked his head. "You need to get a bath." Still a bit irked that his brother could have a good soak and yet he couldn't because of his healing chest wound.

Kili eyed his older sibling questioningly. The blond was shirtless, his chest wasn't bare though, not with the pristine bandages wrapped tightly around his torso. A thicker pad showed a bit of bulk right over the wound that had so recently pierced his lung. It made Kili a bit nauseated just remembering the sight of his brother's blood bubbling out of the wound and the sound of his wheezing.

The memories of that hour where he'd been alone with his severely wounded brother were some of the worst of his life. Not even the Battle of the Five Armies really measured up, since they'd not been alone then. On that river bank, with just the two of them, and Fili struggling to breathe and even live? A nightmare. "You're alright to be up?" His voice shook slightly.

Surprised, and then seeing the way his younger brother's eyes slid over his injured chest, Fili grunted almost gently. "I'm fine. Except they won't let me soak. Bofur is checking the showers to see if they still work."

Kili looked up, confused. "I thought Bofur's first priority is to make sure the mine shafts are up to par for starting back operations. Get Erebor mining again."

Dori grinned around the mouthful of straight pins sticking out from between his lips. His words were a bit mumbled, but understandable. "Everyone's first priority is to marry off the crown prince. Let him start on making heirs."

Fili grinned and cocked an eyebrow up as Kili began to chuckle. Elladan even smiled and shook his head, though not in denial. "They're trying to make me into a silk and satin dwarrow." He mocked.

"This velvet is falling apart, it's going to have to be the silk." Balin held up the yellow-green material, not paying a bit of attention to anything but his own musings.

Dori looked askance at the white haired dwarrow. "Satin. That's a satin, and the wrong color."

"Thank you!" Fili blew out a relieved breath even as Balin frowned thoughtfully.

"It would look good on Kili though." Dori continued. "Set off his coloring better than it would Fili's."

"Hey! Don't waste your time trying to make me handsome." The dark haired prince said with a teasing grin just as Thorin strode into the room smelling of horse, sweat and the outdoors. "Morning."

Thorin looked around the activity with great curiosity. "I hear we're about to have visitors. Balin, did you arrange for the healing staff and all they need?"

"Indeed, my king. Actually, Fili ordered it all and it's being seen too."

Elladan stilled at those words, cautiously curious to see how Thorin reacted to anyone else issuing orders. Even his own crown prince. It was something that he knew Elrond would find alright, though he'd double check everything. He was also pretty sure that Thranduil would have thrown a mild fit at even the thought. And from what he'd heard of Thorin's actions before the Battle of the Five Armies, the dwarrow had not brooked any incursions upon his authority. Was that all in the past?

"Good. Good." Thorin didn't even tense up as he looked over at his direct heir. "Though we need to be careful about possible troublemakers."

Elladan's relief was almost tangible. A bit surprising though, was the fact that Balin and Dori shared a look that seemed equally as relieved though Fili himself did not seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.

The crown prince of Erebor nodded. "I ordered archers overlooking the entrance areas to remain alert and ready. In case."

Thorin practically beamed with pride. "Well done."

Balin's smile was small, but quite genuine as he coughed to garner attention. "What do you think of this material?"

The king Under the Mountain shrugged, appearing clueless. "Why ask me such?" He made a face at the garish color. "I don't particularly care for it though."

"The Blacklocks might be looking for an alliance." Balin pointed out just as Fili's blue eyes widened and he jerked back with a hiss.

"Watch the pins!" The blond winced, glaring down at the unconcerned Dori.

Thorin and Kili both laughed, with the king shaking his head at the weaving craft master. "Don't kill his masculinity before he even meets any eligible dwarrowdams!" He then pointed at Kili. "And you stop laughing, your turn is next."

Kili held up his hands in surrender. "I don't need a bride, or heirs." The young prince kept laughing, but everyone else slowly ceased.

Suddenly awkward, Balin and Thorin shared a telling look. Fili stared straight ahead while Dori merely concentrated on what he was doing.

Elladan alone peered over at his son. "Kuilaith?" There was a wealth of questions in the one-word query.

Kili seemed to realize he'd spoken something that sounded not quite as he'd meant it. "Sorry, sorry. I just mean I don't need to be shined up and all pretty. I don't need to impress anyone."

That didn't seem to reassure any of them.

Balin cleared his throat awkwardly. "Laddie? You're the second heir of Erebor. You need a bride too." If his mind went to a memory of Tauriel holding a wickedly sharp blade close enough to a dwarrow's eye to part the lashes, he didn't mention it.

The door opened again, this time admitting a beefy dwarrow with a ginger beard. A lieutenant from the Iron Hills.

"Heir?" Kili's mirth finally slid away, like the tide pulling out from the shore. "I haven't been an heir since my father turned up to claim parentage. We all know that." He huffed slightly, then smiled. "That actually was easier to say than I thought it would be."

Thorin's teeth clenching together was audible within the room just as Dain's lieutenant held out a missive for the king. Both basically froze at Kili's words.

"You can't have someone not completely dwarven sitting on the throne of the greatest dwarrow kingdom in Middle Earth." Kili continued unabated. "It's just the way it is."

Ker remained frozen in position, studiously not seeming to pay heed to the prince's words. Especially as they weren't directed at him. He bowed his head and held out the message which Thorin finally took with ill grace.

"Ask him. He knows." Kili waved at the Iron Hills warrior.

Ker stiffened as taut as steel itself, he dropped his gaze. "I am not of Erebor. Do not ask me."

"You're dwarrow." Kili said almost gently, and with no little sadness. He turned his attention back to his uncle, and liege. "You know it's the truth, Thorin."

"Don't." Fili pulled away from Dori and grabbed his brother, pulling him to one side of the room. The others looked away, awkwardly able to hear and highly uncomfortable. "You're my heir and I will have no one gainsay that. Not for any damned reason. I'll fight anyone who says otherwise."

"I gainsay it." Kili tried to smile, but it came out as a weak grimace. He put his hand on his brother's shoulder and leaned in close. "I am your brother and your shield. I watched you struggling to breathe and as close to death as I ever care to see."

"Kili …"

"No." The dark-haired prince sighed deeply. "You've always looked after me. It's my turn. You are the crown prince. I am your brother. I might have once been your heir, but I'll tell you the plain truth. If you ever die before your time, then it's only because someone killed me first."

The brothers stared at each other in silence, and for the first time ever in their lives, Fili blinked first. "Brother …"

"It was different in Ered Luin. And on the quest. We were heirs of Thorin and who knew if we'd ever make it to Erebor, or survive the quest at all?" Kili's voice solidified as he put the weight of conviction in his voice. "Now we're here and it's different."

"No." Fili denied.

"You are the crown prince. That's all. Your job is to learn how to rule and to start a family, continue the Line of Durin. I too have a job. Protecting the throne. Thorin. You." Kili smiled almost sadly. "To tell the truth, I'm not giving up anything. I never wanted the damned crown. It was always to be Thorin's then yours. I serve at your side. Happily and with honor."

Thorin swallowed hard, his blue eyes dark with pride and sorrow all at the same time. Balin actually blinked rapidly to keep the moisture in his eyes from sliding down his face. Ker even nodded his head in acknowledgement. Suddenly Thorin realized his young nephew had saved him from a rather awkward political situation, removing himself from the line of succession. He hated it. As proud as he was, it infuriated him that it was necessary.

Fili leaned forward and Kili met him halfway, their foreheads meeting and resting together.

Elladan watched the duo uncertainly. He was proud of his son of course, both of them, but still sorrowed at the necessity. All because Kuilaith was his blood child. Elven blood. It had cost the lad more than the father had ever anticipated. He ached for both of them and what they were currently facing.

Fili, his eyes closed and his forehead still touching that of his younger sibling, suddenly grinned. "This doesn't let you out of getting all handsome for the dwarrowdams. You can serve at my side, and be my shield while still having your own family. Doesn't get you off the hook little brother."

The lightness of the laughter filling the room was almost a shock after the seriousness of the previous conversation. Kili pulled back with a grimace and a laugh of his own even as he shook his head. "Dori has his hands full making you up, leave me out of this." He seemed far too happy to have an excuse to be left out of the primping.

Elladan stirred, uncertain how his words would be perceived. "My sister Arwen is an excellent seamstress and would be more than happy to lend assistance in making both lads presentable."

Kili drew back, hissing with shock. "Traitor!" He stared wide-eyed at his father.

Thorin nearly choked on his laughter even as he nodded thankfully at the tall elf.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel skipped lunch. Not wanting to go back into the main dining hall. She ignored the whispers whipping through the area like a tornado. She didn't want to hear the recounting of her quarrel with that nasty dwarrow this morning. So when Ori grabbed her hand unexpectedly and pulled her into a side hallway that was little used, she shook her head at him. "I don't want to talk about it."

The younger dwarrow immediately looked sad beyond belief, actually running his hand sympathetically over the red-head's arm in a highly personal way that dwarves all seemed to have. "I'm so sorry!"

"Oh dear." Tauriel breathed out the words in a sigh. It seemed her little outburst earlier had upset her friend. Ori had been nothing but gracious to her since her arrival and it upset her to see him so concerned.

Ori bobbed his head, his expressive eyes instantly showing sympathy. "I should have known you'd already heard. What with the way rumors go around this mountain."

Heard? She'd been there. Tauriel shrugged. "It's of no concern. What's done is done."

"But it's NOT done!" Ori avowed as he drew up straight, looking insistent. "And it shouldn't be done!"

The red-head elf paused, confused.

"That pin looks lovely on you." The dwarrow spoke gently, his eyes lighting on the gift that Kili had made for her. "Lovely."

Tauriel's hand moved up to touch the crafted Elenlote flower. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh!" Ori's mouth moved into a perfect oval and then he closed his mouth and nodded firmly. "Of course. Of course you have nothing to worry about. No one can hold a candle to you."

"Why would anyone touch me with a candle?" This conversation was becoming more and more confusing. "Ori, do you have a point to make?"

The younger dwarrow stared at her, then chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry. Dwarven saying. The lowest of the low craft apprentice's first job is to hold the candle for their master for light. The saying 'no one can hold a candle to you' just means that you are the master, and no one is higher than you."

Tauriel stared at the hopeful young face of her friend and fought not to snarl. The explanation had been fine enough, but without intending to form a pun even in her own mind, it shed no light on this conversation. "The point?" She urged, her green eyes looking confused.

"You have to talk to Lady Arwen."

He said nothing further, just gave her a long look of hopefulness.

Tauriel's eyebrows rose. "About …what?" She didn't even bother to try to explain that she couldn't just go talk to a High Elf maiden without a reason. No matter how friendly the Lady Arwen had been to her since her arrival in Erebor, Tauriel was still not used to the easy way the elves from outside of Mirkwood acted.

"Lady Arwen is mumbling things about making Kili look like a piece of overcooked potato." Ori explained without explaining a damned thing.

Green eyes widened, but Tauriel's confusion only increased. It did not lessen one jot. "Potato?"

"King Thorin is ordering that Kili and Fili both get all prettied up for the arrival of the Blacklock delegation that will get here later this evening." Ori finally got some actually information into his words.

"So. Kili and Fili are to look nice for these newcomers. But Lady Arwen wants Kili to look like a root vegetable?"

"An overcooked one." Ori agreed, and the she-elf was concerned to see the young dwarrow actually start to wring his hands in a sign of nervousness.

"Why?" The red-headed elven lass asked as she shook her head just enough for the ends of her long hair to shimmy.

"To find brides." Ori whispered out this last piece reluctantly, grimacing the whole time.

Tauriel fell still, her muscles seizing into place much like they would have in the Mirkwood forests if something foul had been spotted creeping around. Intruding. Finally her lungs demanded she take a breath and she managed to do that without gasping, an accomplishment to her way of thinking. "Brides? As in plural?"

"Dwarrowdam brides."

A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach made Tauriel suddenly grateful she had skipped her lunch today.

Suddenly, the polite lie she'd told herself about her reasons for leaving the Mirkwood vanished like so much fog beneath the rays of the sun. Yes. She wanted to travel and see more of the world.

With Kili.

It was amazing that she didn't sway on her feet, so fast were her thoughts moving within her head. Memories came and went. Arguing with Legolas and Thranduil separately and together. Whispers behind her back. Snide looks and comments. The relief when it had been put to her as a request to leave the Mirkwood and travel to Erebor to meet with the Lady Galadriel. Something she would not have considered prior to meeting ….Kili.

"No."

Ori's misery cracked into a grin. "You're not ready to give him up?"

Tauriel's lips firmed and her eyes flashed most dangerously. Her shoulders suddenly slumped. "Ori? I can't kill every pretty dwarrowdam that comes visiting Erebor."

"No, of course not!" Ori agreed emphatically. "Maybe you should just maim the first two or three to get your point across?"

Tauriel's mouth dropped open and the dwarrow actually grinned at her. "I but jest! No. You have to speak with the Lady Arwen!"

"Why? To help make Kili look bad?" Tauriel whispered hoarsely.

"Yes. No. I don't know? She sent me to get you." Ori shrugged helplessly.

Tauriel sighed, feeling the beginnings of a rare headache forming. "Why didn't you just tell me that in the first place?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Nori had heard the news not even an hour after it had all started, even though he wasn't even technically in Erebor at the time.

The tavern keeper drummed his fingers on the bar in irritation. Damn that Thorin. It was too bad that he was already pretending to be angry with the dwarven king because now he couldn't go up there and kick some royal ass.

He'd spoken with both Kili and Fili the night of the Durin's Day celebration. But more importantly he'd had his ear to the ground and his finger on the pulse of the morale and rumors going around the mountain kingdom.

If that young laughing idiot of a prince wasn't in love with a certain elf lass, then love was nothing more than fool's gold. And the lad even turned out to be half-elven! It was meant to be!

Thoughts formed and chased down other thoughts in his mind. Some of his ideas fizzled only half-formed. Some died as he traced them down the line to their conclusions. Others were simply ridiculous. What to do, what to do?

Okay. Think Elven. Bah. Nori snorted in derision. He was no elf and didn't know how to do that. Think Tauriel. Elf. Left an elven kingdom for Erebor. Gossip had her half-way accepted by a lot of the Iron Hills dwarrow already. She seemed honest, fair, and honorable.

Ori adored her.

Nori snorted again and twitched his mouth.

Dori cautiously liked her. A little.

That went farther in Nori's estimation than Ori's thoughts, the youngest of his siblings always was a bit on the soft-hearted side of things. But Dori was no one's fool. For all his genteel ways, the oldest brother was no slouch in observations.

Lass was making an effort, but not making an over-effort. Not being heavy handed or pounding it into dwarven skulls that she would make a good choice as a dwarrowdam.

Dwarrowdam.

Suddenly Nori straightened up. He was going about this all wrong. Don't think like an elf. Think like a dwarrowdam. The females of their race were all powerful when it came to courtship. They initiated, accepted or refused, and they made the choices.

Had Tauriel chosen Kili? And if so, how would she show it? How should she …. "Paint me green and call me jade."

Nori grinned suddenly, going so far as to even start whistling a jaunty tune. Now. How to get what was needed? How to get it to the right person up in that mountain? Who was the right person?

_"I once knew a feller with blue eyes like gold, Who made his fortune selling air that was cold. He hemmed and he hawed and he cut through the ice, Giving the Man water and calling it quite nice!"_

Nori sang the old nonsense rhyme that had always made Ori giggle and growl about how it made no sense. He'd once tried to explain how to sell something to someone when the item never actually existed, but Ori had proved too literal minded and Dori had merely rolled his eyes in disgust.

But Nori. Oh yes. Nori knew how to present something you didn't want in such a way that it suddenly became the thing you couldn't live without.

Thorin wasn't going to know what hit him. Nori sobered a moment, then shrugged. Well, that is …IF Kili and Tauriel were the match he thought they might be.

Nori moved from behind his bar, flipping a clean rag to his head waitress. "I'm going out!"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"What are you trying to do to me?"

Thorin's eyes didn't open as he soaked in his tub, letting the heat of the water leech out the stresses of being a monarch. "Kili? Is that any way to speak to your king? One you just pledged before one and all that you would protect with your life this very morning?"

The dark-haired youth groaned loudly. From the sound of his boots, it was obvious that his nephew was pacing in the magnificently tiled bathroom large enough to host a small party of guests. "Do you so hate the thought of Tauriel?" His question was so plaintive that Thorin felt his breath hitch slightly.

Sapphire blue eyes finally blinked open, staring up at the ceiling as Thorin rested his head back on the padded surface rising out of the back of his tub. Once this had been his grandfather's tub. And an unexpected benefit of the crown.

It had been his goal and his dream for decades to come back to Erebor and reclaim the throne. But the reality of moving into the royal wing had been odd at best. His former rooms now belonged to Fili. While Kili occupied Frerin's old suites. It actually hurt a bit to see those two lively souls move into those too quiet rooms with their laughter and their energies.

He himself, as the new king, could have claimed Thror's rooms. But he found that he couldn't.

Memories of his grandfather descending into gold lust and dragon sickness assaulted him whenever he even thought about those rooms. As well as the memories of his own troubles with losing himself to those problems. Thorin had instead taken over Thrain's rooms, having far better memories there than anywhere else.

The bathroom though. Thror's bathroom held no memories, and nothing but pure dwarven luxury. "Get out. I'm taking a bath." Thorin sighed, sinking a bit deeper into the heated water. He closed his eyes once more, content and away from the hectic schedule that comes with trying to rebuild a kingdom. "I need a few moments to myself."

"Parading me in front of dwarrowdams like a piece of cattle up for auction. No thought to what I want or anything else."

Tiring quickly of this. Thorin scowled. "You have no thoughts."

Kili hissed in clear insult.

Thorin ignored his nephew's raging temper and continued as if explaining to a small child. "I am presenting you, as my heir because I haven't officially removed you, to the Blacklock clan. One of the oldest and most powerful dwarven families next to the Longbeards. I need you and your brother looking your parts. I cannot …no, Erebor can NOT appear weak or lesser in any way."

The younger dwarrow stopped pacing, letting his breathing calm. "This isn't about Tauriel, is it?" He asked, as if it had never occurred to him that he wasn't the center of the matter.

"Kili. Nephew. I simply need to present a united family front. Especially now with your bloodline revealed. THAT will not be remaining a secret, far too many already know. I need it shown that I value you no less for your blood and parentage. I need it shown that Erebor values and treasures you." Thorin closed his eyes once again. "Idiot." He said fondly. "Now get out."

"I really am an idiot." Kili whispered, feeling foolish all of a sudden. "But what about the dwarrowdams?"

Thorin rolled his shoulders and sighed in contentment despite the annoying interruption. "The dwarrowdams will look at you or not based on whatever they are looking for in their own hearts. You can choose to accept it if one wants to court you, or you can politely turn her away. Perhaps steer her to Fili, or even Ori."

"Dwalin needs a wife." Teased Kili bravely.

"He'd kill you." Thorin teased back, unalarmed.

"You need a wife."

"I would definitely kill you." Thorin joked, or actually maybe it wasn't a joke the more he thought about it. "Bite your tongue."

"Why don't you …why haven't you …." The question wouldn't quite form in the young prince's mouth.

It didn't matter, his uncle knew what was being asked. "I was too focused on regaining Erebor and holding our people together. And no one that I met ever called to my soul."

"Do you regret that?" Kili asked in a quiet voice.

Thorin actually laughed, but didn't look up. "No. Can't say that I do. Besides I have you and your brother as my heirs. There are no finer." He coughed humorously. "Most days. When you're not interrupting my bath and asking highly personal questions."

"I can't be your heir anymore." Kili couldn't just leave it there, he couldn't. His tone dripped with emotions mixed all together. Sorrow, bitterness, disappointment. Loss.

"I haven't removed you." Thorin reminded his nephew in a very careful tone of voice. "Very nice speech you gave earlier, but it lacks the weight of dwarven law. Me."

"I'm not full-blood dwarf." His tone fell strangely bland on those words as if Kili were trying hard to conceal his emotions on the matter.

Thorin sighed, deliberately not looking at his nephew. But he could picture that face in his mind. Those eyes, that hair that refused to be tamed. That spirit. "Kili. You are blood of my blood, son of my sister. I trained you. I held you as an infant. I patched up your first injuries. I yelled at you."

"A lot." Came the hoarse response.

"Yes, I yelled at you a lot." Thorin agreed with a small smile. "It was a huge blow to find out who, or rather what, your father is. But you are still you."

"But …Elves. Thorin. Elves."

"Don't 'Elves Thorin' me you little blighter." The king groused, finally raising his head and pinning his nephew with his steely gaze. "Tauriel is an elf. And no one misses how you look at her. I raised you better than to fall in love with an elf!"

Kili's face split into a sudden grin. "I don't have to court the dwarrowdams?"

"Just be nice to them." Thorin sighed heavily. "I can't choose who you fall in love with, or who you wake for." He paused suddenly. "Are you awake?"

Kili's grin dimmed, then brightened again. "Not yet. But sometimes I feel, I don't know, a prickle along my skin. Down there. When I think about her."

Nerves. Thorin grunted, not sure how he felt about this news. The nerves coming alive were the first sign of a dwarrow's awakening body. Nerves that began firing up could lead to some painful itching from what Thorin had been told. His eyebrows arched up. "Does it itch? Or is it painful?"

"No …no." Kili frowned, his eyes widening a bit. "Is it supposed to be?"

"Maybe you just need a bath." Thorin said dryly. "Perhaps you don't wash well enough, or your skin is drying out."

The younger dwarrow groaned and shook his head. "I don't want to talk about this with you."

"Itching is a sign." Thorin said slowly.

"Balin explained. Better than you did." The younger dwarrow teased, though his uncle ignored him. "Said it means that I should be careful, that I should steer clear of anyone making me feel like that unless I wanted the possibility of falling in love."

The king nodded thoughtfully. "You know that there is no nonsense of a One. One soul born to be your other half. That you have to meet and get to know one another and find out if love between you is possible or compatible. You may be part elf, but don't fall for that silly nonsense of seeing someone and knowing instantly that you will love them forever. Life doesn't go like that."

Kili nodded, then peeked up at his uncle's face as he decided not to argue the point. "I'm not running away from her."

"You two won't find it easy." Thorin warned. "And you could still find someone else to love, you could walk away from this relationship before you wake up proper."

Kili made a glowering face and shook his head emphatically.

The King Under the Mountain sighed with resignation. "When we have the portraits of the royal family made, we'll have to let the artist know to stock up on red."

Kili's laughter was immediate, and not a little bit relieved.

"Meet the dwarrowdams, nephew. Just meet them. It doesn't hurt you and it will prove to you whether or not your choice is what you want, and not just the first pretty face that came along and paid you any mind."

"Yes, uncle."

"Now go away. My water is getting cold."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dori stared at Bofur as if he'd lost his mind, then looked back down at the objects in the hatted dwarve's hand. "Have you lost your sanity?"

"Nori sent these to me." Bofur whispered, still unsure how he felt about it all.

"Oh well. If Nori thinks it's a good idea." Dori said with utmost sarcasm, and then seeing someone start to open the door, he put his hand on Bofur's to help hide the questionable things.

Arwen swept into the room brandishing a long and elaborately embroidered elven robe in a rich purplish-blue that shimmered. "This should be the perfect color for Fili."

Dori stepped in front of Bofur, allowing the dark-haired dwarf to hide the items they'd been discussing. His appreciative eyes measured the robe, finding there was plenty of plain silk to craft a very fine shirt. "Quite the thing, but you shouldn't have to sacrifice one of your pretty things."

"It's not mine." Arwen winked. "It belongs to my mother's father."

Dori blinked, why couldn't elves just say grandfather? Then his mouth dropped open in consternation. The lady's grandfather was … "Lord Celeborn? He is offering us this?"

"He would if he knew about it." Assured the she-elf with a vivacious laugh that pulled an answering grin from both dwarrow until they realized what she meant.

"He doesn't exactly know you purloined his clothing?" Bofur asked in a husky whisper, as if the silver-haired elf was about to step out of the shadows and avenge the silken robe that Arwen was already measuring out.

Dori reached out and fingered the incredibly beautiful fabric, his face scrunched up as he eyed the seams. He'd seen Arwen's stitchery in her Durin's Day gifts. "You didn't make this." It wasn't really a guess, the hem was not even and there was a pulled stitch or two where the shoulder met the chest piece.

Arwen pressed her lips together, her eyes dancing merrily. "Lady Galadriel made this for him."

Dori dropped the soft silk as if it suddenly turned scorching hot. "Oh dear. Oh dear!" The always correct and well-mannered dwarf almost went into spasms at the enormity of what was being presented.

He was saved when the door opened again, letting Ker walk in with yet another small trunk. The Iron Hills lieutenant dropped it, sending up a cloud of dust much to Dori's protest. "Found this in the ….ladies quarters." He changed the Khuzdul word he'd been about to say to the Common tongue translation, sliding a glance at the she-elf currently ripping out seams.

Bofur ignored the dust and threw open the trunk. Moths immediately flew out, making Dori deflate even further. The fabrics inside would most liked be holed through by now. He turned to look with avarice at the lovely silk that Arwen was handling. She had the audacity winked at him. "You're turning me into a thief." He whimpered, disturbed that this she-elf was getting him to do something that a life-time spent with Nori could not.

Bofur scratched his chin and shook his head. "No. No, I believe she be the burglar and you be the accomplice after the fact as it were."

"Semantics." Sighed Dori as he accepted the first length of silk that Arwen handed him with great reluctance, but also with some greed. It really was wonderful material and it would complement Fili perfectly.

"Speaking of contraband materials …" Bofur let his voice trail off, his question of what to do with the items Nori had sent still utmost in his mind. He patted the trouser pocket where the small items were currently hidden from view.

Dori's lips thinned and he looked highly put upon as he shook his head.

Bofur coughed in the awkward silence that fell over the small group. "Where are the lads?" He finally asked.

"Kuilaith is taking a bath, while Nuluin is helping Fili in the shower." Arwen answered as she fingered the elaborate embroidery on the borders. "Some of this can be used for the cuffs."

Bofur scoffed. "Why does Fili need help?"

"To keep his wound dry." Arwen answered absently as Bofur and Dori both nodded in understanding. "And to redress it when he's finished."

"Now, no need to be getting our hopes up for these first visitors to Erebor. Lads might not find brides yet." Bofur smiled. "More will come visiting or to stay, just because these are the first won't mean they'll be the best."

Arwen frowned sharply, and Bofur's smile slipped in intensity. "Fili I understand. But why present Kuilaith? It's not fair." She'd already expressed her dissatisfaction with putting forth both young princes as it were.

Dori winced in sympathy and shot his fellow dwarrow a hard look. Bofur patted his pocket again. "Not fair to Tauriel? No promises there as of yet I believe. They haven't quite gotten that far." The hatted dwarf said cautiously.

Ker frowned and looked up, keenly interested in the she-elf's response.

Arwen shot them all a surprised look. "Well, it's not fair to her. But I meant for him! Kuilaith is still technically underage. To force him into a position to choose a person for the rest of your life? No, it's not fair." The other three dwarves all relaxed somewhat. "AND it really, really isn't fait to either he or Tauriel." She smiled a bit wanly. "Now that YOU brought her up." And Arwen had spoken with the pretty red-haired elf lass, but the warrior from the Mirkwood just didn't seem ready to open up on the subject. Leaving Arwen in a quandary.

The three dwarves flinched slightly. But didn't know what to say. So they said nothing. Silence filled the area as they each concentrated on what they were doing. But such a silence could only last for so long.

"So. What are dwarrowdams like?" Arwen asked, trying to fill the suddenly awkward silence and ignoring the undercurrents that she wasn't really sure about. "What is considered beautiful among dwarrows?"

Bofur, willing to be distracted to avoid making a decision, smiled at the she-elf. "A grand sense of humor."

"A lady-like sensibility." Dori added.

"A great figure." Ker said, poking through the trunk's contents to see if anything could be salvaged.

Arwen giggled and looked between the three dwarrow, amused beyond measure.

Bofur nodded thoughtfully. "A great figure couldn't hurt." He admitted.

Ker shook his head at the small trunk. "Some buttons and such are salvageable, but the fabrics are not." He declared. The Iron Hills lieutenant looked up, only to freeze as he realized that the beauteous elf lass was staring right at him. "Lady?"

"Are you married, good Master Dwarf?" Arwen asked gently.

"No." Ker denied.

"Maybe we should be making you a nice new shirt." The she-elf smiled at him.

A flush built up from his neck on up, matching his rather ginger beard. "Bofur's not married either." He quickly threw the Company member to the wargs as it were.

"Neither is Dori." Bofur avowed suddenly, actually pointing at his gray bearded and braided friend.

"Craft master!" The older dwarrow threw up his hands in surrender with a small laugh. "Not interested in marrying."

"New shirts all around then?" Arwen clucked her tongue. "What with all the warriors from the Iron Hills, and I'm assuming a lot of them are unmarried?" Receiving a reluctantly acknowledging nod of the head from Ker, she continued. "Then my mother's father may have to sacrifice the rest of his robes for the grand cause."

The three dwarrow shared a shocked and nervous look, the kind that clearly showed that they had no idea if the elven lass was teasing …or not.

"You just want to keep Kili for Tauriel." Bofur pointed out, but without judgment clouding his tone. "By throwing all of the eligible dwarrows at the dams as they arrive."

Arwen smiled, not denying the charge. "Why not? And why not Tauriel? She's funny, and gentle and with a great figure."

Bofur opened his mouth to deny all three charges when Dori suddenly stepped heavily on his foot. So what if he personally found Tauriel to be focused, driven and on the slender side with few curves? Okay, almost scrawny to his way of thinking. Still, he guessed that Tauriel was pretty enough in her own way.

"Why should they not fall in love?" The she-elf persisted.

"She's an elf." Ker pointed out the obvious, his tone almost apologetic.

"So is he. Partly." Arwen shrugged off the argument as inconsequential. "Kuilaith is Elven as well as Dwarvish."

Bofur stilled, putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out the handful of beads. Each carved and full of meaning. He looked over at Dori, who shrugged. So the hatted dwarf made a hand sign or two, showing he was going to consult someone.

Dori grimaced, but bobbed his head up and down a bit. "True. It's hard to think of the lad being part elven. We've known him as a dwarrow since, well …ever. Makes sense. But as you say, he's still young, and even younger by elven standards anyway." He appeared to be talking to Arwen, but his words were meant for Bofur. "Perhaps Kili is too young to think of finding a bride at all right now."

Bofur's hands tightened around the beads in his palm, indecision clearly shining from his eyes. He flashed a hand sign.

Dori flashed two back in quick succession.

Ker looked up and caught the last one, his own eyes quickening with curiosity and question. He signaled a 'what's going on' hand sign at the two Company dwarrow.

Dori shook his head, reluctant to share.

Bofur shrugged and nodded his head at the gray-bearded and braided dwarf to further distract the Lady Arwen, who was tediously pulling out tiny stitches to keep the silk fabric intact. He then gestured for Ker's hand.

Dori mouthed a very tart word that Nori would have enjoyed, but turned to speak with Arwen quickly.

Bofur took the hand of the Iron Hills lieutenant and poured the beads into his calloused palm. Ker hissed in surprise, his eyes going wide. Bofur shrugged helplessly. He used the dwarven sign for 'unsure'.

Ker glanced at the two other occupants of the room and then rolled his head in a 'damn you' gesture that wasn't technically a dwarven hand sign but was pretty clear nonetheless. He flashed two quick signs. 'Why me?'

Bofur grinned and shrugged. 'Lucky' was all he would offer in the silent, hidden language that accompanied Khuzdul. 'Decide'.

Ker mouthed a word as equally as tart as the one Dori had used. Then he added a few more for good measure.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin stood naked as the day he was born before his limited wardrobe. The door to his chambers crashed open without preamble or announcement. Which meant it was one of two persons. "NEPHEW!"

"Sir?"

Without turning around, Thorin grunted. Fili this time. "Shut the damned door, there's a draft!" He reached calmly for a pair of fine leather pants embellished with dwarven designs stitched intricately down the sides with gold and silver thread.

Fili swallowed hard, eying the proud and straight back of his uncle and king. Still in a high temper, he did as he was told. Then he opened the door back up again, because he was in that kind of mood.

Thorin did turn around now, his eyebrows going up. He could see the guards from the Iron Hills outside his door, while a few others walked by his private chambers. All averted their eyes, though nudity wasn't exactly a taboo among dwarves, it wasn't exactly casual either. "Nephew?"

"I thought you couldn't be both king and uncle." Fili said, crossing his arms. He actually forgot his injury until he jostled the freshly dressed wound. It was healing well according to Nuluin, but it still ached fiercely. But he fought not to show his pain, especially not now.

Thorin though could read the facial expressions of his sister-sons rather well. He caught the slight flinch around the eyes and his temper settled on simmer rather than boil. "Something bothering you?"

Fili had a whole argument worked out in his mind, complete with what Thorin would say and his own responses. "Kili shouldn't have to be paraded before foreign dwarrowdams."

"Agreed."

That exploded all of Fili's arguments and his mouth opened and closed in a bit of shocked surprise. "Agreed?"

"Neither of you should have to be. But you are my heirs. It comes with some good things, being princes. However, it comes with some unsavory things as well. You don't have the luxury of choosing a bride based solely upon love and being able to take your time doing it."

Fili stared at his uncle, and his anger deflated with some hard realities. He closed the door behind him, giving them privacy. "You never chose a bride."

"I didn't have a throne, I barely had a moment to myself. Not since Smaug first destroyed our home and our way of life." Thorin explained as he sat and pulled on his leather trousers. "I had nothing to offer a bride."

"You're the king. Direct descendent from Durin the Deathless." Fili answered, his conversation not going in any direction he'd anticipated.

"And some dwarrowdams would have accepted the blood in my veins as their only dower price. But I couldn't do that." Thorin sighed, then grinned. "Anyway, it's a convenient excuse. I didn't want to marry, and never met anyone to make me want to change my mind. Dain's the same."

"Leaving it to me and Kili." The blond sighed unhappily.

"I thought you wanted to get married, make dwarflings."

"I do!" Fili proclaimed, then shook his head in bemusement. "I really do. I want to fall in love and have a large family."

"Good! Grand! And don't think you have to choose the first pretty face that comes along." Thorin suddenly frowned. "And I'd caution against a marriage alliance with the Blacklocks. Sneaky clan that. Took in the fewest refugees from Erebor, and those they did accept where among the wealthiest if you catch my meaning."

The crown prince nodded grimly. "They're one of the reasons the rest of Middle Earth thinks dwarves are greedy?"

"One reason among many, but still. Not a great example of dwarven honor. A long history, tracing back to one of the original seven fathers of our people."

"But not Durin." Fili said proudly.

"Not Durin." Thorin agreed with equal pride. "But that's not why you're here and angry and showing off my naked ass to half the world."

Fili had the grace to drop his gaze, even if his grin was not much on the repentant side. "Kili."

"I've already talked with him." Thorin said calmly, moving back to his wardrobe to choose a shirt. He had neglected his royal closet for much more necessary things. Such as rebuilding his kingdom. "The last time I visited the Blacklock's they paraded their wealth in front of me as a goad."

"You have a whole amassed treasury to choose from in order to outshine them." Fili pointed out, then shook his head. "But it might not be wise to show them."

Interested, Thorin turned and gave his heir an expectant look.

"If the Blacklocks are as greedy as you've said." Fili spoke slowly, thoughtfully. "Parading out our worth, when they know we are ill defended could be asking for more trouble instead of less."

"Follow that thought." Thorin encouraged his heir with shining eyes. He'd always been rougher on Fili than he had Kili, but then, the blond was to be king after him. While his younger nephew had simply been someone to treasure and protect. It wasn't fair to either of them, but it was reality.

Fili knew a test when it was presented to him, but he didn't falter. Instead he straightened. He loved it when Thorin taught him like this and he didn't want to disappoint, his earlier anger melting away. "So, not a huge display of great wealth. But to present ourselves poorly would be un-dwarven and a blow to both our honor and pride."

Thorin nodded in encouragement, not interrupting.

"We should have Dain's lieutenants richly armored and standing with us. He is our cousin and blood. His might backs us up."

"Go on." The king smiled almost smugly to hear his heir's words.

"Conversely, you should be in finery instead of armor." Fili added.

Thorin frowned thoughtfully, his chin going up. "Explain that one."

Knowing his uncle wasn't sure he agreed, the blond nodded quickly. "To show that you have no fear of the Blacklocks. Or anyone else. You rode to Erebor with a thin company to face down a fire-breathing dragon and ended up facing a battle against goblins and such. You don't have to prove your toughness."

The king considered those words quite intently, then finally gave a grunt of approval. "Perhaps." He allowed.

"But your finery shouldn't be every bit of gold we have." Fili hurried forward. "Instead, a few pieces of excellent worth and craftsmanship. Pieces important historically to all dwarrow. To emphasize your connection to Durin. It's too bad we don't have access to Durin's Axe." He mused.

Thorin winced. That piece of history was lost somewhere beneath the deathtrap that was Moria at the moment. Inaccessible. "There are still some worthy pieces here that we can choose from." He said slowly.

"Me, by your side. I could be in armor or finery, your choice." Fili sounded far more enthusiastic.

But Thorin's attention got snagged and his blue eyes sharpened. "Kili too."

"You don't need Kili there." Fili said, his eagerness dimming slightly.

"I told you, I've already spoken with your brother. I'm not forcing him to marry a dwarrowdam. I just want him to have options. He's never been seen for his true worth as an heir of mine, especially when I had nothing tangible to leave him. But now there's this." He spread his hands wide, the impact of his words not diminished by his lack of a shirt. "Erebor. An alliance with Durin's line. With the royal family."

Fili winced.

"If after a while, he still wants to court this elf lass he's so taken with, so be it." Thorin finished, sounding a bit grouchy.

Fili though, looked up with hope. "Really?"

He looked so puppy-dog like in his demeanor, that Thorin was startled into a laugh. He pointed at his heir. "That's Kili's 'I want something' face, it doesn't look as good on you."

The blond prince chuckled, but grinned, knowing his uncle was right. No one did the melting eyes look better than did his younger brother. "So. You're alright with Tauriel?" He asked bluntly.

Thorin winced and ran a hand through his unbraided hair. "Alright? No. No, not really. An elf? Of everyone in Middle Earth? An elf who even took us prisoner?"

Fili laughed, for all the grump in his uncle's voice, it wasn't hatred or disgust. Which was a good start. As for Tauriel, he didn't see the attraction his brother had for her. Or any elf for that matter. But if she was Kili's choice, that was good enough for him. Especially since the she-elf seemed to look at his brother with the same longing.

As for tonight, the blond was just happy that Thorin and Kili weren't at odds on the matter. And it helped that elves didn't seem the jealous type.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel sharpened the last of her blades, wishing there were more. Not that she could use them. Not here, not like this. She sighed unhappily.

A polite cough from the doorway had her looking up in surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As cliffhangers go, it's a very little one ...


	26. In which there is blood spilled

Tauriel calmly wiped her oiled and sharpened blade, sliding it smoothly into the hardened leather sheath that had been crafted especially for her. Her fingers hesitated on the etched runes that called upon the light of the sun and stars to strengthen the metal. It wasn't magic. It was friendship. Legolas had gifted her the sheath seven or eight years ago when her previous one had started to shred.

A gift between friends and comrades in arms. So she'd thought at the time. The red-head closed her eyes, unable to face her memory of the betrayal in Legolas' eyes when she chose a path leading her away from the Mirkwood.

But she could not deny the pull of a certain dark-haired, dark-eyed, laughing dwarf.

Tauriel opened her eyes and looked upon the dwarves standing in her doorway. The faces were bristling with beards and braids of all kinds. A veritable collection of beads, metals, carved bones and even some gemstones. All the eyes on her were quite serious, and no one was smiling.

"Yes?" The she-elf moved slowly, placing her sheathed blade down carefully in front of her. Her pale and elegant fingers were free and ready to draw several nearby weapons if such a need arose. It had only been this morning when she'd threatened one of their own.

For these were Iron Hills dwarves. None of Thorin's Company with whom she was far more familiar.

"A word?" One stocky and broad chested dwarf with a distinctly ginger beard asked. His tone was polite, almost hesitant. At least she recognized this dwarrow. Ker, if memory served.

Tauriel raised a single eyebrow in question. "Only one word?"

A slight twinge of a smile that might even have been in her imagination. "Perhaps more than just one." He admitted, his left hand nervously going to straighten his jerkin.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Bombur and Bifur walked through the hallway. The rotund ginger-haired dwarf was carrying a bottle as if it were a treasure, a very fragile one at that. The more gristled warrior trailed behind carrying several fluted glasses in his large hands.

Glorfindel and Lord Celeborn glanced in their direction, with the silver-haired one returning to their quiet discussion. However, the ancient warrior from Gondolin paused, his attention arrested. He gave a soft whistle.

Bombur looked over at him and nodded, giving a quick wink and a grin.

Glorfindel turned back to Lord Celeborn and smiled. "Perhaps we should move this conversation to another locale?"

If the leader of Lothlorien was surprised he did not reveal such with his face. He simply cocked his head slightly to one side. "Where?"

The golden-haired elf shrugged. "I don't know. But I'm following him." He pointed after the portly dwarf as Bombur headed up the stairs, with Bifur following behind.

Lord Celeborn sighed with much patience. "More of your bubbling cider?"

"You liked the bubbles when you tried the drink." The ancient warrior pointed out cheerfully as he turned to follow the dwarves upstairs.

The silver-haired elf shook his head. "Not as much as you. It's just juice."

"Then don't come." Glorfindel slid a glance at the other tall elf with a sly smile. He glided up with steps with a lethal seeming grace. "My friend Bombur will not lead me astray."

Lord Celeborn looked around the hall, then followed his friend with a slow reluctance. Winning over the trust of his daughter's son's child did not mean that he had to befriend every dwarf crossing his path. Elladan and Elrohir he could understand. Those two should make every effort. But Glorfindel? To what purpose was this supposed infatuation with all things dwarven?

The silver-haired leader of Lothlorien looked up the stairs and saw his friend pointing out the correct hallway to take before disappearing after the dwarves. Celeborn sighed unhappily.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Brinarg turned the well-crafted dagger over and over in his hands, grinning like a fool. The blade had been used and bore small jagged nicks, evidence of hitting bone or even rock during battle. "It's still sharp." He commented, rather pleased.

Gagnar watched the unholy light in the other dwarve's eyes with some discomfort. He shifted his weight to his other foot. "I'm supposed to be in the main dining hall." He paused and then shrugged. "Cleaning." He added, just to make his point that he was disobeying just being here.

Brinarg shot the Iron Hills dwarf a shuttered look of distaste. "Didn't bother to clean the blade though."

"Brought it to ya as I found it after the battle." Gagnar pointed at the fine blade whose original owner would have been appalled if he had seen it so mistreated. Dried fluids and hair stuck to the hilt. "Buried completely in the body of a warg, it was."

Neither dwarrow mentioned how the blade was clearly of elven design and make. Nor did either talk about how the blade should have been returned to the Mirkwood elves. They didn't know if the owner was even alive or dead. They didn't care.

"Worth a pretty copper bit." Gagnar made a face, still a bit upset from this morning.

"You're not thinking of charging me for it?" Brinarg asked archly, acting shocked at the very thought. "Your friend."

The beady-eyed Gagnar scoffed. "Where was my so-called friend when that bitch of an elf was about to pierce my eye?"

"Watching your back." Brinarg lied quietly. Not that he would have stepped in, or even said anything. "I knew you could handle one lone bitch-elf."

Gagnar shrugged, not wanting to seem lesser by admitting that he probably couldn't have won a fight with the red-head. "It ain't right that a prince of Erebor be interested in something as ugly as her. All stretched out thin and pale, skinny and …ugh. An elf!" He turned and spat into the corner.

Brinarg fought not to sneer at the other dwarrow. "He's no true prince of this realm." He said with quiet emphasis.

"Heard talk he was saying he won't stand in line for the throne." Gagnar mentioned with no little satisfaction.

Brinarg paused, then laughed. "And you believe that?"

Gagnar sniffed through his rather long nose and stroked his mealy looking beard. He coughed lightly. "It's what I heard." He sounded defensive.

"Oh I have no doubt about that." Brinarg said soothingly. "I meant that I can't credit the words though. He's either lying or someone else is. They can say whatever they like, but Thorin hasn't removed the lad from the line of succession now has he?"

"No." Gagnar admitted roughly, somewhat appeased. "And he's had time since those damnable elves arrived."

"Exactly." Brinarg's eyes narrowed speculatively and asked what to Gagnar seemed an odd question. "You get an opportunity to ever clean the kitchens?"

The other dwarrow snorted. "Opportunity? By Durin's great blood soaked axe I wouldn't call the punishment detail an opportunity!"

Brinarg waited as the beady-eyed dwarf listed his complaints against Thorin's Company and all the wrongs done to him. He bit his tongue to keep from telling Gagnar to shut up. Instead he took the time to glance around the area. They were in one of the mining supply rooms. It was between guard duties, when the different rotations were meeting and giving reports. Right after one group of guards finished their rounds and right before the next group began theirs.

Gagnar paused, his rather thin lips sneering. "Are you even listening?"

"No." Brinarg admitted coldly.

A hiss was his only answer, but the dark-haired dwarf didn't care. He didn't have much longer down here. "So. The answer is no, you don't have access to the kitchens?"

"I told you!" Gagnar was nearly spitting mad right now, glaring at his companion. "About the only place they haven't made me clean."

"Too bad. If they did I might have reconsidered what comes next." Brinarg smiled brightly, right before he shoved the elvish blade right into Gagnar's body. He thrust up underneath the ribcage and straight into the heart. An immediately lethal blow.

The dark-haired dwarf let the weight of the body carry itself to the ground, making sure to step clear of the blood starting to pool upon the floor. Brinarg laughed as he pulled out several strands of long red hair and sprinkled them about without regard.

As evidence went, it was rather weak. But then, he didn't need solid proof. Merely a trigger to an explosion. At this point he believed that strong suspicion would be just the thing he needed. And if one of Thorin's precious Company argued that the evidence wasn't enough, then that would merely add to the breeding of malcontents.

Wait.

His orders had been to wait. Brinarg sneered, soothing his inner nerves even as walked out of the supply room door. Seeing no one, he smiled and made for one of the side hallways.

For a race of beings that mined the earth with great patience, precision and meticulousness, dwarves weren't much for simple waiting. It was a racial hypocrisy, Brinarg guessed. If his benefactor was upset about this move and asked him why he hadn't waited, he'd simply explain.

The red-haired elf-bitch had presented a golden opportunity. An argument with Gagnar. Highly public. Knife at the ready. A nice elvish blade. Just like the one left in the beady-eyed dwarrow's body. She could argue all she wanted that she still had all her blades, the hint of suspicion was all that was needed.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel looked around the training yard. Straw-filled dummies with targets on them made her smile. They were painted to look like orcs and goblins. She pointed at the small one on the end. "I don't think you made that one ugly enough."

At least three of the Iron Hills dwarrow actually chuckled, and few more nodded. The others still just watched her.

"Is that all you have to say?" One curious dwarf asked.

Tauriel blinked and looked over at the speaker. She couldn't tell his age, but he was not yet graying. Still, he was easy to pick out. She'd never seen a curlier beard. It was rather short as dwarven styles went, probably in an effort to keep the wild curls at bay. Unfortunately the effect was unsettling. He rather looked like he was sporting pubic hair. On his face.

Tauriel looked away and shrugged. "You haven't asked a single question. And the lot of you were the ones to ask me out here. It's your meeting."

"A cool one, are ye?" This dwarrow she could look at. He wasn't bad looking with his bright eyes and pretty golden brown braids and beard.

"I do not take your meaning." The red-head sighed and looked around her. Five dwarves. All from the Iron Hills, and if she wasn't mistaken. All lieutenants from Dain's command structure. "If you want an answer, ask a question."

"Are you looking to marry Prince Kili?"

Well. That was rather direct and straightforward. Tauriel's face slipped into a neutral expression of cool disinterest. "That question presumes much that has not yet come to pass."

Ker grimaced and shook his head. "If the subject of marriage came up between you and the prince, would you be thinking on the side of yes or no?"

"As it stands at the moment, and without any talk between us of marriage?" Tauriel thought the question over and then shook her head. "If that question were to arise, it would need to be coming from him."

"Yer being evasive." The handsome one spoke up, clearly irritated.

Ker shrugged. "We're being very forward." He sent an apologetic nod toward the she-elf. "Perhaps we should go no further."

The other three dwarves all nodded in reluctance.

Tauriel should have felt relieved that the conversation wasn't going to happen after all. And indeed, she did feel some relief. But there was also a sense of denying the truth to her evasion. "If he asked, I would not be adverse to the idea." She said quietly.

The dwarrow all stopped moving away from her. They all stared at her, then looked at each other. Finally the curly haired one gave a huff of a sound that could have meant anything really. "Because he's a prince?"

"Because I care for him."

Ker shifted his eyes to one side, and then back to her. "In what way?"

"A personal way." Tauriel said a bit shortly. She might be willing to be forthcoming, but this was private. "I began to care for him before knowing he was a prince."

"You've admitted that you knew he was related to Thorin even in the Elvish King's prison cells." This from a dark-haired dwarrow with obsidian beads decorating his beard.

"Related yes." Tauriel admitted. "But not how close or in what context. His title means little to me."

"His worth as a dwarrow outweighs his title?" This from the golden-haired dwarrow with a nod of approval.

Tauriel bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement of the statement.

"You must really be happy that he turned out to be part elvish." This from the curly-haired dwarf with a hint of a frown. As if the admission that Kili was less than fully dwarven was hard to make.

Tauriel considered not answering, or an outright evasion. But this meeting seemed ….important. How, she wasn't sure. Weighing the moment carefully, she chose her words precisely. "His High Elf blood does not help me become closer to Kili."

All five dwarrow stilled, staring at her, almost demanding more information.

The red-head tilted her lips upward, but it wasn't really a smile. "I am not of noble or High Elf blood. I am a Silvan elf."

Ker's eyes narrowed on her. "Kili's blood outranks you."

"On either side of his parentage." Tauriel admitted, holding her head up proudly.

"No matter." The curly haired dwarrow huffed. "You don't look like you feel lesser to anyone."

"I don't."

"If the kingdom were attacked, would you defend?" This from the curly haired one again.

The red-head nodded without hesitation.

"Against elves?" This sly question from the golden-brown haired one.

Tauriel paused, then grimaced. "What is the cause of the fight?"

"Inconsequential." Ker avowed. "The question stands."

The she-elf shook her head. "I …would protect Kili from any and all, no matter the cause."

Ker shook his head. "Not Fili nor King Thorin?" He pressed further.

Tauriel's lips thinned as her eyes flashed in irritation. "Without knowing the cause of the argument? What if one or either of them had slipped into dragon-sickness?"

Two dwarrow rather hissed. Whether or not the sound was aimed at her, the red-head didn't care to guess. Whatever the test was, she was failing. But her personal honor demanded no other answer.

Ker sighed, looking at the other dwarrow with him. They all stared back at him. The curly haired dwarf went first and nodded his head, as if reluctant. The golden haired one sighed deeply, then shrugged his assent. The other two nodded almost in unison.

Ker grimaced and pulled out a set of beads. He stared down at them almost sadly, shaking his head. "Never thought I'd see a day like this one."

A few chuckles greeted his words.

Tauriel knew a test when faced with one. But wasn't sure of the reactions she was seeing. Were the dwarves so happy that she'd failed? She coughed to get the dwarve's attention, then arched an eyebrow at them.

The curly haired dwarrow shrugged at her. "You're over proud, temperamental, a strong fighter …."

"Speak yer mind when it might be best to stay silent." The golden haired male smiled a bit.

"Brave to the point of madness." Ker added, then at her arch look grinned. "Saw you fighting to save the king and his heirs. You could have hung back and stayed in relative safety but rushed forward anyway."

Tauriel watched them all, unsure. "So. Nothing redeemable about me is there?"

Ker laughed for real, deep and guttural. Finally he settled long enough to point a finger at her. "To dwarves, all of that is to the good. Stupid elves to give you up. But we dwarrow don't turn away treasure when offered and you look right sparkly to us."

Tauriel's green eyes blinked, taken aback and feeling off balance mentally.

"She could look more sparkly." The curly haired dwarrow hinted broadly and pointed at the beads Ker was still holding.

"But …" Tauriel didn't have a chance to finish her sentence, which was good because she did not know what to say. Instead, one of the dwarrow dragged over a low bench and dusted off a place for her to sit.

Ker grinned at her as the curly haired dwarrow handed her a silver backed mirror. "Now. These braids, they are very, very important to get right."

"You're going to braid my hair?" The red-headed elf asked incredulously.

"No." The curly haired dwarrow answered with a wide smile. "It's important that you do the braiding. You're going to have to learn this braid and then put those in your hair. It has to be done personally, by you or if incapable, by your mam or a close female relative. Strictly a braid for dwarrowdams."

Tauriel nodded gamely, then frowned. "Then shouldn't a dwarrowdam teach me?"

Ker laughed as the curly haired dwarrow shook his head and groaned. "I AM a dwarrowdam, Miss Elf."

The red-head blinked as her mouth dropped open in shock as she silently replaced all the male terminology in her head to female. "My apologies." She whispered, embarrassed.

"Right. Accepted." The curly haired dwarrow …er, dwarrowdam winked and pulled out a few locks of her dark hair. "Watch my hands carefully now."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin nodded at Fili as his crown prince tried on his new shirt in the shimmering blue silk. "Very fine!"

Arwen went so far as to clap happily, beaming with pride. "I said the color would suit him!"

Dori nodded happily, putting neat little stitches in what would be Kili's new shirt. He looked up as the door to the room opened.

Bombur grinned and headed toward Thorin with his wine bottle. Bifur came in close behind, putting down the fluted glasses.

King Thorin blinked and shook his head. "Save that for when our guests arrive."

Bombur shook his head back and forth, his eyes wide and almost pleading. "It's not a red wine." He rushed out his words just as Glorfindel and Lord Celeborn arrived.

"What have we?" The golden-haired warrior looked at the wine bottle, then shrugged. "I can't read the runes."

Thorin peered at the bottle and from its shape and color, he hazarded a guess. "From the Blacklock traders from before the Desolation?"

Bombur nodded most eagerly, beaming.

Thorin shrugged. "A goodly choice, I suppose. They made it, they'll enjoy it. But no need to open a bottle now."

Bombur shook his head sadly. "It's not supposed to age."

Lord Celeborn nodded, understanding immediately. "A white. He must want to make sure it hasn't turned in the time since …."

"We're calling that time period the Desolation now." Thorin sighed, waving at Bombur to open the wine.

Glorfindel watched with eager eyes. "I do not think I've tried this wine before."

"Bubbles." Bombur smiled rather shyly at the taller elf.

Lord Celeborn and the ancient dragon-slayer both froze for a moment, then both rather shook their heads.

"Bubbles." Insisted the rather round dwarrow.

"I enjoyed the bubbles in my cider." Glorfindel allowed. "But I'd rather keep them out of my wine."

Bombur made a slight face, then the oversized looking cork popped free with a loud popping noise that startled the elves. Wine didn't make that noise. The ginger-bearded dwarf grinned again. "Bubbles."

Glorfindel frowned.

Bombur gave him a hurt, almost pleading look.

The hero of old Gondolin sighed and after a hesitation, finally nodded and pointed toward one of the flutes.

Bombur poured out a glass and Glorfindel cautiously sipped.

Wonder spread across the elegant features of the elf, who actually closed his eyes and shivered in pleasure. "Oh, by all the music in Arda." He whispered.

Thorin laughed as he admitted, "that was one of my grandfather's favored drinks. He did not deem me worthy of sharing but on a few rare occasions."

Glorfindel sipped from his glass once more, smiling happily. "Fili? Prince Fili of Erebor? If the Blacklocks have a dwarrowdam even remotely near your age. Marry her. We need more of these bottles."

Thorin nearly choked on his laughter as Bombur handed him his own flute of the bubbly wine. He sipped it as well, then frowned. "I think I'd forgotten." He looked at Fili. "I take back what I said about not marrying into the Blacklocks."

The crown prince made a face at both elf and dwarf. "I am NOT getting married to keep you two in wine with bubbles!"

Lord Celeborn looked intrigued, and made a gesture for one of the glasses. When he tasted the liquid, a surprised look fell over his rather austere features. "How is it that in all my years, I have not heard of this wine? Does it have a name?"

"It is known as the 'umran alfatmagan." Thorin rolled the Khuzdul word out without hesitation. "It simply means the greatest cup of bubbly wine."

"The name lacks a certain poetry." Glorfindel savored the taste of his drink, smiling in a besotted fashion. "But the wine speaks for itself." He glanced over at his silver-haired friend. "Still not impressed with bubbles?"

Lord Celeborn huffed out an amused breath and sipped from his glass once more. "I take back any word I spoke against bubbles, my friend. And bow my head to the crafting ways of the dwarves."

Thorin nodded in acknowledgement.

Fili groused and looked back and forth between them all, he marched over and took a glass from Bifur. He threw the wine back and gulped it down, making Glorfindel wince as if injured in some manner. The blond shook his head. "It's wine."

"It's ambrosia." Glorfindel countered.

"I am not marrying anyone I meet tonight!" Fili vowed.

The ancient warrior finished his glass sadly, only brightening when Bombur offered a refill. "For a wine such as this? I might marry the Blacklock heiress myself."

Thorin choked at the very idea. Then shook his head. "She might have a beard."

Glorfindel shrugged happily.

Before anyone could poke too much fun at him, the door to the room opened again and a harried Balin stood there, looking pale as a ghost.

Thorin beckoned his advisor inside.

Balin looked at the elves in the room, from Lord Celeborn to Glorfindel and finally settling on the pretty Lady Arwen. He shook his head.

The king scowled at his long-time friend.

Balin shook his head again.

"What is it?" Thorin demanded, not wanting to let go of his good mood.

The white-bearded dwarf sighed most unhappily. "We have …a situation."

"SPEAK!" Thorin roared.

"A body of a dwarf in the supply rooms." Balin snapped. "Wearing an elvish dagger on his person."

Lord Celeborn's eyebrows winged up in shock.

"On his person?" Thorn leaned forward, looking stunned.

"In his person." Amended Balin apologetically. "Buried in his heart."

Thorin sighed, closing his eyes in sudden weariness. "Who?"

Balin wasn't sure if his king was asking if the assailant was known, or the victim. He answered both. "Gagnar, son of Agnarr out of the Iron Hills. The blade is elvish, there is long red hairs on the body, and he was seen being threatened by Miss Tauriel just this morning."

Lord Celeborn shifted his weight in silent protest while Glorfindel's face hardened, his earlier teasing disappearing beneath the serious words. "She would not." The golden-haired warrior began.

"No." Balin agreed. "She's been with the Iron Hills lieutenants for the past two hours. And the dwarf was seen less than an hour ago, alive and well."

Glorfindel relaxed slightly at this bit of news.

"An elvish blade?" Arwen sounded horrified.

Balin shook his head. "Seen it myself. Big problem. It had dried material on it. Warg fur."

Thorin's hard eyes sharpened with speculation. "A blade found after the battle and not returned?"

"The dagger is in no shape that I have ever seen an elf have on their being." Balin nodded generally in Lord Celeborn's direction.

The elf leader nodded back graciously, yet with caution. "A weapon of opportunity?" He posited, though his voice sounded doubtful.

Thorin grunted. "No dwarrow is unarmed."

"Nor any elf." Glorfindel allowed, his mind racing.

"And no real warrior would leave his blade behind, or keep one in such an ill state." Balin added smartly. "Unless someone wants us thinking the killer is elven."

Lord Celeborn nodded slowly, having come to the same conclusion.

The king's advisor and friend sighed. "The thrust was up under the ribs to the heart."

"Effective." Thorin mused.

Balin shook his head. "Wrong angle for someone as tall as an elf." He demonstrated the move in question.

Glorfindel paused, looking quite pleased with Balin's assessment. "I did not think of that."

Thorin grimaced. "I need Nori."

Balin immediately shook his head silently. "He's still angry with you." He offered the public cover for the tri-bearded tavern owner and spy. "But he says he wants to make the elf responsible pay for their crime."

Arwen gasped in shock. Fili shook his head at her in a reassuring manner, whispering something soothing.

"He's looking into the matter?" Thorin gleaned the most important fact from Balin's words.

"To blame an elf." Lord Celeborn said dryly.

Thorin shook his head. "He'll get to the bottom of things. No matter who he might find down there."

The elves looked less than pleased, but had little choice in the matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. What can I say? I have had more than one review mention that they were shocked that Ker is female. My response? HE'S NOT! The black-haired, curly-bearded unnamed dwarrowdam asking questions is the only female in the group of Iron Hills lieutenants. Sorry for any confusion! My apologies, it was 3 am when I posted ....my only excuse.


	27. In which Tauriel is asked to think Dwarven

Tauriel’s arms and fingers were aching by the time she finally accomplished braiding her hair to the satisfaction of the gathered dwarves.

It was a good thing they were gathered outside like this, in a weapons training courtyard. It turned out, they needed the room. The original five had swollen to perhaps three times that number, she was chagrined to note. All with ‘helpful’ hints, ribald comments, and criticism. 

Also, there was an odd tension. A watchfulness that Tauriel couldn’t seem to read well. But every attempt she made and conversation had been gently redirected back to the task at hand. Braids. She couldn’t tell which dwarves were being helpful, misleading, disapproving, shocked, or just plain curious. There were too many.

“Does it look lopsided to you?” Asked one grumpy dwarrow with a beard shot through with gray and a complicated braid of his own hanging from the tip of his chin from a beautiful clasp.

“No. You look lopsided to me.” Ker chuckled, clapping the other dwarf on the shoulder to the general amusement of those gathered. The Iron Hills lieutenant seemed cautiously cheerful, though still reserved.

Tauriel, having spent the past several hours with the dwarves, felt emboldened to ask a personal question. Hoping she wasn’t stepping on any cultural toes. She nodded toward the chin braid. “Does that have meaning?”

The grumpy dwarrow’s eyebrows rose slightly and he gave a proud nod. “The braid? No. Not by itself. But the clasp has my family sigil on it, my da’s father had it made for him year’n ago. I chose this braid as it sets off the clasp so well.”

Another dwarf faked a choking cough and shook his head. “Braid does too have meaning.”

The original dwarf shrugged. “Yes. But not a deep personal one, not like the clasp. She was asking something else, look farther than the tip of your’n own nose.” He turned back to Tauriel with a sheepish smile. “It’s a warrior braid, simple clean and shows that I’ve been in a battle or two.”

The red-headed elf nodded carefully. The braid didn’t look simple and clean to her, but rather complicated. But perhaps to the dwarrow it was a simple braid, simply to show off his clasp. Her jewel-bright eyes traced the clasp in question. “Fine silver work.” She offered calmly, using the neutral tone of voice she’d often used with her king when she was unsure of his mood.

The grumpy dwarrow perhaps flushed slightly and lost some of his frown as he nodded to her in thanks for her words.

“Is it rude to ask if you have a son at home to which it will be passed?” Tauriel asked, pressing forward since the dwarf hadn’t appeared upset with her first question.

Now the formerly grumpy dwarrow fairly beamed. “No. He’s over there! First campaign and all. Fine turn out!” He pointed at a youthful looking dwarrow with a series of pink wounds, closed and healing, alongside his face. Warg claws no doubt. “He insisted on coming with his da for this battle.” His voice fairly dripped with pride as he thumped his leather-padded armor with his fist.

Tauriel smiled and nodded. Why had she ever thought dwarves were cold and calculating creatures capable only of greed? “My people have a very old saying which means that the sun always seems brighter when honor is brought to the family. It is one thing to accomplish something good, it is even better when your offspring do so.”

A surprised jumble of whispers met her words, spreading through the group of dwarrow. The no-longer grumpy dwarf bowed with a true smile. “We have a similar saying, but it translates roughly with singing stones and gleaming axes. I’m afraid it doesn’t have quite the same meaning in the Common tongue. But the significance seems about right.”

“Does her braid still seem lopsided?” Ker asked with a wink and a grin.

The formerly grumpy dwarf elbowed the lieutenant in the side with an admonition to hush up. Several laughs filled the area, hearty and free. “No.” He admitted gruffly.

More guards arrived, speaking with a trio of lieutenants, all with some rather odd hand gestures. Suddenly, Tauriel straightened as she thought of something. “Does Khuzdul only get spoken aloud?” She’d thought dwarrow unusually expressive with their hands when speaking, but could it actually be a part of their language?

Silence.

Ker coughed and shrugged, highly uncomfortable. Finally he grunted as he flexed his fingers rather nervously. “Unless you actually marry the lad, best not to be thinking about things like that.”

Tauriel quieted, stilling her questions before they could form on her tongue. Yes. “You have been very kind already.” She hoped. Holding up the mirror the she-elf studied her new braids and the beads there. Six beads, three different and three identical. “May I know what these braids say at least?”

The curly-haired dwarrowdam who’d introduced herself as Valake grinned widely at her, her teeth startling white surrounded by the blackness of her beard. “Prince Kili can explain.” She said cagily. 

Tauriel glanced back at the mirror in wonder. The thin braids hanging down weren’t heavy, despite the addition of the beads. She then looked over at Valake’s own braids. “You don’t wear such.”

More smiling, this time accompanied by a light chuckle. “No. I am wed to my craft only. I am a warrior.” The dwarrowdam thumped her leather armored chest with no little satisfaction, her smile turning fierce.

“I am a fighter.” The she-elf offered, still a little confused about just what this afternoon was about and the meaning of all of this. Not that she didn’t appreciate the unprecedented approach of the Iron Hills dwarves. She just didn’t know why they were going to such lengths for her, and if it all wasn’t some elaborate joke. On her.

From her left, Ker stepped closer. His smile wasn’t mocking, which helped. “Most dwarves excel at their chosen professions.” He began. “Some though think of nothing but their craft, while others have families as well as their craft.” 

Bright green eyes blinked at the dwarrow beside her as he tried to explain. But it was like trying to learn a foreign tongue. She understood the words, but didn’t think she was catching the fullness of the meaning behind them.

Ker seemed to sense her hesitation and clapped her familiarly on the shoulder, making the elf’s eyes widen slightly. Dwarven sensibilities on personal space was not the same as in her own racial culture. Tauriel submitted to the touch. To be with Kili, she mused to herself, she would need to learn much about dwarves and their ways.

Tauriel looked up again, and caught a hard glance from one of the warriors near the archway leading back inside. “Something’s wrong.”

Ker’s smile dimmed, and his hand on her shoulder tightened. “There’s been a new …issue.” He admitted slowly, reluctantly. His voice gave hint that this new issue might be something dire.

Startled, the red-head’s eyes grew grim with worry. “Kili?”

“Is fine.” Ker assured her hurriedly, his eyes widening a bit at her instant distress. “So is all of Thorin’s Company.”

“Someone’s NOT fine.” Came a gruff murmur somewhere to her left. Tauriel’s head whipped around, looking for the speaker.

Ker’s hand gripped her shoulder a bit tighter. “There was a death.” He admitted with obvious reluctance.

If it wasn’t one of the Company, that meant it was one of the Iron Hills dwarrow. The thought that it might be an elf never crossed her mind. Death and elves were not thoughts that belonged together. “You mention death, but no one who travelled with you was elderly and on the verge of such. The injured have all already passed or are recovering …” Her voice trailed off into a question.

“Gagnar, son of Agnarr.” Ker watched her face carefully.

Tauriel was an elf, her facial expression gave nothing away. Inwardly her mind searched for and could not find purchase.

“You do not know who that is?” Valake asked curiously, her own dark eyes watchful.

Slowly, the she-elf shook her head. “The name is …not unheard of to my ears, but the face to which it belongs escapes me.”

“The one you pointed a dagger at only this morn.” A rough voice called from the crowd.

Connection. Immediate placement of the foul-mouthed evil-eyed dwarf with the name of one she’d heard was on a punishment detail. Next connection. She’d threatened him. He was now dead.

Tauriel did not react. Outwardly. She shut down. Her eyes went blank, her facial expression froze into neutrality. Her muscles did not tense, but instead relaxed into preparation for the possible need to move at great speed. A warrior’s reaction.

Ker grunted. Like recognized like, even with racial differences. “It is known where you were at the time of his death.”

Processing. Tauriel blinked with deceptive laziness, then her green eyes slid over to the Iron Hills lieutenant. “It is sure that he was killed?”

“More than sure.” A new voice pierced through the awkward silence of an on-edge elf and many watching, evaluating dwarves. A ginger-headed dwarrow pushed through the crowd to look upon the seated elf. His eyes lit up with amusement and no little pride as he stared at her new braids, nodding as if all things were in the correct place.

Tauriel watched him carefully, though she hadn’t seen her friend’s brother in a while. “Nori.”

The named dwarf sketched a polite and respectful bow. This seemed to be a clear signal and most of the other gathered dwarves relaxed a bit. “Well met, lady elf and nashatal.”

A few indrawn breaths and shocked looks, some head shaking. But oddly enough, few grumbles. Tauriel kept her attention on Nori, even though she was almost hyperaware of all that was going on around her lest anyone attack. She carefully bowed her head just as he had, though she remained sitting. “Well met, master dwarf and …” Her voice trailed off. “I feel that I make a fool of myself, stumbling as if in a bog. I do not know the correct forms of greeting.”

“Your stumbling around has saved Thorin’s sister-son more than once, and more than likely the king himself. The Maker only knows what you’ll accomplish when set on a clear purpose.” Nori’s smiled turned wicked and teasing. “Though I can’t perhaps like having been thrown into prison cells, by you, but that was perhaps your king’s orders?”

He offered her an out. She refused the offer. “I would have done so without orders.” Tauriel cocked her head slightly to one side, feeling the soft pull of the newly added beads in her hair. Perhaps the weight was more emotional than physical, but she could feel it anyway. “I did not know any dwarves then, and what I did know was not to your benefit.”

Nori’s smile widened and his eyes fairly sparkled, as if she’d passed some test she’d been unaware of. “Ever honest.”

Some grumbles around them, but nothing with real heat or anger. Tauriel’s attentiveness did not relax but she did take in a relieved breath.

Ker coughed and shook his head to garner attention. He sent a small glare at Nori. “We already know her to be honest. And she was with us out here when the killing was accomplished.” He waved his hand at all those gathered in the training area.

Nori nodded, his eyes still on Tauriel. “The king is in the receiving hall. Will you accompany me?” He held out a hand to her.

Valake stirred, the dwarrowdam plucking absently at Tauriel’s sleeve.

Ker and Nori turned to look at her. The dwarrowdam shrugged. “The braids are alone and she is wearing plain clothing.”

Nori sighed, but nodded. “The braids are lonely. True enough. As for her dress, there is no time. For jewelry, I think it is more of a statement that she wears only the pin gifted to her by the prince.” He grimaced. “Those the king is to be receiving have already arrived. Some rode on ahead of the others.”

“More braids?” Tauriel guessed, a bit distressed as her hands went to cover her new beads. It had taken her all afternoon to learn how to put them in her hair!

Nori tutted his tongue and caught the elf-maid’s hand, giving her a tug. “No time, no time. Come.”

“But …” Tauriel found herself on her feet, following the shorter dwarf without much thought. “I haven’t thanked these fine dwarrow yet. Nor learned the significance of my new beads and braids.”

Nori laughed. “They know, and you can thank them properly after. As for the significance. You are now _nashatal._ ”

“I don’t know what it is this all means, what you want of me, or why I even allow this.” She tugged on her hand, but Nori did not release her.

Ker moved up behind her, obviously not wanting to be left behind. He grinned at her, ruining his usually dour expression. “Just stumble around in that bog a bit more. You’ll be fine.”

Tauriel stopped, turning mulish.

Nori grinned even as he was forced to stop when she did. “Kili is in the receiving hall too.” He taunted her lightly.

The red-head’s eyes lit with temper as she glared at the ginger-haired dwarves. They looked amused, damn them. “Kili is not a carrot to be used as bait to lead me where you want me without explanation.”

Nori winked at her. “Explanation? Kili is in the receiving halls and there are eligible and highly valued single dwarrowdams coming in to meet and charm him.”

Aching pain and a sharp indrawn breath was her only response. Her lips tightened with anger.

Valake caught up with the small group. “Don’t turn to stone simply to prove you can, lady elf. Those new braids will help you, not hinder. But only if they’re seen.”

Seen? Tauriel’s left eye twitched with temper and frustration. Plenty of dwarves had seen her braids, and her clumsy attempts to fashion them, all afternoon. So it must be that someone ELSE had to see them. Like her dark-eyed, dark-haired choice of her heart.

“Kili. Pretty and charming dwarrowdams.” Nori rebaited his hook. “Together.”

Tauriel sighed and started moving forward again. “I see what you are doing. Do not think you’ll be able to lead me around. I go on my own accord.”

“Of course.” Nori responded, his eyes deliberately not looking in her direction.

If she heard any gloating in his voice, it was perhaps in her imagination.

o.o.o.o.o  
o.o.o.o.o

“You look handsome.” Thorin smiled proudly at his heir and crown prince. “Are you up to this?”

Dori frowned as he contemplated Fili, eying him speculatively. “The crown is nice, but shouldn’t there be more riches? He almost looks too plain.”

Thorin grunted, his eyes on the rich golden crown almost blending in with Fili’s hair, saved from being invisible with the insets of diamonds. The masculine and dwarvish runes decorating the fine metal declared him of royal blood, and heir to the throne. “We are a working mountain, not given to outlandish displays of wealth.” He said quite deliberately, wanting to present himself and his heir as not being in thrall to dragon sickness, and different from his grandfather’s days as ruler. Thorin shuddered at the dark memories of his initial return to Erebor. “You look pale.”

Fili dismissed his still healing lung wound with a wave of his hand. The hand on the opposite side of where he’d been skewered. Thorin’s right eyebrow lifted in question. “I’m fine.” Said the irritated blond dwarf as he turned his head in both directions, obviously trying to get used to the weight of the crown on his head.

Thorin looked to Nuluin, the healer. The tall elf shrugged. “The wound is closed and healing. He simply needs to keep from getting an infection and rebuild his endurance.” He shook his own head, bemused. “The restorative quickness of the dwarves is remarkable.”

“We are stone.” Thorin announced with no little pride, using a phrase common to all dwarrow.

“Stone that still aches.” Kili muttered, wincing as he watched his older brother draw too deep a breath and having to push back against the pain.

“I said I’m fine. I’ll rest after the greetings.” Fili promised as he gestured for the soft leather coat lined with rich fur that would complete the outfit. Dori handed it to him without a word, but with worried crinkles in the fine lines around his eyes.

“Well, this stone still needs his rest.” Teased Kili darkly, coming up behind his older brother fast as if to poke him in the side.

Fili flinched and blocked a move that never materialized. It was a feint. Finding the dark-eyed prince gloating over his victory of making him react, the blond scowled. “Like I said, you need to rest.” 

Fili’s fist balled up.

Thorin coughed demandingly. All eyes turned to him. “No fighting. You’re both too pretty to mess up and our guests are arriving.” He didn’t mention that Fili was indeed still recovering from his wound, and that Kili himself wasn’t up to par from his bout with pneumonia. Appearing weakened was just not done in their society.

“Perhaps if young Prince Fili were to sit?” Lord Celeborn peered up at the raised dais. “If King Thorin sat, with the prince at his side?”

“Sitting would be seen as weakness.” Dwalin shook his head as he paced in front of the throne, throwing glances at the raised area as if trying to see it through a stranger’s eyes. “Didn’t you used to have a gold inlaid chair, Thorin? When you were younger and sitting in on meetings with King Thror and your father?”

Thorin shook his head. “Two broken legs and dragon teeth marks on the gold.”

Dwalin grunted unhappily.

“Or it could be presented as if the visitors had no importance.” Lord Celeborn shrugged. “You did not mention the Blacklocks with love in your voice.”

“When?” Thorin asked, frowning as he rubbed a speck of dirt off of one of the rings he’d chosen to wear today. It didn’t fit quite right, but there was no time to size the heirloom piece properly. That would have to come later. Thorin frowned down at the cut emerald that had once belonged to his grandfather’s grandfather. He’d worry about the fit of his rings later. Much later. There were too many repairs to be done in Erebor, especially with Mordor stirring alarmingly, to worry about such trivialities. “We don’t have time for this.” He muttered only to himself.

Lord Celeborn raised one eyebrow, but did not look as disdainful as he usually did in front of the current King Under the Mountain. “When? Every time.” He tilted his lips upwards very slightly. “Each time you have mentioned the Blacklock name, there has been little love or respect in your tone.”

Thorin snorted, looking askance at the silver-haired elf lord. “Thank you for the warning, I will have to watch myself. I may want to insult the Blacklocks, or I might not. But if I do, I’d rather it be deliberate and not offhand.”

“Wise.” Lord Celeborn bowed, or rather, simply dipped his head slightly. 

The dwarven king stilled, but could not discern any mockery in the tall elf’s manner. Nervously he nodded back at him. “As for sitting, that would be too obvious. Besides, we won’t be standing long. It is my understanding that several ride on ahead of the main group. This initial greetings should not take over long. Both princes can be dismissed after that.”

Lord Celeborn did not push the idea forward again. It did not really matter to him if the king and his heir were standing or sitting. In point of fact, he wasn’t sure why he and the other elves were even in the receiving hall. Only that his wife had wished it so. She had a …feeling. And that was good enough for him. Over their many years together, Celeborn had learned to heed his wife’s odd hunches. Some turned out to be very small things. Though others did not.

As if thinking of his bride of light, Galadriel moved up beside him and he smiled at her. She was a vision to his eyes. “You are more beautiful to me upon every meeting.” He murmured.

The golden-haired Lady at his side turned up the warmth of her smile, just for him. The two shared a mutual moment of complete understanding without words before returning once more to the world around them.

The Lady Galadriel looked over the grouping of dwarves and elves, her eyes settling upon the resplendent king with light gleaming prettily in her gaze. “That is Durin’s Eye? I have not seen it in many a year.”

“Made up part of a dragon’s bed for far too long, now rectified.” Thorin frowned, even as he fingered the blood-red ruby set elaborately in a heavy necklace. In accordance with what he and Fili had spoken of, he was not dripping with the jewels and gold of Erebor. But his own crown was mithril, though the design deceptively simple. And his rings were engraved with the names of past kings. Around his neck was the famous stone that Galadriel had named. Perhaps it was a lot of jewelry to Elves and Men, but for Dwarves he was positively under-adorned.

Lorien’s Lady smiled at him, as if she could see his thoughts. The likelihood of which always made him feel uneasy in his own skin. He fought not to flinch or pull away from her. “You look every inch the king you were born to be.” Galadriel said quietly, nothing within the music of her voice but the purity of truth.

Thorin couldn’t help the frisson of pleasure her words brought him, though he did not need nor want her approval. So he merely nodded his head very a bit uneasily in her direction.

The Lady of Lorien next turned the warmth of her smile on the son of her daughter’s son. “Kuilaith.” She acknowledged him in his green silk and satin shirt over which he wore a fine leather vest stitched in silver and gold thread. “You look quite fine.”

Kili grinned widely, not hiding his pleasure in the compliment. Thorin and Fili were better at cloaking their emotions than he was. He ran a hand down the buttery soft leather of his vest.

Thorin glanced over at his younger sister-son, then did a double take. The archer was wearing the golden diadem that his elvish father had gifted to him. How had he missed that detail before? A sudden hard lump centered in his throat and the king coughed harshly.

Several looked to him in concern, but the king waved them off irritably. When he finally straightened, he had already decided to say nothing about the golden circlet adorning Kili’s head. For what could he say? Take off a generous gift meaning love and protection? “Where are the ruby and sapphire set clasps I sent for your hair?”

“Was coughing too much to put the braids in straight.” Kili sighed, though still smiling as he held up a hand cupping the clasps meant to show the world he was of the royal line.

Thorin and Galadriel both frowned instantly, noted the reaction of each other, and smoothed their expressions immediately. Both feeling odd to be in accord over something.

Fili snorted. “Excuses. He NEVER gets his braids in straight.”

Thorin chuffed out a rueful laugh, shaking his head. “So true.”

“I wouldn’t mind helping.” Elladan and his twin moved up behind Dwalin as they joined the others. Elrohir pulled the line of his richly embroidered robe straight with a twitch of his fingers.

The king shook his head, trying not to sound petty as he responded. “No. Kili’s braids today need to reflect bloodlines, heritage, and royal descent. Very specific.”

Elladan’s eyebrows shot up on the word ‘bloodlines’, but did not argue. Not now, not today. For receiving foreign dwarves it might not be a good thing to stress his son’s elvish blood.

Balin gestured for Kili to sit and held out a hand demandingly. The youth poured the jeweled clasps into the white-haired dwarf’s hand with relief as the older male began to section out hair for the traditional braids.

“Well then.” Elladan looked around cautiously. “I do not know if it would be a good thing, or a bad thing, for we elves to be present for this group’s arrival.”

“We stay.” Galadriel said quietly, while simultaneously Thorin grunted. “Stay.”

Both leaders again looked at each other before the dwarven king let his eyes slide away. He cleared his throat. “It would be good for the Blacklocks to see that Erebor has ….” What? Allies? Friends? Family? None of the words were quite right.

“Connections.” Galadriel supplied, to Thorin’s uneasy relief. The dwarven ruler sighed as he turned to look at the leaders from Lothlorien. The witchy female was brushing a small piece of lint from her husband’s fine pale blue robes with a frown. Her smile a bit muted as she traced the embroidered outline of stylized trees. “I thought you were going to wear the darker blue robes that I made for you?”

Lord Celeborn simply looked at her and Thorin did wonder briefly why he looked so cautious during this quite normal married-couple conversation. “I am much afraid that although I thought I had brought that clothing with me, I could not find it in my packs.”

Galadriel frowned quite slightly. Thorin started to turn away and spied Dori. Blushing hard and biting his lip. Fili turned his back toward the elvish couple. And ….was Lady Arwen looking up at the ceiling?

o.o.o.o.o  
o.o.o.o.o

Balin mentally checked off items in his head as he peered anxiously around the receiving hall. All of the debris from either the dragon, or Thorin’s attempts to block off Erebor from invading armies had been removed. Then there was dust. Dust. The ever-present problem of dwarven city-mines. Still, the Lonely Mountain had not yet begun to mine again. The myriad of tunnels and mining pits were still being shored up and inspected. 

In King Thror’s time there had been clever dwarven inventions to filter the air properly using charcoal. But those were badly in need of repair and while essential, lower on the priority list than getting the mines up and running again.

Balin sniffed the hair, cautiously pleased to scent only cleaning products. Everything gleamed. Still, he could see the gaps in the inlays of silver and gold that had yet to be repaired, though he had to squint to do so.

“Stop worrying.” Dwalin stopped his pacing in front of his brother, his bald head shining under the lights. His tattoos clearly evident and as vibrant today as they had been when first inked.

Balin straightened his spine proudly, looking up at his taller sibling. “Worrying is my job.”

Dwalin held out one arm and swept it around the area as if inviting his brother to look deeper. “Anyone who doesn’t realize we’re clearing out nearly 200 years of dragon shit from our home doesn’t deserve to be our guests.”

Balin snorted and waved one hand fussily at the warrior. “Language.”

“It’s called shit. What other word would you have me use?” Dwalin’s eyes widened as he teased his sibling. “Excrement? That’s too polite for what Smaug did to Erebor. It’s shit. He shit in here. And what he did to the walls, the furniture, the hangings, the fixtures, the inventions, the mines, and our people …it’s all damned shit.”

Balin blinked heavily and eyed the set tension in his brother’s jaw. It was a startling realization. “You’re more worried than I am.”

“The Blacklocks are not our friends.” Dwalin slid his eyes furtively over at the royal family. “Perhaps not the threat that a dragon, the elves, the goblins, the wargs and all that …but a threat no less.”

“Gloin has things well in hand.” Balin said carefully.

Dwalin’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the ginger merchant. “Gloin?” It was an invitation to explain.

Balin shook his head. “Not yet. Not unless necessary.”

The taller warrior grunted, then nodded carefully. He knew all too well that some plans needed to remain hidden until the time was right. He just didn’t have to like it. Dwalin jerked his chin lightly in the direction of the Iron Hills dwarrow lining the walls in their armored best. “A big show. You don’t think it will be enough to cow our brethren?”

Balin too ran his eyes appreciatively over the gathered warriors from Dain’s army. “Impressive. But the Blacklocks have ever been more subtle adversaries. Playing at being friends. We will see.”

Beside him, Dwalin stiffened, his attention caught. Balin turned to look at the dim hallway, but his angle was wrong and few dwarrow blocked his view. “Speaking of seeing.” The taller of the two brothers smiled grimly, then frowned. He sighed. “I still can’t decide if this is a good or a bad thing for the lad.”

Lad? Balin immediately knew who was being discussed. He just didn’t know the reason. Kili. “What now?”

Dwalin glanced behind him and saw his king gesturing for him at attend. He made a face even as he nodded solemnly. “I’m called. Go see what’s going on.”

Balin watched his brother move toward the dais and the royal trio, probably to talk about the Blacklock’s visit too. When he was sure that no one was watching him, he ducked out toward the hallway that Dwalin had indicated.

Somehow it was not shocking to find Nori smiling happily at him, standing next to the thinner and taller she-elf that had caught Kili’s heart and eye.

“What?” Balin stared at his fellow Company member. “I thought you were looking into Gagnar’s death?”

“Am.” Nori acknowledged with a bow of his head. “Can do more than one thing at a time.” He turned deliberately to stare up at Tauriel.

Balin’s eyes automatically followed Nori’s gaze and then he stopped breathing for a moment. “ _Nashatal?_ ”

There was that word again. Tauriel’s green eyes narrowed with speculation. “Explain.”

Balin startled heavily, his eyes going round. “You don’t even know?” He shot Nori an accusatory look.

The ginger-bearded dwarf shrugged. “It means you are wanting to be courted. By a certain dwarrow.”

Not trusting that answer wholly, Tauriel turned her eyes onto the white-haired royal advisor.

Balin winced, but nodded. “True enough.” He peered up at her again, shaking his head in wonder. 

“Her braids are lonely though.” Nori pointed out suggestively.

“What?” Balin tensed up, looking at Tauriel’s other side, where she had no beads hanging near her face. “Well, that just means ….”

Nori coughed and shrugged, interrupting. “Can’t be expecting any dwarven beads or braids from her side of the family.”

Tauriel stiffened, finally cluing in on what was being discussed. “My family died before either of you were born, good dwarves.”

Balin’s heart nearly melted at the cautious tone of her voice, meant to conceal pain. It would have worked if he didn’t have that same tone in his voice whenever anyone asked him about his deceased wife. Dwarves had a reputation in Arda. Cold, greedy and without deep emotions. Only greedy was up for debate. Balin sighed, feeling sad and yet hopeful.

He reached for his own braids, only to stop as Nori shook his head. “What? Why not?” Balin protested.

Nori grinned. “You’re kin to the lad.”

Balin stilled, his fingers falling from his hair as he frowned sharply. “True enough.” He allowed. “You?”

Nori shook his head. “No. Tenuous connection, but I’m related by blood if not by title.” The ginger-haired dwarrow said with no bitterness in his voice. “Distantly related could still be called into question.”

Turning thoughtful, Balin looked behind him at the receiving hall, bright with lights and people chatting. “Bofur, Bombur, or Bifur?”

There was no discussion that it should be someone from Thorin’s Company.

Nori shrugged, but nodded gamely. “Or how about the elves?”

Tauriel looked back and forth between the two. “What is being decided? What is the question?”

Balin frowned sharply as he considered all the elves present, then shook his head firmly. “No. It has to be dwarrow. If you’re sure of this matter …”

“I am.” Nori avowed, then blinked as Tauriel stepped away from him. “She is too.”

“She is too …what?” Tauriel felt about ready to panic. Not from physical danger, but that she still wasn’t entirely sure what was expected of her. She wasn’t one to put herself forward, except in dangerous situations. Not emotional ones. 

“Do you want Kili?” Balin asked very directly.

Tauriel stopped breathing, her eyes wide with distress. “That is …why does every dwarf keep asking me that today? What has changed that suddenly all decisions have to be made right now?”

Nori chuckled ruefully. “Several reasons. Layers of reasons. But here, focus on this. Do you want dwarrowdams dancing around Kili and trying to entice him?”

“No.” The word slipped out unedited from her mouth. The she-elf winced. “But I will not stand in his way if he is interested in meeting dwarrowdams.” The words tasted vile in her mouth, but she did mean them. Stoically she straightened her shoulders.

Balin’s eyes traced her expression and his smile turned tender. “Ah lass.”

Nori grinned. “Now. Dwarrowdams will be interested in Kili. That’s all there is to that. Even if he lets it be known he’s part-elf and that he is considering removing himself from the succession, he is STILL the king’s sister-son and the heir’s brother.”

“Remove himself ….” Tauriel’s eyes went wide with shock. “He never said ….”

“Focus.” Snapped Nori, with his voice and even with his fingers, right in front of her nose.

Startled, Tauriel flinched slightly. “I did not ask Kili to take any such measures. Not that I want him to rule.”

“We know, we know.” Balin waved off her concerns.

Nori looked up at her quite seriously. “Now. To winnow out the gold-digging dams, we’re letting it be known that Kili has an interest in courting you. That’s all. What needs to be decided, is which dwarf stands for you.”

“Stands for me?” Tauriel blinked. Nori’s explanation needed an explanation. Or at least some reference points. “I don’t know what that means.” She looked over at Balin, but the white-haired dwarf was standing at the mouth of the hallway gesturing someone over to them. “Who?”

Nori scratched his head absently as he took her question quite literally. “The only three not related to Kili by some blood, no matter how distant, are the brothers Bofur and Bombur. Neither are a bad choice, but on short notice neither has what we need. So my guess would be their cousin Bifur.”

Tauriel looked over at Balin again, her eyebrows rising as Balin walked back toward them. Bifur following closely behind. The she-elf eyed the rather raggedly coiffed dwarrow with the kind eyes. He smiled at her and made a gesture with his hands. She was immediately reminded of her guess that Khuzdul had a component that was gestural, rather than vocal.

Nori shook his head at the dwarf now joining them. “Bombur wears no beads and Bofur has been called back down into the mines. Work.”

Bifur nodded and pointed at Tauriel’s new braids with their pretty beads. He grinned happily and nodded in approval.

Balin seemed pleased and clapped the other male on the shoulder. “But her new braids are lonely.”

Bifur paused and gestured for Tauriel to turn her head. Not sure why, the red-head complied, though her green eyes stayed glued to the warrior. He frowned at the unbraided side of her face.

His fingers went to his rather unkempt hair, lifting the mass to find small braids in there. Braids with beads.

Tauriel looked between all three male dwarrow. “Just what are you all planning on doing to me?”

Nori winked at her. “Putting the dwarrowdams on notice. That’s all.”

o.o.o.o.o  
o.o.o.o.o

“Where did Balin get to?” King Thorin looked around for his advisor, but didn’t see him.

Fili too glanced over the area. He shrugged as his younger brother brought out a thick roll of leather, unfurling it on the table. Metal gleamed prettily.

“More jewelry?” Lady Arwen asked, leaning closer to look.

Glorfindel chuckled and shook his head. “Something more prosaic, I believe.”

Kili didn’t smile, though mirth danced through the depths of his dark eyes. He handed each dagger carefully over to his golden-haired brother.

The elves watched as the crown prince began arming himself. A blade here, a dagger there. Lord Celeborn’s eyebrows rose in respect as each sharp instrument found a place with cleverly selected sheaths the thick leather coat he wore.

“Nice.” Glorfindel praised in approval. “Prepared for battle?”

Fili looked up a bit startled. “No. These are just my everyday blades.”

Kili nodded in agreement. “In battle? He fairly jangles.”

Galadriel turned her eyes on Fili and smiled in consideration. “Preparation is usually the key to all good outcomes.”

The crown prince grinned easily.

“And that shade of blue suits you admirably, it shimmers almost purple.” Galadriel continued softly. “I made my husband a robe from a similar material. Perhaps it is good he left it back in Lothlorien so that the two of you don’t match.”

Fili’s face pinked as he looked everywhere but back at the Lady of Light. Dori coughed and turned away a bit abruptly. Arwen suddenly found interest in her slippers.

Galadriel stilled, her attention caught. Why were they suddenly so nervous? The Lady turned her gaze back on the three of Durin’s Line.

Handsome. For dwarves. Well, to be honest, they each had a favored look and a masculinity that was pleasing enough. Not beautiful, not to her too-elvish eyes. But she could see how fine they appeared for their race. Even Kuilaith, with his mixed-blood, was quite the sight. And the color of his new shirt suited him. Her eyes moved on to Fili and she caught him nervously straightening one side of his mustache with his fingers, the light making the embroidery on the cuff of his sleeve catch her notice.

Little leaves and flowers in an understated and subtle design. Completely elvish rather than dwarvish, who tended to use bolder and more geometrical designs. Yet, such work was not the effort of but a single afternoon. Had Arwen made her needle work so fast? Surely not, though it looked like her work.

Galadriel caught her breath, staring. Purplish-blue silk with embroidery that looked very familiar. Her eyes moved over to her daughter’s daughter, who was looking everywhere and smiling. Everywhere, but at her. “Lady Arwen?”

Beside her, Celeborn heard the tone of her voice tighten with something and he looked over at his wife curiously. He glanced at all the dwarves surrounding them, but could see nothing that would be considered out of place.

“Oh dearest mother of my mother, she whose eyes light up my soul with joy?” Arwen laid it on thick, her voice dripping with sweetness. “What would you have of me? For my heart beats for your heart and my hands are ready for any task you request.”

Celeborn’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and instant suspicion. Even Glorfindel paused and turned to look in their direction.

Galadriel sighed, then took in a deep breath. As if for patience. “Is that my husband’s robe?” She did not make any gestures.

Taken by surprise, Celeborn’s eyes scanned the room and then he realized that he’d seen the blue silk of Prince Fili’s shirt before. His mouth twitched almost unperceptively. Glorfindel just looked confused. While the some of the dwarves did not look up at all, showing that they at least knew what was going on.

“He looks splendid in that color, it suits him so well.” Arwen smiled brighter. Fili stifled a sound, turning it into a sharp cough. Which turned into a real pain as his healing chest protested.

Thorin, alone of the dwarves, did not seem to have an inkling of what was wrong. He peered at first one female elf and then the other. Wisely, he chose not to say anything. Not until he knew just what was going on with everyone.

Galadriel stared at the daughter of her beloved daughter, tilting her head slightly. “It should. Both of them having lighter colored hair. It looked splendid on my husband as well.”

Arwen’s smile did not dim in the face of her grandmother’s rebuke. “But Lord Celeborn is not in need of finding a wife, and the Crown Prince of Erebor is in such a need. Does he not look fine?”

Prince Fili bit his lip to keep from grinning at Arwen’s audacity, but he didn’t dare raise his eyes. He might start laughing and that would do no one any good. And it would hurt.

Thorin looked between everyone and then over at Lord Celeborn. “Did something happen?”

“My mother’s father donated one of his fine robes for the raw materials needed to polish up the crown prince.” Arwen explained quite sweetly.

“Donated?” Thorin asked, puzzled. The last person in Arda that he would suspect in wanting to help out a dwarf in need would be Lord Celeborn. Okay, maybe that was harsh. The last would be Thranduil. Then Celeborn right before him. The king Under the Mountain sighed and wondered if Legolas would be listed before or after the leader from Lothlorien.

Kili grinned suddenly, his eyes gleaming. “Liberated?”

Fili’s grin matched that of his sibling. “Rescued?”

“Abducted perhaps.” Kili continued unrepentant.

Elladan and Elrohir shared a look between them. Neither twin spoke up.

Fili shook his head, making a face as he did so. “What is that word that Men use? When someone is forced into service?”

“Slavery?” Kili shrugged, only to have Fili shake his head negatively. Suddenly the young prince grinned. “Pressed! It was pressed into service!”

“If you two are QUITE done!” Roared Thorin, now completely irate. He turned his eyes balefully onto the pretty elf-maid. “I thank you for your service and efforts today, but Erebor has no need to steal materials. We will recompense Lord Celeborn for his clothing.”

Arwen smiled softly at the king. “My mother’s parents have always lived lives of service. Service to their people and those who depend on them. They serve on the White Council and have stood against the personification of evil and all his minions. They have sacrificed much between them to this end. What is a robe to that?”

Everyone fell silent.

Fili stared at his brother’s aunt with disbelief. She was comparing a robe to …well, what exactly?

Kili gave in first. “I have no clue what you’re talking about now.” He seemed baffled.

Galadriel looked over at the only female descended from her bloodline. “What is a robe to that? Nothing. It has no bearing on history or battles.”

Celeborn put his hand on his wife’s arm, stilling her words. “Dearest heart and song of my soul. Be at peace.”

Galadriel fell silent and looked at her husband, a male she’d never fallen out of love with, no matter how many millennia had passed since their meeting.

The silver-haired elf-lord smiled. “Erebor is a key in the battle against Mordor. The Mountain has to hold. The strength of the kingdom derives from the strength of the king. Fili is the crown prince. It is indeed imperative that he marry well. Sooner rather than later.”

Fili straightened up, hearing those words. While he wanted to fall in love, marry, and have a large family he did not like hearing that it was his duty. He did want the ‘fall in love’ part of the equation first and foremost. “Uhm ….”

Galadriel looked at her husband and then over at the daughter of her daughter. She took a deep, steadying breath. “I smell something foul.”

Thorin started forward, only to stop as the elf witch leveled a look upon him. She smiled, though not gently this time. “I find no fault in the dwarves on this issue.”

Arwen’s smile brightened in intensity, though the skin around her eyes tightened.

Fili stepped in front of her without thought. Kili glanced at his brother curiously, but followed without a word.

Galadriel blinked in face of the unexpected move of the two young dwarven princes. Beside her, Celeborn’s attention increased as he too turned to watch. The Lady of Light let warmth and approval seep into her expression as she laughed gently. “I was not going to hurt Arwen.”

“It’s my shirt.” Fili said, suddenly embarrassed that he had probably overreacted. 

Arwen stepped up from behind the duo to between them, slipping her arms underneath theirs. Her smile was bright and full of fun. She bent and pressed one side of her face to Fili’s fur lined shoulder. Feeling something hard, her expression darkened with thought before she laughed and jerked back upright. “Dagger! I forgot you hid one there. If you’re serious about courting a wife you’ll need to be a bit less armed.”

Kili suddenly grinned. “You’ll have a better chance to ask a wounded and hungry bear not to attack.”

“Any dwarrowdam that wants to hug you, or goodness, snuggle in close will be taking her poor life into danger just by getting too near.” Arwen poked his chest. “Look! There’s another one there!”

“Stop poking him, he’s still wounded.” Dwalin, who recognized a tactic to change the subject, jumped into the fray. “Besides, if poor Fili is to be introduced to the Blacklocks in the hopes of a marriage alliance there is NO way he should go unarmed.”

Galadriel sighed. “Fine.” She looked at her husband, who very clearly did not look upset over the loss of one robe. “Tell me why, Arwen.”

The elf-maid held up several fingers. “The color is perfect, there really was a lack of suitable material, and the robe never fit my mother’s father well.”

Celeborn shut his eyes.

Galadriel pursed her lips slightly, shaking her head. “Never could get the hem to hang right. Perhaps it is for the best.”

Celeborn’s eyes shot open as he stared at his wife. “You knew it didn’t fit right? Why did you insist I wear it so often?”

The Lady shrugged up at him, humor clear in her eyes. “Because you so sweetly would wear it, never saying a word against the poor fit. It always made me happy.” In her mind she added a few words, just for him. _‘Because it let me know just how much you loved me.’_

“Are we done with the drama?” Thorin asked with a bit of an acidic tone. “Is everyone dressed, armed, happy? Good. Our first wave of ‘guests’ will be arriving any minute now and …. Dwalin?” He looked at his long-time friend who was staring off to the side with a gape-jawed expression. For all the world the tattooed warrior looked as if he’d just been run through with a spear. “Dwalin?”

Fili glanced to the side of the room, spying Tauriel next to Bifur, Nori and Balin. He frowned, she looked almost timid. Which was very unlike the she-elf he knew. Then she turned her head and Fili’s breathing stalled.

Thorin frowned as he noticed the braids in Tauriel’s hair. Both sides. He shot an incredulous look at all three dwarrow with the taller elf. Then he sucked in a harsh breath and turned to look at Kili.

Luckily, his sister-son was teasing the Lady Arwen. Fili caught his gaze and the young blond made a grimace, as if asking what to do. Thorin shook his head quickly and authoritatively. No. Absolutely not. Not right now. He turned back to Dwalin, making hand gestures to get the red-headed elf out of sight. Immediately.

“Tauriel? Are you going dwarf on us?” Elladan broke the silence and Thorin winced. It was too much to hope for that Kili wouldn’t look.

The king squinted open one eye and sighed unhappily. Kili was now staring with a startled and delighted expression. “Damn it!”

o.o.o.o.o  
o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel fought the urge to touch her newest braids. Apparently she had to wear Bifur’s beads and she didn’t even know why. Only that he was ‘standing’ for her. At least these new braids she didn’t have to spend hours learning. These weren’t ones that tradition demanded she put in for herself.

Walking in she’d thought she’d be noticed. Of course she did. She was wearing dwarven beads and braids in her long hair. Someone was bound to notice.

But first Dwalin, then King Thorin, were staring at her in such a way that she felt like a prey animal all of a sudden. A mouse before a snake. Deliberately she lifted her chin. She was no mouse, and certainly no one’s prey.

A strangled sound caught her attention and Tauriel turned, her jewel-bright eyes widening in alarm as Kili went airborne.

Her dwarven prince wasn’t smiling or laughing as she’d pictured him. He wasn’t reacting as she’d thought. No. Kili jumped from the dais and landed solidly on both feet with a loud ‘thud’, running forward before she could draw a breath.

Balin chuckled as he and Nori stepped back. Bifur stood his ground next to her. On her left, right next to the new braids he’d put in her hair himself.

 _“Nashatal.”_ Whatever the word might mean in Khuzdul, it was spreading through the gathered dwarrow crowd like a wild fire.

“Kili! Not yet!” Thorin yelled, striding forward.

But her dark-haired love wouldn’t be stopped. In fact he was moving too fast to stop. He was going to crash into her. Tauriel’s mouth opened, but then she saw Kili drop to his knees and slide all the rest of the way to land at her feet.

He was standing again before she finished inhaling her breath.

A spate of indecipherable Khuzdul poured from Kili’s lips as he reached for the beads on the right side of her head. The ones that Ker had been having her work with.

Bifur said something harsh and his blade was suddenly between Tauriel and Kili.

Kili backed up with a wounded look, though the blade never touched him. He glared at Bifur as Thorin walked up to join them.

The king looked at Tauriel and shook his head in disbelief. “Who taught you to put those in your hair?”

The red-headed elf closed her mouth sharply and shook her head.

“Balin? Nori? Bifur?”

“No.” Tauriel said quietly, lifting her chin and looking down her nose at the shorter dwarf. King or no, she wasn’t telling tales.

“Me and mine.” Ker stepped forward from the group of Iron Hills warriors.

Thorin’s eyes nearly bulged as he realized who had spoken. Of all the dwarves in the world, these were the ones to do such a thing? “You’ve made her _nashatal?”_

“She IS _nashatal_.” Ker scratched his ginger beard thoughtfully. “We simply taught her to put the beads in. The meaning is all hers.”

Thorin’s mind raced. This meant that the she-elf had won the approval of a goodly portion of Dain’s warriors. No small feat. From the looks of her beads, she had Bifur and probably his family as well. Balin and Nori stood beside her. He turned to look at Dwalin, his most stalwart supporter.

But the tattooed warrior shrugged. He didn’t know what to do either. Though, to be honest and truthful, the fact that Dwalin wasn’t protesting was a bit like approval.

Thorin sighed. They had Blacklocks coming in. There wasn’t time to hash this all out. And this wasn’t exactly permanent. “Go ahead.”

Kili’s face blossomed into a huge grin and Thorin found himself hugged so tightly his ribs creaked. “Damn it, lad! Get on with it! We have guests to get to.”

The young prince turned back to Tauriel and he looked at Bifur. A few words in Khuzdul and the older warrior’s blade dropped. Kili then hesitated and finally smiled up at his love. “ _Nashatal_. It means you are actively asking to be courted. That you would welcome the chance to see who might be a worthy husband.”

“Oh.” Tauriel’s head gave a jerky nod. She’d thought it might be something along those lines, but it was good to get a straight answer. Finally.

“I would like to court you.”

Elladan started to move forward to protest that his son was too young. Fili moved in front of him, shaking his head. But it was also his twin brother’s hand on his shoulder that stopped him. 

“This looks to be about the same level of courtship as the telling of the Elenlote poem.” Elrohir said calmly. He looked at Fili. “This is not a binding contract or promise of marriage?”

The golden-haired and crowned young dwarf shook his head. “Beginning steps.” Then he grinned. “But pretty serious. It declares interest before all, especially family.”

They all looked to where Kili was tugging at some of his braids, pulling out the jeweled beads a bit roughly.

Fili didn’t make the elves ask. “Bifur is standing in for Tauriel’s family. Those are his beads on the other side. It means that if things go wrong, he will be her champion.”

“She doesn’t need one.” Glorfindel laughed effortlessly.

“No.” Fili agreed. “Nor do a lot of dwarrowdams. It’s just tradition.”

“Why Bifur, why not Balin?” Lord Celeborn asked curiously.

“Blood ties.” Fili shrugged. “Bifur isn’t related to us by blood. Balin is.”

Kili finally got his hair clasps freed and now he hesitated. He looked up at Tauriel. “Are you sure you would have me?”

“Do you really have to ask?” She smiled sweetly at him, her eyes suspiciously bright.

Nori cleared his throat. “Actually, he DOES have to ask. Literally. It’s tradition.”

“More than tradition, it might be law.” Balin said thoughtfully. “It’s supposed to be asked in Khuzdul, but since the bride doesn’t know our language I think it will suffice that he asked in the Common tongue.”

“What do I respond then?” Tauriel asked nervously.

Balin leaned in conspiratorially, although every one standing with them could hear perfectly well. “Give him one of your beads.”

“But I just got them in, it took me hours to learn!” The she-elf protested even though her fingers were already moving to remove the bottom bead. 

“Just one.”

“I want them all.” Kili grinned widely, but without a hint of give in his voice.

Thorin thumped his sister-son in the back of the head and sighed deeply. “One at a time, lad.”

Tauriel stopped at one, not wanting to push her luck with dwarven tradition. This earned her approving looks from Balin, Bifur, Nori and Dwalin who had joined the others.

Balin gestured at her and she moved to give Kili the single bead. He pressed his jeweled clasp into her hand. Then the dark-eyed prince made short work of weaving it into his braids.

Then every eye turned to Tauriel, whose cheeks pinked up prettily. She stared at the clasp.

Thorin turned his head slightly to one side. “Is something wrong that you won’t wear his clasp?”

The she-elf sighed almost piteously. “I only learned how to put the beads in the braid. I have no clue how to work the clasp in properly.”

The dwarves all chuckled and Bifur crooked his finger at her and gratefully she moved to allow him to work the clasp in quickly. In no time he was done. “I thought I had to do them myself. Tradition and all.”

“You did.” Nori assured her quickly. “But Bifur stands as your family in any contracts for courting. He’s allowed to help now that you already did the hard part.”

“Good.” The red-head smiled. “Now what?” 

All the dwarves fell silent. Then more than a few of them turned to look at the elves still standing next to the royal dais. “Uhm.” Balin hesitated.

Kili didn’t. He grinned. “Dwarven and Elvish traditions are not the same. Can we agree that this is a dwarven thing we’re doing right here and now?”

Suddenly nervous, Tauriel licked her dry lips and nodded. Why did Kili look like he was up to something?

“So. This means what the dwarves mean, not how the elves would normally take it?”

Over by the dias, Elladan reacted to his son’s tone of voice. “He’s planning something.” 

Fili laughed. “Oh, you can count on it.”

Before anyone else could react, Kili swept Tauriel into his arms and moved her to a nearby bench. He pushed her until she was seated and then he captured her face between his hands. “Think dwarven thoughts.” He teased.

And that’s when Tauriel received her very first kiss. The first Kili had ever gifted.

Neither were too sure of how to go about kissing, but Kili had at least the benefit of being around humans, guard caravans, and listening in on older dwarrow around hunting camps.

It was both awkward and sweet. Heated, but not forceful. His lips moved over hers, seeking. She gasped and he took advantage, deepening the kiss as he held her face still for him to press his suit.

Elladan went white while Elrohir struggled not to laugh. Arwen looked like she wanted to melt into a sticky pool of happy goo. Galadriel was smiling and Celeborn merely blinked, though he made no protest.

It was at that moment that the doors to the receiving hall were thrown open by the guards and the first of their ‘guests' came pouring into the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to have made you wait for the chapter. Hope you enjoy!


	28. In which much is uncovered

Nothing embarrassed Thorin Oakenshield. He could be frustrated, surprised, shocked, sad, happy and had proven to one and all that he could even go mad. And return. But not once since the desolation brought about by a dragon had he allowed himself to be embarrassed.

Others thinking he was too ragged looking to be royal? Bah. Others underestimating his strength or resolve? It mattered not, and they often ended up eating their words.

Pride he had more than enough of within him. Even at his lowest, his pride had only grown. He'd been dirt poor, hungry, needing to bend his back to hard work or his knee to plea for scraps from human merchants in order to make sure his people did not starve. Especially in those first few years of exile.

But embarrassment was a luxury he could not afford, not then and not now. His way? Never accept what was before him, always strive for more, for better. For his people first, then his family, and lastly for himself.

So the fact that the Blacklock delegation arrived as his sister's-son was in the middle of courting and kissing a she-elf? Not something he would have wanted to show them. But he wasn't going to be caught like a dwarfling stealing pies from his dam's kitchen.

Thorin straightened his back and turned to watch the new arrivals. He did not know who the Blacklocks would have sent to represent their family, but was not surprised to see Himlis Blacklock come striding through the front doors of Erebor. Disappointed, but not surprised.

Nearly as tall as Thorin and burly through the chest, the warrior arrived grinning from ear to ear. His white teeth gleaming through the fullness of his dark brown beard. Two rows of emeralds no doubt once mined from Erebor's depths, graced the middle of the braids that framed his chin and travelled nearly to his belt.

He was the best warrior the Blacklocks had. And his presence changed everything.

"Well met, cousin! Well met!" Himlis threw wide his arms, his heavy cloak trailing behind him like wings on a particularly ugly and bearded bat. With emeralds. Thorin snorted at the mental image.

"Cousin?" He asked, making no movement forward. "Has there been a marriage between our families that I am of yet not aware? For we share no blood."

Himlis' smile never dimmed, nor did his approach slow. "We are all dwarves of the same Maker, are we not? And future alliances can be gainful for both."

Thorin turned fully toward the newcomer as his Company moved up beside him, sensing his tension.

Himlis finally slowed as he neared their group, the rest of the newcomers trailing behind the colorful and powerful warrior with his large battle axe strapped across his back. Thorin took note of who was arriving, though his attention didn't waver from the large dwarf before him.

When the king did not speak, Himlis looked around the hall with great interest. "Clean up has begun?"

Thorin nodded his head regally, but did not speak.

"And alliances made with Elves. I see them gathered behind you." Himlis continued, even as Gresol Blacklock finally caught up with him. This dwarrow was pinched looking, with eyes set too closely together and lines in his face making him look old before his time. He was slighter of stature and carried a single sword, not the great axe of the Blacklock warrior.

At first glance, one might consider Himlis the greater threat. One would be wrong. And Thorin knew it.

Himlis, still receiving no answer, continued as if nothing were awkward between them. "So! Did the damned dragon leave you anything good? Or have you traded it all to the elves for a bit of protection?"

No one from Erebor or the Iron Hills reacted, showing the dour and expressionless faces that dwarves were known for across Arda. Thorin did not agree nor disagree with Himlis' assumption of an elven alliance.

"I see warriors of the Iron Hills, but not their commander." Himlis leaned forward with a sudden frown that did not match the light in his gray-green eyes. "Dain is well I am hoping?"

Thorin fought not to sneer. Knowing full well that there was no love lost between Himlis and Dain, and any hope the warrior had was not for wellbeing. "More than well." He said vaguely.

Not getting any responses such as he was looking for, Himlis drew back up and smiled again. "Good! Grand!"

Dwalin stirred from his place next to the king. "We were told you have wounded?"

Himlis startled then shrugged, it was Gresol who answered in a nasally voice which was due to an unfortunately poor setting of a broken nose in years gone by. "Some, yes. Thank you. Mostly the wounded were from immigrants returning to Erebor."

"You know the kind, Thorin. Those cowards who would come back now that the true warriors have freed the home." Himlis chuckled.

Thorin stiffened at the dismissive tone. "You speak of Longbeards?"

Dwalin growled.

Himlis hesitated, realizing too late that he might have misspoken. "The only true Longbeards are those that chose to follow you to the Mountain. Cousin." His tone turned placating.

"I have my cousins with me." Thorin gestured with contained grace toward those standing with him. Dwalin grinned fiercely while the others nodded their heads very slightly. "So. To your count, there are only thirteen true Longbeards and all others count for naught?"

Himlis turned in a circle, rudely putting his back toward the new King Under the Mountain as he finished his movement. In the end he looked toward Thorin and raised a single brow. "Are you not protecting your home with Dain's warriors and elves? Where are the vaunted Longbeards?" His eyes were widened in an exaggerated display as he indicated all the armored dwarrow surrounding them.

Thorin did not rise to the bait. "How many did you bring?" Gresol made a movement to still Himlis' tongue, for all the good it did him.

The arrogant warrior grinned, unable to remain silent. "I have three hundred and fifty battle toughened dwarrow under my command to gift to you in order to help secure …your …home." He made the offer with a smile and a regal bow.

The king nodded most thoughtfully. "Supplies?"

"Basics, for travel." Himlis shrugged off the question as nothing, missing the point entirely.

Dwalin's jaw clenched. Gresol's eyes blanked for a moment, but he said nothing.

Thorin shook his head. Himlis never had been the brightest of the Blacklocks. He had no clue what information he'd just gifted them with. "Well. I must apologize for our mean welcome."

Himlis paused, listening. Still grinning.

"Your warriors will need those supplies, for all our space is taken up by Dain's dwarrow. They will need to set up camp outside the walls. Make sure to mount adequate guards. We've had recent …troubles." Thorin started to turn away, as if dismissing them.

Himlis' grin finally slipped halfway. "Outside? Surely my people can assist in clearing out enough space. In the old days Erebor was large enough to house us all and more besides."

"In the old days." Thorin agreed without further elaboration.

The grin disappeared. Himlis shifted his weight slightly. "Our wounded?"

Thorin grunted, quickly considering his options. "Our sick halls are empty, but well stocked and supplied. They will find succor here." He paused most deliberately. "And the Longbeard wounded as well."

Balin's ears perked up at the mention of the sick halls being empty. He knew a cue when he heard one. "I will alert the healers." The advisor bowed to Thorin and backed away.

Thorin relaxed slightly. He knew that Balin had caught on. By the time the wounded arrived in the sick halls, there would be no sign of either prince having spent a single moment there. Fili and Kili would be quietly moved, probably back to their own rooms. It might stretch the healing staff. But he'd allow none of the Blacklocks near his sister-sons. Not now.

Gresol made a throat clearing sound, sliding a quick look to his side at his nephew. "Himlis, make the camp. Thorin. Perhaps a quick, and private walk?" He invited, trying to look open and sincere.

Thorin Oakenshield drew up, his eyebrows rising. "I have been called this day by my proper name for which familiarity I have not given allowance, familial ties which do not exist, and been offered an invitation of a private chat."

Gresol hesitated, as if waiting in anticipation.

Himlis looked confused. "I know your name, well enough. Cousin."

Thorin shook his head, his dark-blue eyes flashing with temper. "No, apparently you don't. I am King Thorin II, King Under the Mountain, son of Thrain and heir to the throne of King Thror, Ruler of Erebor and the Lonely Mountain, End of the Line of Durin. I wear the crown and the Eye of Durin."

Himilis hissed and stepped back as Thorin stepped forward.

"I am not now, nor have ever been your ….cousin."

"Thorin …" Himlis pleaded with faked humility, for there wasn't a humble bone in his body.

"King Thorin." Dwalin snapped angrily. "Have you no ears to hear?"

"We come offering help and assistance and this is how you treat us?" Himlis continued, while Gresol simply listened.

"Help? Assistance?" Thorin roared while the entire hall fell silent. "You arrive with over three hundred battle toughened warriors in such a timely manner that you would have had to have left your home lands BEFORE our battle here was done."

Gloin spoke up into the silence that fell over the group. "If memory serves, which it does, then you and yours refused any aid on our endeavor. No word came to us that you had changed your mind and were coming to …assist. So. Why march after the deeds are done? Timed to get here before we have a chance to make ready our home for visitors?"

"Because they didn't come to be …visitors." Thorin bit off the last word with true venom.

Dwalin sneered. "Did you think that if we failed you could possibly take the dragon if we'd weakened him? Or that if we'd succeeded there would only be thirteen of us to face the three hundred and fifty of you?"

Thorin nodded grimly. "Did you think to measure my throne for your ass, Himlis? Or his?" He pointed toward Gresol.

The tall warrior clenched his jaw, but didn't answer beyond a glare.

"Mine." Gresol answered coldly. "He wants me away from the clan leadership now that he is the Blacklock leader. His father has gone to the Halls of the Waiting."

Startled at the candid answer, the king blinked twice before responding. "Smart. Smartest move that Himlis could make." Thorin sneered, then bowed his head. "I sorrow to hear of your father's passing. Though it is troublesome that this wasn't news you passed along first. But I find my sympathy is measuring rather short and I do not find it in me to gift you with my father's and grandfather's throne."

Dwalin nodded slowly. "Cagey dwarf, your father." He said to Himlis before turning cold eyes onto Gresol. "And while you would take the throne, he carts the treasure back home?"

The older dwarf bowed his head archly.

"How disappointed you must be to find us hale and whole, and not crunchy and roasted." Thorin said quietly.

"Indeed." Gresol nodded as if to a worthy adversary. "Still. Not all of our eggs are in that particular nest. Himlis' sister is with us and is as yet, unmarried. You were once wanting to meet her if memory serves." His eyes slid coolly over to Gloin. "Which it does."

Thorin grunted. "No. No I wasn't wanting to meet her so much as I was insulted that an introduction wasn't given, despite my bloodlines." The King smiled grimly. "I took it then, and now, that you deemed me unworthy. So if you look to make Himlis' sister bait on a hook, spare yourselves the trouble."

"It would be a good alliance." Gresol said smoothly. He did not state the obvious that Thorin with a treasure and a kingdom was a much better match than Thorin without such.

The King Under the Mountain shook his head. "I have no need to meet her." He then bowed graciously. "But I would welcome her to Erebor as a guest until you and yours return home."

Himlis' ruddy face darkened. "You would not have her inside with all of your dwarrow without Blacklock guards?"

"You trust me to court her, but not to protect her?" Thorin's eyebrows winged up in feigned surprise. "Fine. She can stay in your camp with your guards." He paused, pretending to think. "The camp you haven't begun to set up yet. It does grow late you realize."

Himlis drew back in affront, glaring. Thorin winked at him, unaffected.

Gresol sighed heavily and spread his hands to show them unarmed. "Is this necessary?"

"You rode to take my kingdom and my throne for yourselves? Yes. I do feel that it is." Thorin smiled grimly.

"Fair enough." Gresol returned the king's smile, something predatory within the depths of his dark, beady eyes. "If you do not seek to wed, I happen to know your heirs are as yet unattached."

Himlis made a noise of protest, but fell silent as his uncle shot him a quick glare.

"I would have spoken with you in private, but public won't change the words on my tongue." The older dwarf continued, his voice even and modulated to show graciousness. Making Thorin even more alert.

He felt, rather than saw, both Fili and Kili moved up on either side of him. Supporting their uncle and king. The other members of the Company shifted to make room without comment. It was their place at his side. It soothed his nerves more than a little, especially with Kili so distracted by the bright shiny new bead in his hair. Even with the lovely Tauriel to pull his attention, the lad knew where to take a stand.

Gresol's eyes flicked to one, then the other. If his eyes lingered on Kili for a second it was barely perceptible. "Fine lads." He commented with chilled reserve.

"They are." Thorin agreed, his jaw tight as he waited for whatever the Blacklock had to say.

"Too bad they aren't directly descended from Durin." Himlis's lips stopped barely shy of a sneer.

"Do you call my sister's parentage into question?" Thorin replied in a voice dripping with warning.

"He does not." Gresol sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "My brother's son speaks from a lack of understanding."

"He's an idiot." Dwalin commented.

Himlis growled, but stilled at a movement of his uncle's hand. Gresol's eyes glittered with dark intent as he looked over at the tattooed warrior. "Any other time and I would allow him to duel with you over such an insult. However, considering that we rode to take your throne, today we will let it pass."

"Considering." Fili spoke up, repeating the word as he crossed his arms. "It's the truth. Do either of you question the Lady Dis as a direct descendent of Durin the Deathless?"

"No." Gresol allowed with a small smile that did not reach his eyes.

"They are my heirs, their bloodline is direct." Thorin said very loudly. "And your insults were first given the moment you set foot off of your own lands. Do not forget, you may have three hundred and fifty of your best warriors. But I have with me five hundred of Dain's." He stepped forward menacingly.

"Not to mention the fact that my company of thirteen faced down a dragon. They have no fear of you and yours compared to that." Thorin fairly boasted.

"And you have the elves?" Gresol asked pointedly, his eyes lingering on the small bead in Kili's braids. "You brilliantly traded your younger heir for strength of arms with allies, rather than lose any of your gold and treasure?"

Kili stiffened, but stilled as Gloin put his hand on his shoulder to steady the more reckless lad. His fingers tightened, as if to convey the message to not react yet. Kili took a ragged breath, but did not move or speak.

"You know nothing and shouldn't speak without facts." Thorin said coldly.

Gresol smiled, shaking his head. "So. That isn't a courting bead in the she-elf's hair that I see? And one in your heir's?" He paused for dramatic effect. "I haven't been out living among the humans such as you have, and I recognize her braids and their significance."

Dwalin bared his teeth, but it was Gloin who answered. "What business is it of yours?" He may not be as won over as the rest of the Company on this courtship thing. But by damned he wasn't going to let a Blacklock speak ill of any of theirs.

Gresol shrugged and looked over at the elves, who had not moved since the new dwarves had arrived. "Did you tell the Elves that the true worth of a dwarrow is measured in many ways, but the most important is bloodline?"

Thorin clenched his teeth before attempting an answer, to keep any rash and angry words at bay. Instead it was Lord Celeborn who spoke up first. "We are aware."

"And are you as aware that if you bargain for the king's younger heir, you may not be getting all that you think?" The Blacklock continued with spite in his eyes and voice.

Kili drew in a quick breath and tensed as if to move, but Gloin's hand tightened on his shoulder while Thorin slid his eyes over to meet the youth's pained expression. Kili settled once more, though with obvious reluctance.

Thorin wanted to reassure his sister-son, but didn't wish to speak aloud. He narrowed a glare upon his young prince, a caution to stay calm. He then turned his eyes toward Fili. But the blond didn't look angry, he looked …eager. Thorin nodded, pleased. At least this nephew could see where this was going too. If. If Kili didn't explode first.

"Dwarves put great stock into parentage and singing songs of our ancestors." Gresol said with a widening smile. "The current King Under the Mountain may not have explained certain things to you before you made your …bargain."

Lord Celeborn did not deign to speak again, but it quickly became obvious the dwarf was expecting some sort of answer. It was one of the twins who finally spoke. "Your words play with hints and do not make their meaning known."

Kili relaxed, his breathing easing, much to Thorin's relief. The lad had clearly heard the careful tightness in Elrohir's voice.

"Did they tell you of young Prince Kili's bloodlines?" Gresol said with a sneer over at King Thorin and his Company, as if he was anticipating reluctance from that quarter.

But the dwarvish king had no intention of stopping Gresol's words.

This time it was Elladan who stirred, speaking. "No. Tell me of the prince's bloodline." He invited, no emotion in his voice.

Kili apparently had a new problem, trying not to laugh or smile in anticipation. Thorin slid his eyes toward his nephew and saw the lad literally biting his lip to keep from speaking. His dark eyes moved to his uncle with a mute apology for almost losing control of the moment. Thorin jerked his head in a simple nod.

"Do you really want to know?" Gresol mocked. "It's more than the rest of Arda knows. The Lady Dis has never said who fathered her youngest. He claims bloodline through her and her brother."

Galadriel's silky voice showed no hints of her thoughts on the subject matter at hand. "Her bloodline is admirable."

Fili fixed his eyes on the far wall, to keep from giving away the moment too soon. If he looked at either Blacklock he'd lose it.

The elves said nothing more. They simply stared at Gresol and Himlis with apparent dispassion.

"Perhaps the nashatal would like to reconsider her choice of suitor?" Himlis now spoke, smirking over at the red-headed she-elf.

Tauriel was used to watching high-level events happen around her as she guarded her former-king. Not being part of such things. She held her temper and her tongue, for she sensed undercurrents.

Thorin was pleased with the she-elf's silence.

Gresol smiled greasily over at her. "If they didn't tell you, the exchange of the courtship bead is only the start of the process. You can back out at any time. Unless you wish for him to court you."

Tauriel tilted her head slightly, letting the light catch the beads decorating her flame colored hair. She let the moment drag on for a lengthy pause, then said simply, "yes."

Himlis frowned, unsure if she meant yes to the courtship or yes to the backing out. "You have several ways you could react."

Dwalin nearly choked on a startled laugh and all eyes turned to him. Not perturbed at all, the bald warrior grinned. "The only course of action she is currently contemplating is whether to serve up kidney or liver first."

Fili said dryly. "I like kidney pie."

Balin shook his head, but if anyone expected soothing words from the king's advisor, they would have to live in disappointment. "I prefer my livers sautéed with onion."

Ignoring the talk around them, Thorin suddenly grinned widely. "Glorfindel? I can still set up a meeting for you." He teased, reminding the elf warrior of his desire to possibly woo the Blacklock heiress to have access to their fine wines.

"I humbly withdraw my offer." Came the droll response from the golden-haired hero of old. "If so permitted."

Unsure why things weren't going as he'd intended, Gresol stared at the elves. Who were not responding as he'd thought. "What did the king offer you as allies? Marriage to his heir? The one he gave you is flawed nor the crown prince. He is a no-name bastard of questionable descent who will never sit any dwarven throne! You make an ill bargain!"

The elves all looked at each other, as if communicating silently.

Himlis ground his teeth together audibly. "Stupid elves." He muttered under his breath, clearly not realizing how excellent elven hearing could be.

Dwalin laughed again and rubbed his bald head. "Run." He advised lightly.

Kili laughed, all of his good humor returned.

Both twins straightened, and would have moved forward. They each stopped, although appearing reluctant. As one, they turned and looked toward the parents of their mother.

Surprisingly to Thorin, it was Lord Celeborn and not his golden-haired wife, who stepped forward. The tall, arrogant elf lord moved with grace and surety.

"I am the Lord of Lothlorien, Celeborn of the Golden Wood. Lord of the Galadhrim. Formerly the Lord of Eregion and Prince of Doriath."

It was that last name that had Gresol's eyes finally blinking in some unease. He flicked a look at Thorin, and was not reassured by the nearly smug smile the king was wearing.

"My wife is Galadriel. The Lady of the Golden Wood." He paused most deliberately. "Or perhaps you know her as the Witch of the Wood. To our people though, she is the Lady of Light."

Both Blacklock males sent nervous glances at the lady in question, who never moved.

"Our daughter, Celebrian wed Lord Elrond of Rivendell." The tall silver-haired elf spread his arms to indicate the twins and Lady Arwen. "These are her three children, the light in their eyes sing to our blood as children of our line. Do you doubt me?"

Gresol waited, but no one could outwait an elf. He frowned and finally cleared his throat. "Fine bloodlines. I have no doubt. So all the more important not to ally yourselves to someone whose own bloodlines are hidden from view."

Elladan moved forward next, coming to stand behind Kili. Gloin's hand fell away from the lad's shoulder as he made room for the taller elf lord. "Would not the joining of my bloodline with that of Durin's Line be something to value?"

"It's a trick question, Master Dwarf." A new voice rang through the hall.

All eyes turned to the stately white haired male moving toward them with a stride that made a lie of his aged appearance.

"Saruman." Lord Celeborn acknowledged in greeting, but did not bow. "You travel with …these?"

The head of the wizarding order did not bother to look embarrassed at all, though he denied the charge. "I travelled, they travelled. Our travel happened to be heading to the same place. A fortunate turn of events as our paths crossed with companies of goblins and wargs along the way." His tone of voice dismissed his dwarvish companions as of little consequence. "I have made the wounded as comfortable as I can."

Thorin made a gesture to Oin, who nodded and headed out to see to those wounded.

Gresol held up a hand to stop them, earning himself a glare from his own Blacklock nephew. The older dwarrow dropped his hand and head in mute apology for overstepping himself. Himlis grimaced, but then nodded imperiously.

Oin rolled his eyes and continued outside to see to the wounded.

"You shared your bread and wine with this weary old man." Saruman didn't do humble well, but he made an effort. "So I will do you one final favor. Elladan is of one of the finest Elven bloodlines in Middle Earth. And I was witness to his wedding nearly eight decades ago. To the Lady Dis, Princess of Erebor."

Gresol's eyes closed in resignation as the news sunk in. Himlis actually swayed.

Saruman smiled very slightly. "I was unaware that the Lady Dis had given birth to a son from that marriage, however."

Kili grinned widely and winked at Himlis, who was turning greener by the moment. Elladan's hands moved to rest quietly on his son's shoulders.

"I do not sense Gandalf in residence here." Saruman commented to the leaders of Lothlorien.

Galadriel smiled sadly. "Lord Elrond and Gandalf have both left. We were not expecting you here."

"Morder awake? Of course this is where I would arrive." Saruman protested. "I have …I would speak with the White Council on this matter."

Lord Celeborn bowed his head in friendship. "Of course." He waved a hand at the newly arrived dwarves. "No more of this matter needs to be discussed."

"I do not agree." Elrohir said coldly, his temper still running high.

"Child." Galadriel began.

"No." Elladan interrupted rudely, his hands pressing more firmly onto Kili's shoulders. His eyes pinned Himlis, and then he waited for Gresol to finally look upon him. "Any insult upon Kuilaith, even if you use the name Prince Kili of Erebor, it does not matter ….any insult to him is an insult to I and my bloodline."

"Durin's Line too." Fili interjected loudly.

"We did not know." Gresol said weakly.

Gloin grunted and Balin gave a small smile of consolation. "It appears you did not know much. Such as Erebor still stands and is not as unprotected as you might have thought. That Kili of Durin's Line is also known as Kuilaith of …."

"Rivendell." Elrohir supplied smoothly, as if simply finishing the sentence for the other male.

"He has never laid eyes on Rivendell!" Himlis asserted, pointing a finger at the dark eyed youth now laughing silently at him.

"And I swear to you by Durin's Axe and Blood that he has." Thorin said matter-of-factly. He didn't mention when or that they'd all snuck out, or that none of them had been aware at the time of the relationship between father and son.

Fili grinned. "He even bathed in their giant fountain." Deliberately telling the truth in such a way to mislead.

Elrohir blinked at that one and Elladan's hands tightened on his son's shoulders, but he didn't say anything on the matter. Not yet. Later maybe, without too many interested ears listening in on them. "Tauriel? Do you believe my son's bloodlines to be lacking in any way?"

"No." Came the immediate and measured response from the she-elf, and then she could not seem to stop herself from continuing. "And I while I have never had a love for liver with onions, I would be more than willing to give it another chance."

Her jewel-bright eyes were on the Blacklock males, and her smile was more than a little predatory in nature.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Sealyn Heavyaxe turned her head and spit outwards to clear her mouth of dirty water that had just splashed her in the face. She couldn't use her hands as they were liberally coated with the same muck.

The middle-aged Blacklock warrior dropped his shamed gaze from meeting her clear hazel eyes as he mumbled an apology for 'not looking' as he emptied the small container.

Brunere held her breath as she took in her friend's distressed appearance.

Sealyn held up the clean bandages she'd been preparing, and let them dangle from her now dirty fingers. It was obvious that these strips wouldn't be used to bind any wounds, not unless she wanted them infected rather than healing.

The warrior moved away quickly, leaving the two dwarrowdam with the wounded Grimbasher leader. Brunere's father grimaced, but bit back any oaths he might have uttered if not in the presence of young females.

"That was on purpose!" Brunere hissed.

Sealyn stepped away from the open wounds of the male before trying to clean off her hands. "These are wasted. I need to get some more."

Brorgic Grimbasher winked at his daughter in order to reassure her. Brunere smiled wanly back at him. "I guess Sealyn is more of a threat than I am, since they leave me clean." She tried to make a joke out of it.

"You are a treasure. Mine." The Grimbasher said through gritted teeth. "And both of you young dwarrowdams are a threat to their plans to marry off the Blacklock heiress."

Sealyn found a small container of clean water to rinse off her hands so she could find more bandages without ruining them. "It's a good thing Erelinde is hooded right now. Who knows what these monsters would do to HER if they saw her."

"Yer all lovely." Avowed the proud father as Brunere went back to stitching his wound.

"And yer my da." Mimicked the young Grimbasher daughter with no little smile. She knew her looks were rather on the plain side, not bad but nothing spectacular. Still, she knew her worth and lacked no bit of pride in her bloodlines. "Missed the artery."

"Liar." Her father teased. "That's why I bound it."

"Nicked the artery." Amended his daughter, flicking a worried look up at his face and finding it too pale for her liking. "And you should stay off of it."

Sealyn smiled at her friend, trying to lend support. "Mahal wouldn't take him to the Halls just yet. He'd only make trouble there."

Brunere didn't smile, but did flash a grateful look to her best friend.

A different dwarrow came up to them, this one from their own town and sporting a large lump on his forehead with a swollen eye. "They're letting the wounded into Erebor's healing halls."

The two dwarrowdams shared a relieved look and started getting ready to move their efforts inside.

"Not you two. Hardly wounded are you?"

At the snarly voice of the Blacklock lieutenant, both dwarrowdams turned around in indignation. Temper fair danced in their eyes as they stared at the dwarrow, but he didn't back down.

"Everyone else makes camp out here."

"He's my da!" Protested Brunere, her hands still bloody from the stitchery she'd been working on.

"Not my rules." The Blacklock dwarf shrugged off her words as nothing to him. "I have my orders."

Sealyn curled her lip in disgust. "Blacklock orders or Erebor?" She pushed.

The dwarrow turned away from her rudely. "Orders." He reiterated.

Erelinde, still covered in the over-large cloak and hood her father had pressed on her, hurried up to them. "Blacklock guards are standing down our people around our goods."

Brorgic's dark eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I went to take father some soup and he was arguing with them. They were surrounded."

The Blacklock dwarrow turned back to them. "Don't want Erebor to just take what isn't theirs."

Brorgic swung his legs off the makeshift camp bed they'd set up for him, paling even further at the pain. Still, he was a dwarf. He gritted his teeth and said not a word of discomfort. "Our goods do not belong to the Blacklocks, and you lot have no reason nor right to make any decisions on our behalf."

"We came with those goods FOR Erebor." Protested Sealyn.

"And Erebor appreciates that."

Everyone stiffened as a new dwarrow moved into their conversation. This one was rather tall for a dwarf, with long wavy dark hair thick on his head and only weighted down by a crown worth than one hundred times their trade goods.

Beside him stood the Blacklock leaders and another crowned individual, this one young, blond and handsome. Others unknown to them followed, but none wearing the distinctive colors of the Blacklock family.

"Grimbasher." Greeted the monarch.

"King Thorin." Brorgic struggled to his feet, his balance challenged, but he waved off any offer of assistance from his daughter. He made a passable bow without fainting. "Well met, well met and well done. The songs of your deeds will never cease."

"You called me foolish once." Thorin said coolly. Referring to the male's refusal to heed the call to join his quest.

"More'n once." Brorgic admitted with a flush to his cheeks now. "More the fool was I, and you proved it."

"You are willing to follow me now?"

"It calls my blood cowardly, for joining after the battle is won." Said the Grimbasher, his head still bowed.

Thorin grinned and shook his hand. "Stand Brorgic. It was foolhardy, and nearly lost on several occasions. And the only the first battles are over. All hands and hearts will be needed for the rebuilding, and the defending." He somehow managed not to look at the Blacklocks while speaking of defending Erebor, though he wasn't really sure how.

"Your majesty." Brunere curtsied low, ducking her head. "I beg leave to accompany my father to the healing halls, he is sore wounded. I will return out to the camp as soon as you will it."

Thorin frowned.

The golden-haired blond frowned as well. "All Longbeards have places set aside for them inside."

Brunere and Sealyn shot each other incredulous looks, and then frowned over at the Blacklock guard who'd told them otherwise. "It seems we had poor information."

"Your daughter, Brorgic?"

The Grimbasher beamed and introduced both his daughter and her friend, Sealyn Heavyaxe.

Thorin smiled at Sealyn who felt a mess with dirt, sweat, grime and blood marring her travel tunic and cloak. She just hoped her dark hair wasn't escaping too badly from her braids. "I knew your grandfather, a good dwarf and a fine warrior. He served my father well for many years."

"My father sends his deepest regards and allowed me travel with the Grimbashers as he needed to stay and see to the mines back at home. He sends messages asking if you want them closed or continue working for coal and the like." Sealyn lowered her eyes respectfully.

"You will be safe here." Thorin vowed. Then he frowned. "The dwarrowdam quarters have not been cleaned nor yet repaired, however."

Fili leaned in. "We can set aside suites for families in the royal halls for now. Grimbasher can have one room, and the attached can serve for his daughter and her friend."

Brunere visibly relaxed, relieved at the arrangement as being both proper and respectful. She smiled gratefully at the yet unintroduced male. Though his crown spoke as to whom he might be.

"There is a third." Sealyn started to speak, only to get interrupted.

Himlis disregarded everyone else as he turned toward King Thorin. "My sister should be allowed within the mountain as well. With the proper escorts."

Thorin didn't immediately respond. He clearly did not want to agree, but thousands of years of tradition and cultural conditioning demanded otherwise. "You and two guards of your choosing."

"Gresol as one." Himlis immediately pounced.

The king nodded. He'd expected that, actually. Planned on it.

Himlis spoke quietly with one of his guards and sent the male to fetch his sister. He then winked over at the crown prince. "Keep your hands off now."

Fili stiffened at the implied insult to his self-control. Beside him, Gloin sighed and stepped in quietly. "And you keep your hands off of the Longbeard dams as well."

Himlis rudely looked over at Brunere with her plain features but beautiful and kind eyes. Then he pretended to look at Sealyn with dirt splattered over the lower portion of her face and messy braids. "No problem." He said dryly.

"There is a third dam with us." Sealyn said proudly, not letting the Blacklock insult get to her. "Fergard's daughter."

"Stormrune?" Gloin said thoughtfully, nodding. "Young I believe."

"Of age now." Sealyn nodded toward the hooded figure.

"Father says the Blacklocks are dismissing our guards around the trade goods we brought." Erelinde said quickly, more interested in her news than in introductions.

Fili frowned sharply at the news, even as he wondered what this third dwarrowdam looked like beneath her cloak.

To the other Longbeards, it wasn't anything unusual to see Erelinde so covered. Her father insisted upon it when they were in town or around unknown dwarrow. It was quite the usual.

To Thorin and those of his generation, it was far more unusual to see dwarrowdams without such covering except in private homes. Or if known to them. But the Desolation had changed a lot of things. Fili was completely unused to the old fashioned ways. His mother had never covered up as such, nor had Gimli's mam for that matter. It never occurred to him that they were already wedded.

"Gresol?"

"I am the leader of the Blacklock!" Himlis hissed.

Thorin's eyes never shifted as he looked to the uncle instead of the warrior. "Did you order our goods taken?" The king asked the Blacklock 'leader', although his gaze never left the other male.

"No!" Himlis disavowed.

"Exactly." Thorin watched Gresol slowly begin to smile.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman circled Kili, looking him over like a piece of furniture that he'd just purchased. The dark-eyed prince stood there, nervous energy making it difficult not to move or to challenge the wizard.

"Be at peace." Galadriel said gently to the son of her daughter's son.

"Peace? Yes. A child of peace. The promise of allegiances." Saruman spoke in a rolling voice full of velvet and grace. A voice that could convince you that the sky was purple and you'd ever believe it. "I only wish the Lady Dis had informed us."

"Me." Elladan said as he poured himself a cup of wine.

Saruman paused and then bowed his head. "Of course."

"Peace is the last thing on Sauron's mind." Elrohir spoke up, accepting a glass of wine handed to him by his twin. "Which recalls an interesting notion that Kuilaith brought up."

Kili startled, then nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but never got the chance.

"Sauron. The great evil, the darkness and the deceiver." Saruman sighed most heavily. "It seems he hid himself from us only too well."

"Not from Gandalf." Galadriel slipped in the words with deadly grace.

Saruman's hand hesitated as he reached for his own wine, but only for a second. "No. Not from Gandalf." And if there was any bitterness to his tone, it was hidden well. "But vague rumors are everywhere and at every time. Even those who are paranoid do happen to, upon occasion, be right."

"Upon occasion." Galadriel repeated the words with the same inflection with which the White Wizard had used them.

Saruman looked in her direction and wondered if she suspected anything at all. He knew his mind was well shielded from her, unless she pressed hard with all she could bear. Which she was not doing. So no. She suspected him not at all.

"Kuilaith feels that he was born in order to tear apart any possible alliance between Dwarves and Elves." Elrohir commented.

Saruman's eyes slid back to the young princling. "He does?" Something moved behind his eyes, some dark thought. "Interesting."

Kili nodded. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

The White Wizard bit back a reprimand to tell the impudent fool to close his mouth. He pushed back the thought that he could kill the mortal idiot with but a word or three, right where he stood. How would the elves like that? Saruman instead sat back and sipped his wine. "Please, continue."

Warming, Kili turned with eager eyes. "Look. I know that you're wise and all, but so were the elves that crafted the rings of power, right?"

Galadriel nodded at him encouragingly, her manner warm and her smile gentle.

Saruman gave that tiny gesture more weight than anything the dwarf could possibly say. It seemed that the Lady of Light had taken a goodly interest in the mongrel child born of her line.

"But Sauron, he's the Deceiver. The big deceiver." Kili bit his lip, but then pressed onward. "Dwarves are greedy when it comes to family. Fathers, mothers, sons, children at all … it's everything."

Saruman bit back the automatic response to insult the dwarves by saying they were greedy for everything. He needed to be encouraging right now. Or at least, as seen as encouraging. "Go on."

"And Elves. They have so few children. Each child is hugely precious to them. Beyond measure." Kili threw out his arms in emphasis, speaking a bit too fast in his enthusiasm. "Why would anyone wise think the two races could share a child?"

"Because both races would treasure that child." Saruman said rather cuttingly. When he heard his own tone, he softened it. "Both Dwarves and Elves, neither would do anything to harm such a child."

"Not me, er …not the child." Kili grinned a bit sheepishly. "But fight over rights to the child. It's not good, what my mam did. Taking me and all that. But it did save everyone from fighting over me so much when I was younger."

"Only to fight now?" Saruman asked the obvious.

"No." Kili straightened. "Now I'm an adult." He winked over at his father. "Mostly."

Elladan chuckled, and saluted his son with his glass. "You're doing well."

"Both sides are interested in me. Yes. So what?" Kili grinned. "I make my own choices now and I can straddle the line between the two races much better as an adult than a child."

"Can you?" Saruman stroked the stem of his wine glass a moment, before deliberately stilling his hand. He did not want to appear as if nervous or planning anything.

Kili stepped closer to the wizard, eager to explain. He licked his lips and then shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I think that Sauron used you. Them. All of you."

Saruman stilled, amazed at what the silly youth had actually worked out in his head. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Don't be embarrassed!" Kili shrugged and made a slight face. "I mean, he IS the Deceiver. Rings. Fooled everyone before. See?"

The wizard took a sip of his wine in order to organize his thoughts. He glanced over at Lord Celeborn standing next to his wife. "Do you two believe this as well?"

Galadriel stared at him for a long moment, but finally she spoke. "Perhaps, perhaps not. But even if Sauron had no hand in the plan to marry the two races, he would not be above using it to his own advantage."

Relief poured through the wizard as he pretended to think over this idea. "He would use anything to his advantage." Saruman agreed.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel fought the urge to pace, having been left in the receiving hall while the dwarves went outside to the Blacklock camps and the elves went to commune with the wizard.

Glorfindel offered her a glass of wine, which she declined.

Arwen moved in next to her with a wide smile. "So …."

The red head glanced at the beautiful High Elf, unsure. "What?"

Glorfindel smiled into his glass. "Female talk. I'll go over there." He pointed toward the entrance from outside. "Ready to escape if the talk turns too soft and sweet for me."

Bifur pulled out a stick of wood and a sharp knife, choosing a spot and began cutting. None of Dain's people still in the room looked at them.

Arwen's smile only grew. "Tell!"

Tauriel looked around her, then shrugged.

Bifur made a pursed movement with his lips.

The red head hesitated at the sight. "The kiss?" She guessed.

Arwen moved in closer, almost too close. "You know what I meant!"

Actually, she didn't. What had Glorfindel called it? Female talk? Tauriel did not have any experience with this sort of thing. Any time someone in her command had spoken on such she'd turned the conversation back to more practical matters.

"Well?"

Tauriel watched the other she-elf and realized that she wasn't getting away without talking about this, not unless she went into full retreat. And hid. For years. She sighed heavily.

Arwen leaned in, not losing one jot of her enthusiasm.

"It was a kiss." Tauriel said rather lamely.

Disappointed, the Rivendell lass straightened up and gave her companion a telling look. "Have you had any others?"

"No." The red-head admitted.

"So. What was it like?" Demanded Arwen.

"Surprising." Tauriel said vaguely. She could remember the moment quite clearly. And yes, it had been a surprise. Elves didn't kiss, not until certain real and binding promises had been made to each other. It was a prelude to marriage and … "Warm."

"Warm?" Arwen sat back, as if thinking it over. She held her hand in front of her face and breathed out. "Yes, I can see that. Heat from both of you breathing and all."

Somehow Tauriel thought it was more than that. Yes. Kili's skin and lips had been warm. His hands on her face had held warmth. But it was more than that. Heat. There had been a surprising amount of heat that body temperature alone could not explain.

"Anything else?" Arwen persisted.

"Private." Tauriel tried to stop the questions. "Please."

The High Elf nodded and even sat back. Which should have brought relief, but Tauriel was chagrined to see the almost rejected look on Arwen's face. The disappointment in her eyes.

"Hot. Tender." Tauriel's mouth opened without her permission.

"Oh." The dark-haired she-elf looked up happy with the sharing. "Like the songs?"

Tauriel paused, thinking of the great love sagas that the elves had in their traditions. Shocked, she nodded. "I always thought them an exaggeration."

"Me too!" Arwen blew out a chuckle and then smiled. "Really?" She sighed. "I'm jealous now."

Instinctively Tauriel knew the other elf wasn't jealous of Kili himself, but that the two of them were sharing something so romantic. "Romantic."

A heartfelt sigh from the dark-haired beauty. "Yes it was."

Tauriel nodded, keeping all other comments and thoughts to herself.

"Do dwarves kiss a lot?" Arwen asked rhetorically, then she looked back over at Bifur and repeated her question.

Bifur shrugged, nodded, then shrugged. He then waffled his hand back and forth and said something neither female could understand.

"I would guess more kissing than a courting elven couple." Arwen laughed happily. "If I were you, I'd keep thinking Dwarven thoughts."

Tauriel blushed, but didn't disagree.

"Keep all embarrassing comments to yourselves." Glorfindel started striding back toward them. "They're coming back inside."

The two women stood, one looking mightily pleased and the other a bit confused.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin scowled as he stopped in the middle of his receiving hall and wondered how it was that he didn't have a headache. He should have one, what with all the idiocy and stupidity of the day. "Those goods are NOT belonging to you lot!"

Gresol shrugged. "We rescued the caravan, it's people …and it's goods! They belong to us!" He smiled pleasantly. "You don't negate those facts, do you?"

"Our caravan never fell!" This from a dwarrow with a neatly braided but full black beard with no decorations. "We never ceded rights to our goods to you or others! You came in to offer assistance, but no contract was settled before such."

"Fergard, Fergard." Gresol turned on the dwarrow. "You were right happy to see us at the time."

"At the time I thought you better than the goblins." The dark-bearded dwarf bellowed unhappily.

The Blacklock uncle and nephew shared a look and a frown. "That was an unfriendly thing to say."

"Trying to steal our goods is an unfriendly thing to do!" This from a gruff looking dwarrow with a nose that looked off-center, as if broken in the past and ill set. He was also obviously wounded and being supported by either the most delicate looking dwarf Tauriel had ever seen, or a dwarrowdam. At that moment the dwarf looked up and met her eyes.

The red-head didn't think about rivalry at the moment, she knew distress when she saw it. Tauriel grabbed a nearby bench, picking it up with ease as she hurried forward and sat it where the wounded dwarf could sit and prop his bandaged leg.

The dwarrowdam looked up at her with true thankfulness in her rather pretty violet-blue eyes. "Father, please."

Arwen moved up next to her with a mug of ale for the dwarf.

The gray-bearded dwarf looked from his daughter to the two she-elves and managed to look utterly astonished, confused, and yet grateful. "Thank ye ….lass, er …well …lasses?"

"Lass is fine, Master Dwarf." Tauriel assured him.

The dwarrow nodded at her, started to look away and then turned back to stare gape jawed at the beads in her hair. His eyes narrowing in on the one sapphire and ruby clasp that Kili had gifted to her. "Uh … he's a lucky …" What? Would a dwarf court an elf? But that was a dwarven clasp and those were dwarven braids in her hair. Tradition stated he finish his sentence. " …a lucky dwarrow."

Tauriel touched the clasp in her hair, then gave him a bit of a doleful look. "I'm afraid I don't know if there is a traditional response I should give. But I thank you."

She looked up to find Bifur beaming at her in approval.

"Look. Who cares if Thorin forced his younger heir to waken before his time for some elf bit, but we …." Himlis stopped cold. He had to, with the blade now at his throat.

Fili grinned at him viciously. "Keep going. Finish that thought. Out loud." His blade hand was steady, with the razor sharp tip tasting the sweat on the male's neck. "Please."

Gresol looked around and was surprised to see how many dwarrow from both Erebor and the Iron Hills had their hands on the hilts of their blades. He wasn't the only one.

Tauriel glanced around. Dwalin, Balin, Dori, Nori, Bifur and even sweet natured Ori. Fili's blade was out and Thorin looked like he was about to explode. She caught Glorfindel's eye and he winked at her. Of the company only Gloin wasn't looking threatening, though he did appear quite angry. The others weren't there to hear or react.

"The King would not do such." Dori said with much indigence.

Tauriel relaxed slightly, a bit mortified at herself. Of course they weren't reacting to a jibe against her, but to their leader.

"And don't you be talking about her like that!" Ori's voice rose over the crowd, his temper staining his cheeks red but his eyes were fierce and protective.

"Stand down, cousins." Thorin said slowly.

Gresol's expression stilled with some unknown emotion. Finally, he quirked a look over at the king.

Thorin smiled maliciously. "Yes. I name them cousin, and I don't name you and yours such. For we actually share blood."

Dori looked completely appalled, while Nori suddenly appeared smug. "Distantly." The gray-bearded dwarf said with a placating tone.

"Blood." Thorin asserted. "Fili, please. Sister-son. Re-sheath your blade.

"Which one?" The blond crooned.

That's when most everyone noticed the second blade held an inch from Himlis' gut.

Slow applause filled the room and all eyes turned toward the lone dwarrowdam approaching them from the main entrance to the room.

Fili stepped back, pulling his blades clear just in case. He eyed the newcomer with appreciation. For she was pretty indeed.

Dark chestnut curls shining richly and with scattered seed pearls threaded throughout her intricate braids. Here and there the spark of a diamond buried within the tresses as well. Bright brown eyes were wide and framed with lashes lined and darkened with khol. It was an interesting effect. Exotic. Especially to a young prince who'd only even rarely seen a female of his own race.

Fili glanced over at the hooded and cloaked form next the Fergard Stormrune. Hadn't they indicated that the third dwarrowdam was over there?

"Sister." Himlis said with pleasure and warning.

Fili sighed. Oh. Right.

"I present to the king and his heir, as well as all his ….cousins." Gresol's voice dripped with something entirely too close to mockery. "The Lady Risil Blacklock."

Sealyn and Brunere stared at the pristine gown the dwarrowdam was wearing. A gown? Really? Feeling grungy and dirty, both females gave each other a baleful look. Some first impression they were giving. Dust covered grime and sweat as well as even blood, they were geared in plain travel tunics and slacks. Their nice clothing in trunks.

Nori leaned in and eyed the Blacklock heiress for a moment, then looked at Fili. "Cousin." He deliberately stressed the word. "That rock that the Lady gave you, that is supposed to alert you to danger. What color would you say it would change to if you waved it over this one?" He cocked his head at the newest dwarrowdam with something like glee in his eyes.

Fili roared with laughter, earning a disgusted look from the Blacklock heiress, who went so far as to pull the hems of her skirts away from him.

Sealyn looked over at Nori with a genuine smile. Brunere leaned toward her. "I saw him first." She teased with a whisper.

"Liar." Sealyn smile turned into a bit of a smirk.

Himlis eyed Fili with great displeasure, clearly insulted. "I was going to let your goods go, for a rescue fee. Minimal. But I am rethinking that position."

"Rethink it all you want, laddie. Keep the goods."

Shocked looks turned to Gloin, who reached into his leather coat to pull out some parchments. "Now that we settled that."

"Settled?" Roared Fergard, only to fall silent at a glare from Dwalin.

Gloin cleared his throat. "Settled. Now. We can discuss the loans that the Blacklocks took out with King Thror two hundred years ago."

Gresol's eyes widened.

The red-haired dwarrow looked up. "Oh. I know you told Thorin after the Desolation that everything had been paid back and you had the paperwork to prove it. Owed us nothing your brother said."

Thorin grinned evilly.

Gloin ignored the horrified look on the faces of the Blacklock leaders. "Seemed the dragon didn't flame our copies. Shame for you. Real pity. Because the interest has added up. And nothing in these papers say that you've repaid the loans."

"Interest." Himlis repeated weakly.

Thorin shrugged. "I was inclined to let the interest go. But now. How did you phrase it? I'm rethinking that position."

Gloin nodded grimly. "So many years, garnering interest. Due? Oh wait, it is past due now." He looked up with a lot of satisfaction. "We'll need to discuss all of this, of course."

Fergard settled back down, relieved. The goods that they'd struggled to get to Erebor weren't high money valued. But they were entirely necessary to get a mine back up and running.

Thorin grunted. "Good. Shall we head to my study and discuss the trade goods as well as all outstanding loans?" He gestured for Fili, then frowned. Sighing, he found his crown prince still staring at the lovely Blacklock heiress with both distrust, but also some interest.

Sealyn made a face as she saw the shameless looks being sent to the handsome young prince. "We need to put a spike in that." She whispered to her best friend. "But right now we look like we've been hung out wet and left to burn in the sun."

Brunere glanced over at Erelinde and raised a brow.

Sealyn's gaze perked up and wondered how to accomplish what was necessary. Then she stilled. That Nori, he was behind Erelinde and he was looking at her. A few hand signs and a glance at the hem was all it took. He gave her a questioning look and she smiled.

Nori weighed it over in his mind and did as asked. He stepped on the long hem and put his full weight on it.

"Erelinde? We need to get our room ready, and allow our fathers to rest and heal."

"Oh." The youngest of the three dwarrowdams moved across the group to join them. Only her hem was weighted down suddenly. It jerked her to a sudden stop with a small sound. She turned and Nori smiled at her in apology, staring.

Erelinde pulled her hood back up over her face from where it had fallen and continued over to her friends.

Fili made a soft distressed sound as she hid her face again, all thoughts of the Blacklock heiress suddenly dissipating like so much fog once the sun comes out.

Every male eye watched the trio as they stood chatting and planning what they'd need to bring inside to unpack.

Thorin looked toward Fergard with wide eyes. "When you told me you couldn't come with me so you could stay and protect your child …"

Dwalin whistled softly, his eyes seeking out Balin's.

Fili wanted nothing more than to go over there and pull the hood down again. She couldn't possibly be as beautiful as he'd thought he'd seen. Not really. No. Couldn't. Damn.

Sealyn looked over at the Blacklock heiress and smiled winningly. "Had mud thrown on the wrong dam."

Brorgic Grimbasher suddenly laughed, remembering what had happened earlier.

Fergard gave a weak smile that was more than a little sad. "She's nearly craft-wed."

The father's words culling another distressed sound from Fili.

Dwalin leaned in helpfully. "He said nearly, lad. Nearly."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Home sick. Me and my son both. My loss, hopefully you look upon this chapter as a gain. If it doesn't make sense, blame the flu. (Gresol's name changed to Gersol half-way through and I didn't notice until the end. I think I fixed them all. But I could be hallucinating. j/k)


	29. In which stones are broken

Elrohir returned to the main dining hall after escorting his sister to her room for the evening. He was smiling and shaking his head a bit. He paused a moment to look over everyone still up and about.

It was late, and had been a very exciting day, he mused. And as late as it was, the day was still bustling with activity.

Dwarves were moving around all over the place and there was a big pot of stew steaming over the main hearth with a stacks of bowls, one for the clean and one for the used. The arrival of the immigrants from some of the smaller mining towns as well as the Blacklock clan, had thrown the whole place into organized chaos.

Not that the Blacklocks were even inside the walls of Erebor, having been forced to set up camp outside. But their presence was like something irritating and driving everyone inside to new levels of activity.

Elladan half-stood, catching the eye of his twin. Elrohir moved in that direction. Unsurprised to find his brother sitting with Glorfindel, Dwalin and Balin. Ale and wine were set about, as were some plates with fruit and cheeses.

"Discussing the day?" Elrohir took a seat on the bench next to the white-haired advisor to the king. Balin flashed him a quick smile.

"Discussing courting differences in our races." Dwalin smirked, downing the rest of his ale in one long gulp.

Elrohir sighed and looked at his brother. "It's done. They've traded beads. Let them get to know each other. It's not such a bad thing."

Elladan smiled rather weakly. "I know. But I can't help feeling that they're both so young."

Balin shook his head. "Trying to wrap my head around someone over 600 years old being considered young." He muttered.

Elrohir chuckled, propping his chin casually on one hand as he put his elbow on the table. His gray eyes studied his twin brother for a long moment. "Kuilaith is also Kili."

Elladan frowned. "I know that!"

"Do you?" Dwalin scratched his chin, squinting at the taller elf. "He's been raised Dwarf. Thinks of himself as an adult and full grown. It will be difficult to stuff him back into the mold of a child."

Glorfindel sipped his wine as he listened. "Just as it is difficult to go from having no child, to finding you have one almost near grown."

Balin nodded thoughtfully, his eyes not unsympathetic as he looked at the elvish father in question. "Kili has never been one to sit around. He's always thrown himself at life head first, even as a dwarfling." He made a distressed sound. "Sorry. Elfling? It doesn't sound right to my ears."

Hearing the distress in the older dwarf's voice, Elrohir shook his head. "Dwarfling is fine."

Elladan moved a bit stiffly. He didn't care for the term dwarfling as it applied to his son. But he had no grounds to object, not really. It was a personal thing and of no real importance.

"So. Kissing is a dwarven tradition in courting?" Elrohir asked, feeling a bit awkward bringing up the subject. Kissing was a private matter to elves, not generally done in public except for in greeting. Which wasn't what had happened today.

Dwalin snorted out a laugh. "No."

Both elves turned to stare at him and the bald warrior laughed again, shaking his head. "No."

Balin held out his hands apologetically. "The lad took some advantage there."

Elladan sat back with a look of resignation while Elrohir began to chuckle.

Balin shrugged lightly. "But not really. A kiss to seal the beginning of courtship is NOT untraditional. Just it's usually a more polite thing, such as a kiss on the cheek or the hand. A signal."

An arrested look on Glorfindel's face turned into a lazy smile. "Any chance that the lad didn't know he was taking advantage?"

"No." Said Balin and Dwalin at the same time.

"I highly doubt that." The elvish father continued as he rolled his eyes while his own brother laughed at him.

"Gloin kissed his wife at the beginning of their courtship." Balin added thoughtfully. "Kili has heard the story, we all have. We dwarves love to tell stories in the evenings. But Gloin and the dam he married had been walking out together for several years before they got around to making it an official courtship."

At Elrohir's puzzled look, Balin explained. "Gloin wanted to build up enough money to support a family first. He started out with nothing but the dirt beneath his nails." He lifted his mug in a silent salute to the red-bearded dwarrow who was off in Thorin's study going over paperwork even now.

Dwalin's mug was raised in response and Glorfindel waved his wine glass in their general direction for a moment.

Elladan turned and stared at the door leading to the private meeting chamber where those members of the White Council that were here had ensconced themselves. "When Kuilaith emerges, we're going to have to have a chat."

Elrohir looked puzzled. "But I just saw him walking with Tauriel out on the battlements."

Elladan looked stricken as Glorfindel nearly choked on his wine, looking utterly amused.

Dwalin grinned. "Must have gone out the side door."

Elladan's eyes closed slowly, as if in pain.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili sat on the balcony railing, completely unaffected by height or any thought of danger. His eyes were solely upon the she-elf standing in front of him. In this position, their heads were nearly on the same level.

A bit insecure with being the focus of so much attention, Tauriel looked out over the night vista. Listening to the sounds of three hundred and fifty dwarves settling in for the night in their camp.

Battle and possibly dying in warfare were nothing new to her. Facing down enemies didn't leave her uncertain or unsure of herself. This was new territory, and she wasn't sure she liked it.

Kili's smile grew as he watched her. The light of the torches out here playing 'hide me, seek me' with the sapphire and ruby clasp in her hair. "I couldn't believe my eyes."

She didn't pretend to not understand his comment. Her hand rose to the jeweled clasp and the braid it held. "I didn't know what it was supposed to mean, not at first."

At this, the dark-haired prince's smile lost some brightness. "You didn't?"

Tauriel hurried to reassure him. "I thought it was something along these lines, but it was more of a hope than a knowledge. And no specifics."

Kili's smile returned full force, making her blink at him and then smile back. He had that effect on her. "A hope?" He whispered, savoring the words on his tongue as his hand reached for hers.

Tauriel drew back in spite of herself. "What you did today is not something I am used to."

Dark eyes studied her for a moment, then he bit his lower lip and looked down. Peeking up at her from beneath his lashes as he obviously struggled not to smile.

The red-head crossed her arms, green eyes flashing. "That was entirely too public."

"Supposed to be public." Kili hedged, not admitting to anything. "Courtship beads are always exchanged in front of friends and family."

She hadn't been talking about the beads and he knew it. She sent him a withering look, but the scoundrel just winked at her.

"We're not in public now." The young male said slowly, his dark-eyed gaze lingering on her lips for too long to be polite. He held out his hand to her again.

She didn't move to take his offer, though her heart rate sped up alarmingly. "Do you not know what such things mean in elven customs?"

"A promise." Kili said languidly, teasing her with his voice. "I always keep my promises."

Tauriel felt the urge to turn and run. But she had never been a coward and it was against everything in her nature. She lifted her chin stubbornly and pinned him with a look. "Such is not deemed proper, not for elves."

Kili pressed his open palm over his heart, his eyes never leaving hers. "Not an elf." He grinned. "Not fully."

"And why should your customs take precedence over mine?"

He laughed and spread his hands out as if to encompass all of Erebor. "It's a Dwarven kingdom!"

"And these are elven lips!" She snapped back at him before she could think through her response.

"And delicious." He crooned happily at her, his eyes eager.

"Stop that!" The red-head pursed her lips at him and realized she'd just put them in a kissing expression. Her face smoothed out immediately.

Kili, perhaps sensing when to back off, let the moment go with a grin. He shrugged lightly. "What is an elvish tradition? Perhaps we can share. One of mine, one of yours."

Tauriel blinked.

"We've already had the Elenlote poem." He reminded her, still pleased that she'd recited it to him even if he'd been unware of the meaning at the time.

"Walking." The red-head spoke up quickly. Then she blinked. "Talking."

"We're talking." He pointed out.

She sighed. "No, you're enticing."

Deliberately misinterpreting her words, Kili beamed with pleasure. "Thank you, but I think you are far more enticing than I am."

Tauriel laughed suddenly, shaking her head. "Incorrigible."

"Kiss me." He invited.

"No." She teased. Her nerves settling as she felt the pull of the forbidden. Her lips felt tight with anticipation. Kissing wasn't something she should be thinking about, but she couldn't help herself.

Kili let his face crumple in disappointment, only his eyes giving away his amusement. "You didn't like it? It was the first time I've ever kissed anyone like that. I can get better."

Better? Tauriel's face flamed. Any better and she'd have fallen over!

"Was that the first kiss you've ever given?" He teased her.

The she-elf's chin slipped upwards in a bit of indignant and confused temper. "Given? You stole that kiss."

"True." Kili grinned at her, completely without remorse. "But I'm willing to give it back to you."

Tauriel laughed, even as she fought against the tingle his words brought to her lips. "I'm not falling for that. Do you find me foolish?"

"I find you lovely. Smart. Brave. Deadly. Strong. I find you at the start of my thoughts each morning, and the last of my thoughts each evening. My ears are filled with the sound of your voice and my eyes are lonely without you before them."

Tauriel stopped breathing for a moment, her eyes wide and limpid as they stared at him. Her eyes moved down to his lips and it was all she had within her to keep from going to him.

"Are those your words, or of some long ago Dwarven poet?"

The dry voice of Elladan interrupting the duo was like a bucket of cold water.

The she-elf blushed, not at being caught alone with Kili, but for having not noticed the arrival of someone behind her. That hadn't happened in centuries. She bowed to hide her eyes and expression. She didn't say anything either, not trusting her suddenly dry throat to support her voice.

Kili glared daggers at his father and glanced at his personal star. He sighed. The moment was well and truly broken. "Mine. They are my thoughts and my words." He responded. "I'm no master, but I can craft a song or poem."

Elladan nodded and smiled at his stubborn and snarly son. "No more sneaking away to be alone together."

Kili opened his mouth to protest.

"I have been speaking with your elders. And the dwarrow inform me that now that you two are officially courting, you are supposed to have a chaperone. Dwarven tradition."

Kili's mouth snapped shut in irritation.

Elladan shrugged gracefully. "If you were going by elven traditions, you two could take long walks alone and no one would mind or care."

Dark eyes brightened at the thought.

"But you exchanged beads, and kissed her in front of one in all in Dwarven tradition." The tall elf smiled easily at his son. "So why not continue in that vein?"

"Father?" Kili tried the word out most deliberately.

Something sparked in the elf's eyes before his expression turned neutral. "Smoothly done. But no. You took advantage of Tauriel's lack of knowledge once already today. Calling me father won't change anything. You called for Dwarven traditions, and now you can live with that."

Kili smiled weakly.

Elladan leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. "So. Now you have a chaperone. Go ahead. Finish your poetry."

Tauriel's face flamed. This was not elven tradition, she sent a wide-eyed look at Kili. But the prince had nothing. He shrugged at her helplessly.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I think I hate him." Kili poked at his lunch the next day with complete indifference to the fine roast on his plate.

Fili looked up, his mouth full. The two young princes had the head table basically to themselves. Thorin was still meeting with Gloin and the Blacklocks again today.

Oin was in the healer's hall and the rest of the Company were spread out throughout Erebor.

Blue eyes asked the question mutely.

"My da." Kili frowned sharply. "Everywhere I turn I find someone watching. Elf, dwarf, whatever. Someone."

Fili hurried and swallowed, washing his food down with a generous gulp of fine ale. "It's your own fault."

His younger brother glared at him.

Fili grinned and shrugged, deftly cutting up more of his meat. "You grabbed her and kissed her like that in front of everyone. No one trusts you to behave now."

Kili glowered, completely unrepentant.

The blond prince leaned in, eyes brilliant with amusement. "Did it poke out?"

Kili's frown sharpened and he shook his head. His body was not yet 'awakened'. "Starting to itch though. Thorin warned me it might."

Fili's hands paused while in the middle of taking a bite, he put his knife down as he stared at his brother. "Really?"

The younger dwarf fidgeted in his seat. "Really."

The blond stared at his younger brother and licked his lips, not sure how to respond. "I know you like her …" He started.

"I love her." Kili admitted with a wide-eyed look.

Fili continued to stare for a long moment. "She saved your life."

The younger brother shot his sibling an exasperated look. "And you think I'm only feeling grateful?"

"Kili …" The blond licked his lips and shrugged. "Are you sure?"

The brunet nodded eagerly. "More than sure."

Fili put down his knife and leaned back, studying the open expression on his brother's face. "Thorin always said never fall for the first pretty face that pays you any attention. That love at first sight is nonsense."

"I know, I know." Kili waved off the words, unconcerned. "But …I don't know that uncle is right."

The blond shook his head, looking stunned.

"I was …attracted to her right at the first. But every time I see her after that, it only grows." Kili leaned in conspiratorially. "She threw me in prison and it didn't change how I saw her. She's loyal and strong and it didn't matter that there were bars between us."

Fili swallowed and nodded, but didn't say anything, not yet.

"I left her behind, because …" Kili grinned suddenly. "I'm loyal and strong too and she had her duties and I had mine."

Blue eyes lightened with pride as Fili nodded again. He knew his brother's heart. Unwavering and true.

"But then she came again. This time she saved me. Still loyal and strong, but …fighting for me. Doing what she considered right and just. Not because I asked it of her, but because it's who she is. Deep down."

Fili licked his lips, not able to deny the words. "She betrayed Thranduil's orders."

Kili shook his head emphatically. "But she couldn't betray herself. She did what she knew in her heart to be the right thing to do. Not for me. But because it was right."

The blond couldn't argue the point, not really. Yes. The she-elf had disregarded orders. But was Fili himself guilty of that? Had he not argued with Thorin when his uncle was in the throes of dragon sickness? Had he not been proud of Bilbo when the hobbit had given the arkenstone to the elf king?

As if able to read his mind, Kili continued. "If all of us had done our duty, rather than what we felt was right, none of us would be alive today."

Fili made a protesting sound.

Kili leaned in, piercing his brother with his earnest gaze. "Did you not get out of that boat to stay with me rather than to follow your king?"

Fili smiled weakly, but nodded his head. A rueful expression on his expressive lips as he shrugged. "Apparently you have something about you that makes you damned loveable. Or Tauriel and I are both idiots."

"Shut up." Kili snapped crossly.

"So." Fili's eyebrows rose as he lifted his empty mug and refilled it from the pitcher on the table. "Tauriel is to be my new sister."

"You'll support me?" Kili asked with more hesitance than he'd known about. Until now, it hadn't really gelled within his mind that he needed Fili's approval. More than anyone else. More than Thorin or Mam, it was Fili he looked toward.

Seeing his brother's vulnerability, Fili grinned. "Already have. Told Thorin he needed to support your choice. Before you two exchanged beads."

Kili's shoulders relaxed suddenly and he began to laugh. Relief poured through him as he grinned at his brother. Suddenly he stopped, staring at something over Fili's shoulder.

Fili turned and grunted. "Risil Blacklock. Dangerous. Glorfindel seems to think our stones will turn colors around her."

Kili choked back his laughter, barely. "Pretty."

Fili squinted and shrugged. "More exotic than pretty, I'd say. Striking."

Surprised to hear his brother sound so casual, Kili stared at him. "You're not interested?"

"Are you?" Fili asked pointedly.

The dark-haired prince shook his head with far more emphasis than necessary. Then he grinned. "She's too short, too round, too much hair on her face, and her eyes aren't green."

Laughing, Fili lifted his mug at his sibling and took a drink. Before he could say anything, however, the other dwarf stiffened. Looking back he saw the Blacklock heiress and her brother making their way toward the two of them. "Watch yourself." He warned.

Kili nodded, falling silent.

"Break of the day to you both, young princes." Himlis said with a loud voice, looking happy to see them. Though his smile didn't quite touch the expression in his eyes.

Fili nodded carefully. "Day broke hours ago." He commented smoothly.

"Didn't see you two at first meal." Himlis said rather pointedly.

Fili shrugged and Kili didn't respond. Neither mentioned that they'd slept in because both were still recovering. Thorin's orders. Then Oin and Nuluin had checked on them. Re-wrapping wounds and giving Kili some chest percussions to break up the goo soaking his lungs in order to bring it up and out. "We had duties." Was all the blond would admit.

"Of course." Risil said in a smoky, smooth voice with the hint of an accent. Her rich brown eyes studying the blond most carefully, almost in anticipation. "I completely understand the pull of duty over personal needs." She smiled. "It is the dwarven way."

Did her eyes flicker toward Kili for a moment. No. But Fili couldn't help but feel she was poking at the revelation that his brother's bloodline wasn't pure blood dwarf. "Yes." He said, committing to nothing and trying to keep his voice bland.

"I was hoping for a tour of Erebor." Risil said in her rich voice, her words a clear invitation to the young prince. But only one of them.

Fili smiled at her. Kili bit back a grin. It was his brother's warning smile. The one he wore when things might turn ugly and be prepared to move. "I think that could be arranged." The blond looked deliberately over at Kili.

The younger prince stiffened. He wouldn't. His eyes widened in mute appeal.

"I was hoping someone more familiar with the kingdom." Risil looked at the seat next to Fili, as if to remind him that he had yet to offer her a chance to sit.

Kili reached into his leathers and pulled out a rough stone. He peered at it and then shook it. Finally he shrugged and put it on the table in front of him, between he and his brother.

Fili bit his lip to keep from laughing. He cocked his head at Risil and then gestured at a nearby guard. "Summon Dwalin for me."

Himlis frowned. "Dwalin?"

Fili and Kili both rose and bowed to the Blacklock siblings. "Neither my brother nor myself have ever set foot in Erebor before this quest. We would make very poor guides, I'm afraid." He grinned. "But Mr. Dwalin grew up here and would be more than happy to assist."

Kili turned his head to the side to keep the smirk off of his face. He grabbed the stone off the table and held it in front of him. Shaking it, he looked again. It appeared no different. The brunet looked up at Fili. "I think mine's broken." He said mournfully.

Fili chuckled and bowed politely to the Blacklocks. "As you fully understand the pull of duty …" He struggled not to sound sarcastic. "You will excuse us. As heirs, we have matters to attend."

The two siblings moved away swiftly, making a clean break for it.

Kili leaned in toward him. "Dwalin will kill you."

"He'll understand. He'll be protecting us." Fili whispered back. "Do you have duties today?"

"Courting." Kili grinned. "Oh, and getting well. You?"

"Getting the crafting halls in order." Fili grinned.

Shocked, the young brunet stopped to stare at his older brother. "They gave you a job?" He sounded hurt.

"Getting well." Fili admitted. "And that's why I'm going to the crafting halls."

Kili looked confused.

The blond grinned and shrugged. "I don't think Thorin is right either." He said mysteriously and moved away.

Kili stared at his brother's retreating back in consternation. "About what?" He sighed and looked around, completely at a loss. "Did I miss something?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You need to eat." Dain offered the plate to Dis with concern in his eyes. He was awkward offering support rather than wielding a weapon.

"I ate."

Dain looked down at the only half-empty plate and growled softly at the back of his throat. With a sigh he left her, heading over toward some of his dwarrow.

"You treat him poorly."

Dis looked over at the elf with cold eyes. Hinnin rarely tried to speak with her anymore, and she preferred it that way.

"He cares about you. Worries." The elf continued, ignoring her ignoring him. "Please."

Dis snorted in spite of herself. "Ever polite." She muttered.

Hinnin looked up in some surprise.

"At your worst. In the midst of grief, despair, or whatever it might be. It doesn't matter. Elves are always so polite."

Hinnin wasn't sure how to respond. He measured her words most carefully. "Not every elf."

Dis shrugged. "The ones I've met."

The elf warrior nodded slowly. "I do not know all the elves you may have met. But my assumption is they were all connected to Rivendell and Lord Elrond."

Dis gave him a cool glance.

Hinnin pressed forward. "They would have striven to deal with you with great respect. Given the circumstances."

The dwarrowdam laughed rather gratingly, no humor within her at the moment. "Circumstances." She mocked.

"It would have been hard on all parties involved." Hinnin said most carefully.

Dis stopped, bit back her first response, and did him the service of settling down her temper. She sighed. "Yes. It wasn't easy on any of us at the time." She admitted.

This was the longest she'd spoken to anyone on the journey thus far, ever since leaving Ered Luin. Hinnin hesitated. He was unsure what to say to her. He was angry with her for her actions, but there was some pity there as well. Yet it wasn't his place to offer comfort or advice. So he settled on the only safe topic he could approach.

"Dain worries about you."

Dis looked at the elf. She wasn't blind. Neither Hinnin nor Dain were outgoing speakers or individuals. But there was an ease to them when in each other's company. Friendly, if not friends as yet. A respect for each other. "You would have me eat to ease Dain?"

Hinnin didn't respond to her rather sharp question.

"Not for my sake, but for his." Dis shrugged her shoulders to try and ease the tension setting in there. "You don't like me."

"I don't know you." He said truthfully.

"What you do know, you don't like." She pressed.

Hinnin nodded slowly. "I cannot deny that."

"And in my place you'd have given up your child to someone you knew only slightly and barely functioned?"

The elf warrior blinked slowly at her, his face giving away nothing of his racing thoughts. "It is not my place to discuss this with you."

"No. No, it's not." Dis agreed.

Uncomfortable, Hinnin looked away from the dwarrowdam for a moment. Finally he sighed. "It is a long trip. You have to be worried about our arrival, and for that I am sorry. But none of this is Dain's fault." He paused for a moment. "Nor mine."

Dis shook her head. "Fault?" She scoffed.

Hinnin licked his dry lips, more than a little worried that he'd not helped this night, but made things worse.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"A murder?" The rich tones of the White Wizard rang with shock and disbelief.

King Thorin nodded. He looked around his study. It still was a bit of a shock to see so many who weren't dwarves. Galadriel, Celeborn and the wizard, Saruman. Added to these discussions were the Mirkwood king and the human leader, Bard.

They'd spent most of today discussing Mordor and Sauron as well as defense.

"A dwarven problem." Saruman said finally.

Celeborn stirred and shook his head, his silver hair catching the light as he moved. "Not when an elven blade was used and red hairs scattered upon the body."

The wizard stilled as he reached for his wine. He settled back into his seat without his glass. "Oh?"

Bard frowned. But it was Thranduil whose eyebrows snapped together over his brow. "Tauriel?"

"Made to appear so." Thorin spoke with utter calm.

In the face of the dwarven king's lack of temper, the Mirkwood ruler held his tongue.

"I would not think it of her, not without dire provocation." Bard spoke up next.

"My people," Thorin began, thinking of his ginger-haired spy. "Belief the dwarf was chosen as he had a history of provoking Tauriel. The elvish blade was left over from the recent battles, and indeed had not been cleaned of warg fur and blood."

Thranduil's eyebrows rose at these words.

Celeborn nodded and let his eyes meet that of the elf from the Mirkwood. "The hair left behind was not elvish. It was too wiry."

"So, you're looking for a red-headed dwarf who detests those who don't like my former captain?" Thranduil asked silkily, his eyes half-lidded as if not paying attention. It was a lie. He was paying very close attention. To everything.

Thorin grinned without any pleasure. "We think it was a very poor effort to make Tauriel look bad. To end any possible courtship with my younger heir." He watched Thranduil carefully as he spoke, to catch any reaction.

But the Mirkwood king hadn't been raised among sharp-eyed elves for nothing. He showed no reaction.

Galadriel made a soft noise. Nothing really. But suddenly all eyes turned to her. The golden lady smiled at each of them, letting her gaze fall on them all for a moment. "It might be more than that."

"Lady?" Saruman gestured for her to continue, his gestures and voice nothing if not gracious.

"The son of my daughter's son …."

Bard suddenly looked confused.

Thorin leaned over toward him. "Kili."

The human's face cleared.

"Elves have a strange way of putting things. She means he's her great-grandson."

Galadriel stared at Thorin a moment, but the dwarven king did not appear affected by her silent rebuke.

"I've heard he has elven blood." Bard said quietly. "I knew he was descended from Lord Elrond, but did not know he was so connected to you, Lady." He bowed his head.

"Lord Elrond married my dear daughter." Galadriel bowed back to the human graciously. "Making Kuilaith the son of my daughter's son."

"Yes, yes." Saruman said with near impatience.

"He makes a goodly point. That the bringing together of the Dwarven and Elvish bloodlines might not be the unifying solution that one might hope for. But instead work as a wedge between our races."

Bard nodded most thoughtfully. Thranduil sighed and closed his eyes.

"That whether Sauron was leading anyone through deception, or simply using the wedding to sow dissent the result could have been the same."

"The destruction of any possible alliance between elves and dwarves." Thranduil said unhappily. "Such as in the last great alliances that put an end to Sauron the first time."

"Not quite an …end." Galadriel pointed out with great sorrow.

"All of the free races would stand against Sauron." Bard looked from person to person, his earnestness plain on his face.

Saruman's face twisted as if in pain. "Elves and Dwarves take children most seriously."

Bard looked shocked. "And Men don't?"

Thranduil pursed his lips unhappily. "I am several millennia old. I remember the last great fight against Sauron. And yet, I have but one child."

Bard stared at the elf king, then looked at the others. In his dealings with them he'd known their ages, but hadn't really dwelt on all that such a lengthy life would mean. He licked his lips and bowed his head in mute apology for being a shorter lived, but much more fertile race.

"You are a rich man." Thranduil said coolly, his voice devoid of emotion. Yet it was there, under the surface. And Bard knew he was speaking of his children, not his treasury.

"I am indeed." The leader of Esgaroth allowed.

"A child to unite the bloodlines is a good idea." Saruman said slowly. "I thought so then and I think so now. Though I regret how things turned out." He looked over at the elven couple from Lothlorien. "Nor am I convinced that Sauron had such a power over us back then. He is only beginning to consolidate his strength now."

Galadriel looked at him for a long moment in time, until she finally blinked. "I am not as convinced."

"Gandalf got him to reveal himself." Saruman waved his hand in the air. "We have time to prepare our stand."

"I am not sure that he did not reveal himself only because he is ready. Or near to ready." Galadriel countered cautiously. "I think Gandalf strong and able, but feel that the Great Enemy chose to let us know he was back. And I like not what that may mean for us all."

Thranduil steepled his fingers together thoughtfully. "So. To be plain. You think this murder of an unpleasant dwarf and the planting of evidence is a ploy?"

Galadriel turned her gaze onto the Mirkwood ruler. "Perhaps."

Celeborn nodded slowly. "Many possible scenarios come to mind. The elves take offense that dwarves think one of us did this deed. The dwarves take offense that we would defend one of our own despite the evidence."

"That we would believe the evidence planted and calling dwarves liars." Galadriel continued.

"That dwarves would plant such evidence in the first place. Or that dwarves would so set up Tauriel because we are unhappy with Kili's eyes upon her." Thorin groaned heavily. "No matter which way we turn, someone was bound to get suspicious."

Bard leaned back thoughtfully. "So the purpose wasn't to get to Tauriel, but to sow dissension and mistrust between the races."

"Exactly." Galadriel smiled at the human male.

"So, why didn't it work?" The leader from Esgaroth asked quietly.

Saruman snorted. "Because it was an ill-conceived plan and hasty in its execution. Performed by a fool." And something he'd have to deal with, later.

Thorin grimaced. "Tauriel was with several dwarves of high standing during the time of the murder. There was no way she could be involved."

"And the dwarves would not alibi her if they were looking to make her look guilty." Thranduil concluded as he thought through the matter.

"Ill-conceived." Saruman repeated himself gravely. "And now both races are alerted to someone working against them in their midst." He kept his anger out of his voice and his thoughts in check. For now.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You took a big chance with those beads, brother." Dori shook his head at his red-headed sibling.

"Worked." Nori gloated a bit.

"Thorin could have been furious." The elder brother looked up from where he was seated beneath the large loom. He squinted at the various pegs, making notes of which were worth salvaging and which needed repair or replacement.

Nori leaned against the wall nearer the door, watching. He knew next to nothing about weaving and looms. But he did know people. "You worry over too much."

"You worry over not enough." Dori shot back at him, repeating an old argument between the two that went back to their days as dwarflings. "What are you doing here anyway? Don't you have a tavern to run?"

Nori looked up at the stone ceiling and tried to look innocent. "Curious."

Dori wiped oil into the old wooden parts. The looms had already been dusted but now the piece had to be brought back to life. "Curious? About what? Weaving? Since when?"

Nori shrugged, then straightened as two dwarrowdams walked into the room.

Sealyn Heavyaxe gave him a long, yet guarded look. "Are you here to help get the crafting halls back into order?" She sounded liked she rather doubted it, since he was just standing there looking nice. Not a speck of dirt or dust on his leathers.

Nori shook his head, grinning. He glanced over her shoulder at the second female and Sealyn stiffened, but then he looked back to her. "Are you a crafter too?"

"Gem cutter." The dark-haired dwarrow dam admitted reluctantly, disappointed that he'd come here looking for someone other than she.

"Oh greetings. Are you looking for something?" Erelinde moved into the room, her white blond hair pulled back into a very simple braid and pinned back. More to keep her hair out of her eyes than for fashion. It still looked great on her.

Sealyn sighed.

"My brother." Nori tilted his head in Dori's direction. "I have a tavern in the human town."

Erelinde brightened. "Really? I've never been to one."

Sealyn waited for the inevitable invitation.

"Not a place for single ladies." Nori shook his head sadly. "But perhaps if you find an escort, that would be nice. I'd be working and wouldn't be able to play the proper host."

The Heavyaxe daughter looked over at the male in surprise. He wasn't falling all over himself to escort Erelinde himself? The red-bearded dwarrow caught her looking and winked.

Embarrassed, Sealyn smoothed her protective apron, already stained with dust and grime. It wasn't fair that the two times she'd seen him she'd looked less than clean. "So …we'll let you speak with your brother."

"No need to run off. I'm just here to see what happens."

Sealyn looked at him, not sure what to make of his vague statement.

"I need more oil." Dori said, frowning at the loom he was currently working on.

"Oh! I'll get it for you." Erelinde said sweetly. "I'll be right back."

"Very helpful of you ladies to offer aid. You both should be resting after your journey." Dori said with a bit of concern in his voice.

Sealyn smiled sadly. "It feels good to be doing something constructive, not travelling. Brunere would be here to help too, but she's lending a hand in the healing halls."

"Three dwarrowdams. Your town was blessed." Nori grinned at her.

"Four. One comes later." Sealyn said absently. She wanted to ask why he hadn't offered to go get the oil with Erelinde. Was he already interested in someone? There were no courting beads in his hair or beard. Could one be craft wed to a tavern?

Anything she might have asked, however, was lost when she heard boots heading their way.

Soon enough a certain blond prince stuck his head in the door, his blue eyes alit with pleasure. "I heard that Dori had some help for the day up here, and wanted to make sure you had all you needed."

Nori fairly beamed and shot his brother a telling look, sliding his eyes over at the prince.

Dori shook his head and smiled. Curiosity. He understood now. He chuckled as he watched young Fili look around, frowning as he didn't see the dwarrowdam he'd been hoping to find.

Sealyn smiled ruefully, she shook her head at the handsome crown prince and then over at Nori once more. Only to have his warm gaze still on her. Surprised she watched as he tilted his head toward the prince.

"Erelinde will be back in just a moment." Nori said with studied casualness.

Fili shot him a look before turning to bow before Sealyn and introduce himself properly. "Perhaps I can offer you and your friend a tour of Erebor?"

Nori nearly laughed out loud at that one. The prince was almost as new to Erebor as the ladies.

The Heavyaxe dam chuckled and shrugged. "We have a lot of work to do up here."

Dori sighed. "The dragon came through, dragging all the valuables and treasure for his nest. Made a mess of the halls and crafting rooms he could reach. Unfortunately we dwarves are fond of wide passageways and Smaug could reach far too much. Flamed several of the looms and other tools."

"Are you sure that you and Erelinde won't want a tour? Prince Fili would be more than happy to act as escort." Nori urged gently.

So that was it. He wanted the prince to meet Erelinde. Sealyn smiled and nodded. Yet when Fili moved over to speak with Dori and couldn't see her, she shook her head at Nori and crossed her eyes.

Nori's smile dimmed and he gave her a questioning look. Sealyn frowned and the dwarrow reacted to her worried expression. He glanced back over at Fili, but he wasn't paying the two of them any attention at the moment. He listened a moment, but Dori and Fili were only discussing the giant loom in the chamber next to this.

It would be but a few more minutes before Erelinde returned.

Nori considered the timing, and made some vague excuse to pull Sealyn out and across the wide hallway. "What? Is there a problem with the Stormrune dam?"

He hoped this wasn't just jealousy. He'd thought he'd caught the sharp look of intelligence and wit in Sealyn's eyes and he'd be disappointed to find out otherwise.

"She's about perfect." The dwarrowdam whispered. "And her craft …"

"Nearly craft-wed." Nori nodded thoughtfully. "We heard. So that's true and not just a father's wish?"

Sealyn snorted and shook her head grimly. "Fergard would wish otherwise, trust me."

Nori looked confused.

Sealyn leaned in closer, whispering. "He worries she'll turn into a True-Master."

The red-head hissed and drew back, a stunned look in his eyes. "I've seen nothing …"

The dwarrowdam looked down the hallway, but her friend wasn't back yet. "She's a bit forgetful, but fine when she's not crafting."

"When she's not crafting." Nori sighed unhappily. "And when she is?"

Sealyn shrugged. "Nothing else matters. Nothing else even comes close. Not food, not sleep, not …"

"People." Nori sighed. He'd heard of True-Crafters, but had never met one. Though Dori had, in the past. "Are you sure?"

The pretty dwarrowdam ran a nervous hand over her inky-black braids and shrugged. "Never met one before. None of us have really. I know that her father and some of the older dwarrow were worried about it."

"My brother has seen a few in the past. I'll ask him to check on her." Nori promised. "What …" But whatever he'd been about to ask stilled on his tongue as the dam in question returned with the oil for the loom.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili looked up just as Erelinde walked into the room.

No. He hadn't dreamed it. He grinned at her, straightening his shoulders.

"Here's the oil you needed." The pretty dwarrowdam moved toward Dori with a small clay pot. "I brought some extra rags as well. Hello."

"Well met." Fili flashed his best smile.

Blue eyes met blue eyes, and then she leaned forward to peer under the loom. "Do you really think you can get this repaired so soon?"

Fili glanced down at the back of her head. Why? Because that's what he could see. She wasn't paying him any mind at all.

"Uhm."

Erelinde stood back up, looking a bit surprised to see him standing there. "Hello. Oh. Did I forget to greet you, I'm so sorry! Forgive me?"

"Of …course." Fili said without thought, staring into wide blue eyes as she smiled at him. "No, I mean you said hello." Great. Now he sounded like a ripe idiot.

"Are you here to help with the loom repair?" Erelinde asked, pressing a rag into his hand.

Fili held the rag and wet his lips. This wasn't going as he'd expected. "Wait. I'm Fili, son of Dis and I am at your service." He bowed. Good. That was good.

"Erelinde, daughter of Fergard Stormrune." The pretty dam replied, then frowned. "Fili. That's funny. Isn't that the name of the prince?"

"Yes." He grinned at her and winked.

"Oh." Erelinde's eyes flew to his hair, but although she saw his warrior braids, there was no sign of a crown.

"I'm not used to wearing it yet." Fili said self-consciously. "And it gets in the way when repairing looms."

From under the loom in question, Dori sniffed in derision. Fili immediately kicked him when Erelinde looked away.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	30. In which stories are learned

"She leaves with all the other Blacklocks in the morning." Balin tried to sound soothing, but his head was aching as he sat in his king's private study.

Thorin growled, pacing with his hands clasped behind his back, a scowl on his face that would have sent lesser beings running. "She put a darkroot and thorn apple concoction in my ale. It's a bad world when a male's ale is corrupted!"

"Poison?" Fili looked up, puzzled. He didn't recognize those items. Glancing over at his younger sibling didn't help. Kili wasn't listening, but staring at nothing in particular with a scowl of his own.

Nori chuckled at the lost expression on the crown prince's face. "It's an evil mixture that leads a dwarrow to have his body 'awakened' without actually falling in love."

The blond looked horrified, his distressed blue eyes seeking out his uncle. "They could do that?"

Thorin said something pithy and dark in Khuzdul that had Fili blushing a bit. At least Kili looked up this time.

"How do you think we got to be cousins in the first place?" Nori asked blandly, his face settling to a mask of neutrality.

Fili looked at Nori and then back at Thorin. He shook his head and shrugged. "Uncle said you all were our cousins. I …" He blushed slightly, realizing he'd never heard the recitation of bloodlines. How had he missed that?

"It's alright, laddie." Nori said gently.

Thorin growled. "No. No, it's not alright." He turned and pinned his sister-son with an angry look. "My grandfather's grandfather was late in getting married. Nain II. Everyone worried the king wouldn't have an heir. So they used this concoction, which was a dark secret, to allow him to wed a lady of high bloodlines. Sired Dain, Thror's father for whom our Dain is named for. Also having Dain's brother, Borin from which you get Balin, Dwalin, Oin and Gloin."

Fili swallowed, his eyes wide. This didn't sound like it had ended well.

Balin sighed wearily. "Then the king fell in love. Only, not with his wife."

Kili leaned forward, finally listening. "It's through her bloodline that eventually we get Dori, Nori and Ori?" He asked incredulously.

Fili straightened up, his mind racing. "So. If they'd not forced Nain to marry before he could awaken naturally, then THEY would be the royal family of Durin's Folk?"

"And we would never have been born." Balin added with a sharp nod.

"Also shows why it's a terrible scandal for King Thorin here to claim us as cousins." Nori spoke up smoothly.

"You are blood." Thorin said, sounding completely resolute.

The red-bearded dwarf sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Table that. What we need to discuss is the fact that the Blacklock heiress wanted to 'awaken' the king and when he showed no interest in her, she tried to force the issue."

Fili stood abruptly, his fists clenched. Kili was only two seconds behind him and glowering as darkly as his uncle.

Thorin took one look at the two of them and lost his temper for a moment, his eyes lingering on the fine dwarrows before him. Ready to defend him at a moment's notice. His gaze settled on Fili. "I blame you."

The blond's eyes widened comically as he dropped open his mouth to protest.

"If you'd shown the slightest interest in Risil instead of dumping her off on everyone else she'd not have turned to me." Thorin teased darkly and in such a way that Fili wasn't sure if his uncle was really angry or not.

Balin chuckled. "Dwalin still hasn't forgiven you."

"Hasn't talked to me in a week." Admitted Fili. "Just growls."

"And what did you get out of it?" Nori edged back into the conversation, glad that the subject had turned away from his own history. "Thorin gets his crafting halls cleaned and Dori got an extra hand in a lot of necessary work. But lad, does she even know you're alive?"

Fili sank back down into his seat, crossing his arms and refusing to make eye contact. "She's craft crazed."

Nori chuckled lightly. "Dori says not, and he'd know. Reassured the dam's father who is really pleased by the way."

Thorin threw a glance back at the red-bearded dwarf. "Not a True-Master?"

Nori shrugged, picking something out of his teeth. A very uncouth thing to do, and very un-regal. "Says not. Erelinde is extremely focused when it comes to her crafting, but not to that extreme. Absent minded with all else and probably unlikely to marry, like Dori himself. He says that her weaving is excellent. But her real mastery is with lace knotting. He's never seen better."

"Lace isn't a dwarven craft." Balin commented without heat, too tired for anything else.

"Human." Nori admitted. "But most dwarves exiled from Erebor by Smaug have had to live out among the humans. She learned from them and has long since surpassed their skill. Dori is truly impressed."

Thorin's mood lightened some. "And it's a highly tradable commodity with the Elves and Humans."

Balin nodded, his eyes closed. "Thinking of maybe trying to open trade routes with the Shire. Hobbits love lace too."

"I miss Bilbo." Kili finally sat back down, still looking glum.

"He should be home by now, cozy by his fire. Smoking his pipe and eating six meals a day." Thorin said with true fondness. It made him happy to think of his friend safe and home at last, though he too missed the little hobbit.

Kili groused, slouching down into his seat. "At least someone's happy." He muttered.

Thorin's shoulders relaxed a little as he laughed at his younger heir. "Still no luck dodging your chaperones?"

Kili glared at his uncle unhappily. "Oh. Like you have no hand in it."

Thorin shrugged, admitting to nothing.

Balin chided the younger dwarrow. "You're the one who showed everyone that you couldn't be trusted not to take advantage and would need chaperones."

"Was kissing her like that even worth it?" Nori asked.

A slow grin spread across Kili's face as he closed his eyes, recalling the moment. "Yes." He said, his voice a sensuous drawl.

All the males turned to look at his face and that grin, each with a different reaction. Thorin threw up his hands in resignation while Nori chuckled. Balin rolled his eyes. And Fili sighed despondently.

"I want that." The blond admitted.

"Brunere is nice." Balin pointed out. "Bofur has experienced a rash of small injuries taking him to the healing halls at least once a day since she's arrived. So you would have competition I'm guessing."

Thorin barked out a laugh. "And Nori didn't even mention Sealyn. Who has been seen in his company on numerous occasions this week. So take that as telling."

The ginger-haired dwarf shrugged, looking unworried. "Bofur's not the only dwarrow making nonsense runs on the healing halls either. It's exasperating Oin and amusing Nuluin."

"So." Thorin clapped his hands, every inch the ruler of a large kingdom. He grinned viciously around him. "Balin is exhausted trying to keep ahead of the machinations of our Blacklock guests. Nori is stretched thin trying to catch a murderer and a wife at the same time. I'm trying to avoid being drugged and married off like a half-wit. Kili cannot find time alone with the female he's courting …"

"And that's partly your fault." Mumbled Kili ungraciously.

But Thorin didn't stop speaking. "And Fili is standing around looking pretty and getting ignored. Does that sum it up?"

"Life was easier when it was only a death-dealing dragon we had to worry about." Nori murmured sarcastically.

Fili's head snapped up, his blue eyes gleaming with excitement. He drew in a deep breath and then starting laughing. "THANK YOU!"

Balin actually lifted his head to look at the young blond in surprise. "Huh? Lad?"

Kili smiled encouragingly at his sibling, but didn't seem to understand any more than the others. "What?"

The young blond prince threw back his head and laughed at himself, openly and loudly. "Stupid! I've been so blind!"

Kili's eyebrows rose in consternation and wonder. "Fili?"

Fili pointed at Thorin. "I have never gone unnoticed in my life. Maybe I've not been what someone wanted me to be, or even anyone they liked. But not unnoticed. I have been waiting for her to notice me. And …I need to think of her as a dragon instead."

Nori's face scrunched into a strained expression. "I don't …."

"She's hardly a dragon, lad." Balin chided weakly.

"No! No!" Fili grinned widely. "How did we go about killing the dragon?"

"We angered it and Bard shot it down." Kili responded dryly.

This did nothing to lower the blond's excitement, he turned and pointed a finger maniacally at his younger brother. "We had a PLAN! Battle plans. We had information! We had a burglar and a back way inside!"

"Oh dear." Balin huffed out quietly, his eyes seeking out Thorin's.

"I've been going about things all wrong!" Fili crowed as he headed for the door, his eyes lit with thoughts and ideas. He threw open the study door and stormed out quickly, leaving a stunned silence behind him.

Nori looked at Thorin, who was looking at Balin. Kili cleared his throat, but didn't know what to say. Finally Thorin sighed and looked up at the ceiling of his study. "Should we warn Erelinde?"

Nori snorted in amusement. "No. Chances are? She won't even notice."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman sneered at the cleverly inlaid decorations on the walls of his guest room. It was a comfortable space and filled with amenities. He knew well that Erebor's resources were stretched thinly, and yet the dwarves had not let any lack show in how they were treating him.

Fools.

The White Wizard was not happy. Here he was. Inside Erebor, just down the hall from the mixed-blood prince that he'd dearly love to slice open. Let that precious blood soak the tiles of his ancestral home.

But his own servant had proven the most foolish dwarf of all.

It had been bad enough that a wayward band of orcs and goblins had taken advantage of a chance encounter to try and assassinate the royal heirs. That had put everyone on edge. Now? With that blasted murder, things were even worse.

Everyone was on full alert. Watchful. Suspicious. Saruman wasn't sure of Galadriel and Celeborn's response to him right now. He'd been the one counseling for years that Sauron could not possibly return.

Did they still trust him?

Their trust was still tantamount. Saruman himself would be glad to do away with acting the friend and ally. But Sauron had made his wishes known and the wizard knew the timing was not yet right.

Brinarg needed to be taken care of, that was a surety. Saruman slowly stroked the arm of his chair in a sinister motion. Yet, another body would be off putting for his ultimate needs. Same with an unlikely disappearance. What he needed ….

His fingers stopped moving as an idea began to form.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Brorgic Grimbasher traced the lines on the map indicating the mining shafts under discussion. "These are bearing loads. Here …here, and again there. But they are compromised."

Bofur nodded at the older mining engineer. "If we replace these two immediately, I think we will be fine. But this last one …there's been a collection of acid water over here." He jabbed the map with one thick finger, referring to a build-up of sulfuric acid. "With no one to work the mine and keep an eye on the iron pyrites."

"They've weathered." Fergard Stormrune nodded slowly, agreeing. "That will need to be addressed before replacing the supports."

"And without the supports we cannot properly address the acid water." Grimbasher grumbled.

A hand came down cheerfully on Bofur's shoulder, pulling his attention. He smiled up at the crown prince of Erebor, with his blond mane of hair and meticulously groomed beard. "Well met, Fili. Can I do you for something?"

"Naw Bofur. Wanted to speak with Stormrune if I might."

Fergard's eyebrows shot up, and then he grunted and shook his head. "Been tried before lad, been tried by more dwarrow than I care to count. I have no say in my daughter's choices."

"Or lack of choices." Muttered Grimbasher with a small smile of commiseration.

"Fili, er …excuse me, Prince Fili would make a fine husband for any lucky dwarrowdam." Bofur spoke up cheerfully in support.

Stormrune held up his hands in surrender. "Of that I have no doubt. Only, my lass is of age and doesn't seek to marry."

"At least you know now she's not heading to be completely lost to ye." Brorgic Grimbasher added for his friend, knowing the dwarrow's relief to be without limits.

"Meaning, she isn't a True-Master in the making and CAN change her mind about marriage." Fili said leadingly, his smile meant to be engaging.

"Still her choice, lad." Admonished the father lightly, and without heat. He liked the prince and what he'd seen of him so far since their arrival in Erebor.

Fili slid over the bench in an effortless move and sat with the others. "Excuse me, but Erelinde doesn't know me well enough to reject my suit."

Grimbasher laughed at the expression on Fergard's face. "Laddie. Little Erelinde doesn't know anyone well enough to reject them. She is tied up with her craft."

"True." Fili seemed full of confidence as he leaned forward, propping one elbow on the table as he spoke. "So. I need her to get to know me. Then she can choose yes or no."

Fergard stared at the handsome young prince and felt …hopeless. He'd love for his daughter to marry and bring new life to the family. But no one had ever turned her head, not like that. She loved him and her friends, beyond that …all she could see was weaving and knot-work. "Lad …"

"I just want to know what she's like. What kind of things interest her, anything really." Fili seemed so earnest it was almost hard to watch.

Fergard winced. "Lad. I'm her da. I can't do that to her. She may be of age, but she's still my baby."

Beside him, his friend and colleague shifted in his seat. Brorgic shrugged mournfully. "Besides, what does a da know anyway? Think our daughters tell us much anymore? No. It's to their friends that they share things."

All of the men fell silent and turned to stare at Brorgic Grimbasher, who had the gall to wink at them. Though his expression didn't change.

Fili grinned, thanked him and ran off.

Fergard turned to glare at his long-time neighbor and friend. "You just sent him off to talk with Sealyn and Brunere, didn't you?"

"You couldn't help him. Maybe they can." Grimbasher shrugged lightly.

"Uhm."

Both of the newly arrived immigrants turned to look at Bofur, who appeared like he might be in pain. He held up his finger with a dot of blood as he started to rise. "Paper cut. I think I'll go …"

"Sit down, puppy." Grimbasher smiled in resignation. "The prince isn't interested in Brunere except for information."

Bofur's face flushed, as he hadn't known that the male knew of his interest in the kind dwarrowdam.

Fergard pulled at his beard lightly. "I still don't know if sending the prince off like that is a good idea. Or fair to Erelinde."

Grimbasher waved off the comment and poked the map on the table before them hard enough to make a sound. "This should be our only concern of the moment. As for sweet Erelinde, even if Fili learns all there is to know, it's no guarantee she'll even notice his efforts."

Fergard sighed. "True enough."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elladan's gray eyes widened a fraction as his son moved up beside him. Deliberately mocking, he looked around and didn't see even a glimpse of a red-haired she-elf.

"Very funny." Kili groused. "Now. Can you let me get on with courting?" He gritted his teeth so tightly it was audible. "Please."

"You're irritable." The tall elf said lightly. "How are your lungs?"

"Clear." Kili spat out the word, his dark eyes smoldering with temper. "Why? Why do you think you can ride into my life and take over?"

Elladan placed one long-fingered hand over his heart and bowed his head to his son. "I've apologized for that."

"Then stop doing it!" Snarled Kili. "I can't go anywhere with Tauriel unless we have someone with us!"

The tall elf's lips curved upwards very slightly. "Those are dwarven customs, not elven. I had little to do with it at all."

"You like it though!" Accused the young prince of two realms.

Elladan quirked a single eyebrow, and then had the gall to nod. "Yes."

Kili opened his mouth to shout, then groaned instead as he dropped his head forward. Staring at the ground in misery. "Why? Did your father do this to you?"

Startled, the elf lord shook his head. "No. But I was over two thousand years old."

"I'll never live that long." Kili pointed out with what he hoped passed for a reasonable tone. "Literally."

"Don't remind me." Elladan's eyes clouded at the thought of his son's passing, and how little time they'd actually have together. It may be several dwarven lifetimes, but to an elf it was too quick.

"I think I have to." Kili responded, and then sighed. "I'm not asking you to do anything, just …don't interfere."

"Again, I tell you that I'm not interfering. She braided her hair, you two exchanged beads. It's Dwarven customs. So are the chaperones." Elladan's smugness faded to a look bordering on sympathy. "Kuilaith. I am sorry. I do feel you are too young for what you are seeking."

"My body doesn't agree."

This stopped Elladan cold. His eyes widened and he drew in a shocked breath. "You're …wakening?"

Kili pursed his lips and thought about lying, but didn't want to go there. "Starting to waken. Itching a lot." Even mentioning it made him want to adjust himself. "Remember, Balin told us it was a clear signal."

"I remember Mr. Balin saying it 'could' mean something, but it would take time to get to know the person that you're interested in." Elladan said a bit primly.

The young male's chin immediately firmed and his father backtracked slightly. "But it is a good indicator for the future." He said rather vaguely. "If it gets painful I would urge you to seek out your Mr. Oin."

Kili nodded mutely and then shrugged. "It's not that bad." He admitted, almost willing it to intensify.

"I feel that I do need to apologize. Physically you carry both dwarven and elven blood, and this is a confusing enough time for any youth. But with the mixing of our two cultures …"

Kili started laughing, even though he really didn't find it funny at all. It was almost self-mockery. "Thorin always used to tell me that if there was an easy way and a hard way, that I'd always go the opposite way."

Elladan looked at him in a bit of confusion. "I'm afraid I'm not making sense of that."

His son rolled his shoulders a moment and jerked his head to the side, giving an audible crack that had the elf start for a moment. "It just means that I could be a bit wayward as dwa …er, child."

"You can say dwarfling."

"You don't like it though." Kili pointed out. He'd noticed.

Elladan lowered his head, acknowledging the comment as truth. "It was how you were raised."

Kili could hear the tightness entering the elf's tone and he grimaced a bit. He couldn't change what had happened in the past. Nor, if he were truthful, would he have given up growing up with Mam, Thorin and Fili. Not having a father to name had been difficult, but he couldn't imagine what it would have been like being raised in two separate cultures.

What kind of stories would he have told around the evening fires? Instead of tales of Thorin on the battlefield he'd have ….Kili's face blanked.

Elladan noticed immediately. "Kuilaith?"

"Uhm."

"Son?"

Kili winced. Here was Elladan, making an effort. Found out he had a child and rode across Arda to 'rescue' him. Staying on in a Dwarven kingdom where he was less than welcome, at least at first. Sure he was ungainly prim and proper when it came to courting, but …he wasn't so bad. Right?

What had he done for his father?

Elladan watched his son's face carefully, but could read nothing. What had he said or done wrong now? "Kuilaith?" Should he apologize, but for what? Was this still about Tauriel?

"I need to go." Kili said quickly, moving off even as he spoke.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Erelinde was lost within herself. Counting. Yet not. It wasn't a large piece she was working on, so there were only maybe two dozen bobbin pairs she was using. Her hands moved almost independently as she followed the pattern that she'd laid out meticulously yesterday.

Maybe yesterday.

She frowned as her fingers slowed. Had she promised someone she'd do something today? If today was even today. Oh dear. No. This was a small piece really. Delicate, but pretty basic. She shouldn't have missed an entire day. Where was her da? Had he eaten? Did she bake anything?

Music. Soft and lilting. Pleasant. Soothing. Erelinde smiled. Da was playing his fiddle. No. That wasn't right. He was in the mines working. Repairing. Because this wasn't home. Oh. New home.

Blinking, Erelinde's fingers stopped moving at the end of a row where she reached over and put a final pin in place. Well, not final final, as in the end final but for the day at least. Her neck was a bit stiff and her fingers were fine.

Looking around it hit her. Fresh brewed tea and bread. She saw the tray before she saw him. She stopped, staring.

Da wasn't playing his fiddle, it was someone else. Who? Her sky blue eyes blinked at him for a moment as if lost.

"Fili." He said quietly.

"I know." She told him, truthfully she did recognize him though it had taken a moment. "No crown because you're not used to it yet."

He smiled slowly at her and she blinked. "Are you trying to court me, because …"

"Feed you." He pulled his fiddle away from his chin and nodded toward the laden tray. "You've been up here all day."

Relief. She hadn't gone overnight again. Da would be happy at least. She smiled. Then stilled as he smiled right back at her with an easy going manner. Dimples flashed beneath his short styled beard. With beads in his mustache. "Do those get in the way when you try to eat?"

He laughed quietly and shook his head, unfolding a napkin for her. She took it without thought, thanking him.

"Do you go around feeding all your crafters?"

"Haven't had any before. Might be a good policy though." Fili dodged around her question. "Do you like sweetener?"

She looked at the time piece that had survived centuries and dragon attack. "I'm going to go back to my piece."

"After you eat, I hope." He smiled at her invitingly, gesturing toward a tall stool beside the rough table he must have dragged in here because it hadn't been here earlier. Had it? "What are you working on?"

Erelinde blinked. She wasn't blind nor stupid. Absent minded at times, but she knew when she was being played. Still. This one wasn't trying to impress her with stories of his battle or mining prowess. And he'd waited for her to come up out of her work on her own, not startle her by touching or loud noises. "How did you know I like fiddle music?"

"I asked." He handed her a small plate, and waved his hand over the tray indicating she could have first choice.

"You play nicely." She said rather absently as she looked over the selection of meats he'd brought up.

Fili watched her put together a reasonable lunch, mentally trying not to act foolishly in front of her.

Suddenly she blinked and looked up. "Who did you ask?"

"Brunere." Fili told her then tilted his head engagingly to the side. "Next time you see her, will you put in a good word for a friend of mine? He's a really good miner. Brave."

"I don't know him though." She said, a bit taken aback. This blond prince wasn't acting right. Usually she could dismiss any of the dwarrows away who came to distract her from her work. She looked over at her piece.

Fili saw her look and bit his tongue to keep from protesting. Instead he shrugged. "If you'd like to meet Bofur first, I can arrange that. He usually eats at the later meal, all the miners are working overtime to get everything safe. Your father is doing a great deal for Erebor."

Attention snagged, Erelinde smiled at the blond across from her. "Da is one of the best." She watched him for a moment, then smiled as she chuckled. "They don't get in the way when you eat, how do you manage?"

Fili shrugged. "Habit. How do you keep so many of those things straight?" He nodded over at her work.

The blond dam grinned. "This is only a small piece of lace trim. You should see the number of bobbins and pins I use for something larger."

"I look forward to it."

Erelinde blinked. Had she just invited him back? How had he managed to do that?

"I know you'll want to get back to your work after you eat. But I can come back before late supper to get you."

Sky blue eyes blinked again, and then narrowed suspiciously. "Did you just get me to agree to go to dinner with you?"

"To meet Bofur." He tried to look innocent.

She glared at him and he shrugged with a big grin. "Yes. I got you to agree to eat dinner with me. And to meet Bofur. For your friend's sake."

"You're sneaky." Erelinde took another few bites of her food. "I'm not looking to marry."

"How do you know? Have you ever actually tried to get to know anyone?" He knew she hadn't. "And how do you know that I'm even respectable? I could just be looking to take advantage."

A burst of laughter and all of a sudden she relaxed a bit. "With my da around? I don't think so."

"I'm a prince. Crown prince actually. Went on a quest against a dragon. Do you think a miner scares me?" Fili put his hands on his chest as if astonished she thought so little of him.

Her smile grew. "Fool." She shook her head at him. Then frowned. "Did you see the dragon?"

Fili's expression faded and he looked down at his plate. A mental image of Smaug raining fire down upon Lake Town filtered through his head. "Not a good topic when flirting."

Erelinde paused, considering. "Most dwarrow try to regale me with their battle prowess."

"I can do that if you want." Fili shrugged at her, his smile returning. "But battles aren't what the stories say. There is bravery and courage, yes. But there's blood and loss and destruction too."

The blond dwarrowdam stared at him for a long moment, sensing there was more to this one than she'd originally thought. She traced the braids in his hair, the beads. All of that told her much about him. But not everything. If she stopped to think about it, this was a bad idea. She wasn't good with interacting with others. Still. There was something about him. "What song will you play tonight to bring me out of my work before dinner?"

Fili breathed out a relieved breath. "Do you have a favorite?" He asked her eagerly.

Her blue eyes narrowed on his. "I'm only doing this to meet this Bofur friend of yours."

"Obviously." He grinned at her, wondering if it was too soon to let her know that he could kiss without his mustache braids getting in the way. He looked at her as she peeked at him as if trying to figure him out. Yes. Too soon. But he had made progress at least.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Glorfindel paused as he reached for the bookshelf. Someone was coming. He didn't turn, instead he just let his senses tighten even as he continued perusing the titles before him.

"The last time I came in here I nearly choked to death."

The elven hero quirked a single eyebrow and turned. "Kuilaith. Looking for more Elvish to practice?" He teased.

The young prince grimaced and shrugged, looking a bit tense.

"Is something the matter?" Glorfindel asked curiously. He ran his eyes down the young prince, noting he looked healthy at least. "Or are you looking for advice in wooing a pretty young elf maiden?"

Dark eyes sharpened at that and Kili's whole countenance brightened. "Yes. I mean, no. That's not why I'm here, but keep that in mind if you would. Please. I'd like that too."

Surprised, Glorfindel turned toward the youth just as a particular book title caught his attention. "Ah! Vela's poetry! I had wondered if any copies had survived for so long."

"A friend of yours?" Kili asked politely.

"Once." The golden-haired warrior sounded sad for a moment, but then the mood passed as he smiled over at the young prince. "Now. If not for advice, what did you seek me out for? I do assume you were looking for me to come all the way back into the library that tried to kill you once before?"

Chuckling, Kili shrugged. "I need a story."

Glorfindel's eyes slid around each bookshelf and he spread his arms out wide to indicate the entirety of the collection. "Take your pick."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"By Nain's Bearded Ass." Thorin stared as he watched his elder sister-son escort a certain lovely young dwarrowdam to the head table.

More than one dwarrow did a double take as Fili sat Erelinde at his side and began introducing her around.

Balin grinned beneath his heavy white beard. "He did get her to notice."

"Now if he can keep it." Thorin grinned as the two of them neared the table. "Keep your seats." He commanded as all made to rise as the king arrived. Late supper was far more informal than any meal in his grandfather's time.

He smiled at the group. Fili and his dam. Kili. Bofur and Bifur. Gloin had retired already, but Oin was with them. Nori had slipped back out to his tavern, or so he'd said. Glorfindel and the Lady Arwen, seated with the two leaders from Lothlorien as well as both twin elf lords. And a wizard. Thorin dipped his head in Saruman's direction, more out of respect for Gandalf than for this male. There was something cold about this particular wizard and Thorin wasn't sure he'd ever warm up to him like he had Gandalf.

"Damn." He muttered only to himself. And arriving just after he did was Himlis, Gresol and Risil. He smiled at them, but that smile was full of deadly promise if they tried anything new. He didn't trust a single one of them.

Kili frowned over at the new arrivals and very deliberately reached into his leather tunic and pulled out a rough, plain stone. Putting it down on the table in front of him.

Thorin grinned. It was the stone that the Lady Galadriel had gifted to him, well to Fili as well, that would warn them of danger. He wondered if Elvish magic would recognize the danger of a concoction meant to wake up a dwarf before his time? Doubtful.

Talk at the table was a bit subdued. The Blacklocks had been caught in their schemes, and although new arrangements for trade had been hammered out, it was a bit straining to casual conversation.

Fili was in his element though, Thorin was pleased to see. And the shy beauty was proving to be quick witted as she joked with Bofur. Good. Good.

Large platters of meats and vegetables arrived, steaming and smelling wonderful. Long loaves of bread and thick honey butter as well as what looked like a monstrous salad made pretty much solely for their Elvish guests.

Thorin choked back a laugh as Elladan offered the salad to Kili, who turned up his nose at it. "Where's Tauriel?"

The young male made a face and shrugged. "Patrolling with Dwalin. I think he did it to spite me."

"What did you do to him?" Erelinde asked curiously.

"Fili put him on tour guide duty." Kili grinned over at the Blacklock heiress who made no comment, only turned up her nose. "Apparently he didn't like that."

"But, if Fili did that why would this Dwalin punish you?" The pretty blonde asked, feeling a bit lost.

Balin laughed. "Because that's his way. Besides, hurt one of these two brothers and the other hurts too. That's our Fili and Kili."

The meal continued without event and conversations ebbed and waned around them. Thorin settled in comfortably. Even the presence of the elves didn't intrude on his current good mood.

Repairs were going well. Fili was healing and had garnered the notice of Erelinde. Kili was courting, and staying in line basically. Best? The damned Blacklocks were leaving. Now. If Mordor would only stay quiet and Sauron would go away, all would be perfect.

A new keg arrived at the table as the meal wound down. Balin patted his stomach and lifted his mug, ready to begin telling stories.

Kili leaned forward, licking his lips. "May I go first?"

Balin's eyebrows rose and he nodded. A story about Thorin would be a grand way to start the evening.

Kili closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip, for all the world looking nervous. Balin blinked over at him. What was wrong?

"I am Kili, son of Dis and sister-son and second heir of King Thorin, King Under the Mountain. But I am also known as Kuilaith, son of Elladan and this is a story of my father and a battle called Birison's Field."

Stunned silence fell over the table. Kili was a natural storyteller, and his voice modulated smoothly as he recited the tale of a surprise orc skirmish up along the Northern Borders.

Balin's eyes flew to Thorin's, who was looking shocked. Fili's eyes were bright and round and he was staring at his brother as if unsure how to respond.

All dwarvish eyes moved down the table to Elladan, who was looking pale and almost shaky as the story unfolded.

Elrohir was looking down and Balin was having trouble seeing how he was reacting. But when the twin finally looked up, there was a gleam in his eyes that looked suspiciously moist.

Celeborn's face was a mask, but beside him the Lady Arwen was grinning from ear to ear. Galadriel was simply smiling and watching.

Kili's story drew to a close and he lifted his mug of ale, and everyone around the table did the same. Well, not really. Balin noted sourly that the Blacklocks deliberately did not touch their glasses. Rudely refusing to partake in honoring the elf.

Thorin hesitated, but a glance at Kili's face had the dwarven uncle grab his mug almost defiantly. This seemed to be a signal and everyone else took up their mugs and glasses as well. Even Saruman lifted his wine and nodded at the elf lord.

Kili was starting to take the first drink when Erelinde leaned close to Fili. "Why is that stone glowing?" She asked in a whisper.

Fili reacted without thought, knocking his brother's hand away and yelling at everyone to stop. All eyes turned in shock upon him, but he was pointing at the warning stone.

It was glowing a sickly green.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	31. In which Saruman takes steps

"HOLD!" The roared command came from the authoritative core of a wizard, the voice magnified beyond what is physically possible to echo throughout the extremely large stone chamber.

Everyone froze for a moment, taken by surprise. Every eye turned toward the deceptively slender frame of Saruman the White. His countenance was fiercely determined and etched with concern. The staff in his hands glowed brightly enough to make both Elves and Dwarves blink.

Thorin held still, his fist twisting the neck of Gresol Blacklock's tunic to the point that the dour dwarf was having a hard time breathing.

"He did not do this." Saruman spoke into the silence, looking at the dwarven king.

Thorin's chin rose, his blue eyes flashing. He didn't like being called out, or spoken to like a dwarfling. "I am aware."

This gave everyone pause as Fili stood with a blade in each hand, his boots on the table as he glared down at Himlis Blacklock whose own blades were out in order to protect his sister. "Uncle?"

Kili, his bow not with him for dinner at home, had a lethally sharp blade himself and was ready to throw himself on top of any enemy that moved. He fairly radiated with energy and the need to draw blood.

Saruman quirked up a single eyebrow as he watched the King Under the Mountain and his struggling victim. "Then why attack him?"

"He may not have done whatever has been put in the ale." Thorin's voice was far calmer than the picture he presented should be. He sneered down at Gresol's reddening face. "But he drew a blade upon me."

Saruman's eyes flicked to the sword lying at Thorin's feet.

"Or he was simply looking to defend himself." Risil Blacklock spoke up, stepping out from behind her brother, a small throwing axe in her right hand. "A stone starts glowing and everyone starts shouting about the ale being poisoned. We are the most likely targets of your ire."

Fili eyed Himlis, and the Blacklock eyed him back. Neither stepped away from the edge of possible violence. Yet both held back, for the moment.

Glorfindel held up the stone in question, having picked it up off the table. "This glows a warning of danger. It glows over Kuilaith's mug, as well as that of his brother." He demonstrated as he moved his hand cupping the rough stone over the table. The sickly green glow never wavered even as he walked down the length of the table, moving from mug to mug. The glow only intensified as it neared the newly opened keg of ale at the far end. Here the golden-haired warrior stopped.

Kili bared his teeth, his eyes glued to Himlis and any possible move the Blacklock leader might make. His blade caught the light, gleaming dangerously, made even more so from the determination shining out of his dark eyes.

Gresol groaned something unintelligible, his breathing highly labored as his hands scrambled to try and get Thorin to allow air into his starving lungs.

The king hesitated, then with a curse dropped the choking dwarrow at his feet. Gasping for air, the Blacklock elder laid back, staring up at the vaulted stone ceiling.

Risil Blacklock batted her khol darkened eyes with mockery, a sneer on her pretty lips. "Our mugs are poisoned as well." She pointed out.

Fili growled, making Himlis' already alert eyes narrow in preparation to move if made necessary. His grip on his weapon tightened. "None of you picked up your mugs to drink." The blond prince hissed.

Risil rolled her rather expressive eyes. "And honor an Elf? No. But how were we to know that the first familial story of the night would be from the mongrel?" Her tone dripped with disdain.

A blade clanged down at the heiress' feet, making her jump back with a small shriek. Eyes turned to Kili, but he still held his blade. All gazes then moved to Fili, who was drawing a new second blade to fill his left hand. The first one he'd had now at Risil's feet. No one mistook his gesture for a miss. It had been a warning only.

Kili smiled darkly.

Balin cleared his throat. "I would not think an elven spell meant to detect danger would react to a potion made from thorn apple and darkroot. One designed to awaken a dwarven response and lead to children."

Glorfindel's lips curled disdainfully.

"Poison." Lady Arwen carefully sniffed one of the mugs still on the table, lifting it to her nose. "Not something I recognize."

"A dark gift for all at the table. Elves, Dwarves, and even visitors." Balin continued balefully.

Saruman kept his voice deliberately calm, not letting any of his impatience show, as he tried to steer the suspicion. "King Thorin, you are already investigating one odd death within your home, are you not?"

"You think these might be related?" Lord Celeborn walked slowly around the table, as if examining the area and committing it all to memory. He made mental note of whom had been sitting where, and all other small details that might prove to be important.

Galadriel turned her head to look piercingly at Glorfindel. "If the king would allow, take the stone and check the kitchens, pantries, and storerooms for ales and wines."

"Fili? Take Bofur and Bifur with you, accompany Glorfindel. Be thorough." Thorin ordered.

The blond prince scowled, but nodded grimly. He stepped back from the edge of attacking the Blacklock warrior, though keeping a wary eye on the foreign dwarrow.

Himlis loosened his grip on his war axe, stepping back toward his sister as Gresol finally managed to climb unsteadily to his feet. "We are owed an apology."

Thorin's temper slapped outward as he glared at the Blacklock leader. "You were under suspicion because you've already tried a potion on me once during your visit. We owe you nothing."

Risil blinked lazily at him then gave him a sultry smile. "You would have enjoyed it." She promised.

Thorin's grip on his blade tightened as he glared at her. "Maybe. You would have died though. Before becoming queen, I would have gifted you with a necklace made of your own blood."

The dark-haired heiress blinked rapidly at him, her smile fading around the edges. "A chance at a son of your own means nothing to you? Letting your kingdom pass through tainted blood? What has become of the vaunted pride of the Longbeards?"

Fili's blue eyes sparked with anger and the need to draw blood, only keeping from moving forward by a look from his uncle and king. Thorin flicked his eyes toward Kili and the crown prince frowned, though he obediently moved to drop down next to his younger brother. Meaning to keep him in line if the dark-haired prince lost his temper.

"Better the pride of the Longbeards than the deviousness of the Blacklock." Balin spoke up in his quiet manner.

"That mixed-blood abomination should be sent out of Erebor." Risil pressed her luck. "Keep the other if you must, though they are entirely too close. You might pass your throne to a dwarrow of good standing, but would he? Even a week here and we have noted their closeness."

Fili put his hand on his brother's shoulder, though Kili had made no move nor any sound. He could sense the skyrocketing temper within him, knowing his sibling as he did. "Careful." He whispered, though the word could have been for the Blacklocks, Thorin or Kili. Even for himself.

"Your heir is unnaturally attached to one of impure blood. And seeks the company of a pretty face with nothing behind it." Gresol coughed, glaring at King Thorin, his voice raspier than usual. "Is that how you would have your crown prince thinking? He shows nothing of what is needed to rule."

Fili's fingers tightened on Kili's shoulder, though he refused to look behind him at Erelinde.

Bifur and Bofur stood on either side of the white-blond beauty, their countenance's stony and unmoved. Erelinde watched without speaking, her sky-blue eyes looked distressed but not overly so. Thorin grunted, pleased she wasn't panicking or speaking foolishly. He didn't know her well enough to form a real opinion, not yet. But by damned if he'd let the Blacklocks run down any of the Longbeard.

"I have no problems with Fili, nor his choices. Any of them." Thorin threw forward his support. He stopped short of saying anything directly about the Stormrune dam. She might not be the right choice for Fili to court, but that was a discussion for another time and not in front of enemies.

Thorin's support settled both of his nephews for the moment. "Kili? Go with Bofur and Glorfindel. Search for any more danger in our supplies. Fili, take Bifur and Balin. Escort the Blacklocks outside the walls tonight. They will not spend another night beneath this mountain."

Elrohir stirred deliberately, pulling Thorin's attention. He blinked over at the elven warrior. "I have no authority to give you orders."

"We would help, if allowed." Elladan offered cautiously, unsure how the dwarven king would take the gesture.

Thorin paused, indecision warring within him. Finally he grunted. "One with Kili and the other with Fili." It wasn't an order, more of a request. One that had the Blacklocks stiffening.

"You would trust them?" Hemlis sounded outraged. "I heard they rode across Arda and took your heir prisoner."

"Not quite." Balin sniffed and shrugged. "And they never would have poisoned Kuilaith's ale." He deliberately used the Elvish name for the dark-eyed prince.

"Go." Thorin ordered gruffly.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Sealyn Heavyaxe twisted her mouth first one way, and then the other. She peered out into the darkness of the tunnel, and then over at her companion. "Am I supposed to find this interesting?"

Nori opened the door to the small lantern he carried and deliberately blew out the only light.

The dwarrowdam froze. Nerves tingled along her skin. She wasn't alarmed, not really. Not with danger, but with ….anticipation? An edge of temper? She'd thought a bit better of the ginger-haired dwarrow who'd invited her down into this portion of the mines. "Original." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Nori smiled, not that she could see him. Despite what she was obviously thinking, he had not brought her down below to find a bit of privacy. Instead he reached into one of his numerous hidden pockets and pulled out an egg shell. "Watch."

Sealyn blinked in surprise. Not that blinking did any good. There was no lingering after image from their lantern and down here, there was no light for her eyes to adjust to at all. Complete and utter darkness surrounded her completely.

She listened as he did something, moved his hands over his leathers. Damn it. If he were undressing she had misread him sorely and the disappointment would be crushing. Silently she waited, ready to move if necessary.

Then came an odd cracking sound, almost a crunch. Then the darkness changed. Small sparks of light gave off small flares like those of lightning bugs, though there were no such insects this deep in the mines of Erebor.

Uncut gems, caught along the walls. Her mind supplied the answer, even as her eyes marveled at what looked like stars twinkling in the night sky. Only, she wasn't looking up at the night, she was IN it. Sealyn's breath caught with wonder as she watched the lights dance and reflect from unpolished, uncut facets in unpredictable ways.

"Small spellcraft." Nori's voice sounded pleased and a bit awed all at the same time. "My friend Bofur says they use these to help pinpoint good pockets and that when they checked down here, it was …"

"Beautiful." Sealyn breathed out in delighted wonder.

"I know the main focus of the miners is to bring up functional metals, at least at first." Nori said, whispering. Not from the need to be quiet for stealth, but because it was a shared moment he didn't wish to end. "But I wanted to show you that your work as a gem cutter will be soon much needed."

Sealyn smiled, running the pads of the thumbs over her fingertips as she fought the urge to try and pry some of these lovelies from their beds within the earth. "I don't mind helping to clean up Erebor. It was my grandparent's home. My father was born here. I have dreamed about this place."

"And dreamed of this?" Nori asked, spreading out his arms to encompass the area though she could not see him well in the midst of the small dancing lights.

"No." The dwarrowdam admitted ruefully. "I did not dream of this, it would have been too much to hope for."

"I never dreamed of this either." The dwarrow admitted, his chest tightening with a need he did not bother to examine too closely. Though he wasn't watching the lights, he was watching what little he could see of her face and expression. "I'm not exactly a catch."

Sealyn bit her lip. She knew what he spoke of, having asked around about the clever dwarf who'd caught her eye. "You and the king have quarreled."

Nori found he did not like her thinking that of him, but a lifetime of keeping his own council stilled his tongue. "Nothing major." He qualified.

"King Thorin does owe you, though I will admit that I understand why he needs to focus on rebuilding Erebor before paying out what he owes his Company." Sealyn chose her words with care, not wanting to offend. "Do you doubt he will live up to his contracts?"

Nori found himself in an awkward position, not wanting to lie. Not here. Not with the lights of the gems creating their own form of magic around the duo. "It's a difficult topic." He hedged.

"Though, I can understand why you want to assure that the king will live up to his word." Sealyn sounded hesitant now. "I've heard a few tales on how he was ….after Erebor was retaken."

The red-bearded dwarrow scowled and closed his eyes. "Memories of that time are darker than this tunnel." He admitted slowly. "But the King is himself again, and we all delight in that."

"Good." Sealyn stopped with that one word, unsure. Nori sounded as if he liked the king, admired him. That it had hurt him deeply to see him sunk into dragon sickness. Yet. He did not stand with the others, choosing to live in a human town instead. "I will not ask more." She offered.

Nori smiled grimly, even as the small flickering lights started to fade. He fumbled to relight the lantern. When they could see properly again, he gifted her with a smile. "I do nothing, not now or ever, that would be against King Thorin. Even if we argue. Though I would ask that you say nothing of me or my motives, to any."

Sealyn stopped and stared at him.

Nori shrugged lightly. "I am a private sort."

A clever sort. Sealyn reckoned. She didn't know what was going on here in Erebor. Nor was it any of her business. "Perhaps your privacy would be better served if you chose different companions."

An offer for her to leave him be. Nori closed his eyes and shuddered for a second, actually considering that this would be the wisest choice. "Please, don't." The words were unbidden.

The dwarrowdam eyed him carefully, and gave him a small nod.

"I have to tell you though, I would take advantage down here in the darkness." He deliberately turned the subject.

Sealyn's eyes widened a bit as she went along with the topic change. Inwardly she shelved the many questions she had about this particular dwarrow. "How so?"

"A kiss?" He asked hopefully, knowing she would turn him down.

"Too soon." The dwarrowdam gave him a look on the rather stern side.

Nori tried to look disappointed, which in truth he was a bit, still …he pulled her into something lesser as he'd originally intended. "Then will you allow me to hold your hand as we rejoin the upper levels?"

Sealyn wasn't sure. This chat they'd had down here had left her feeling unsettled. The lighting of the gemstones had been clever and romantic, though not too much. He was being respectful and thoughtful. But. He had secrets.

Nori watched her as thoughts flowed over and around her, waiting for her to make up her mind. He didn't find himself holding his breath for her answer, but it came close. Closer than he'd thought. Nervous, he continued to gaze upon her. Down here, the inky darkness of her braids disappeared into the background of the tunnel walls. Leaving only her face illuminated really, with the small crystals in her short ruff of a beard catching the lantern's light. It was a becoming sight.

"My telling you how beautiful you look down here, is not meant to influence your decision." He said softly.

"No?" Sealyn asked, her hazel eyes watching him as carefully as he watched her.

"No." Nori said firmly. "It's like saying grass is green and stone is hard. They are simply facts."

Blushing slightly, Sealyn took a steadying breath. "A hand would be helpful to keep from falling."

The ginger-haired dwarf nodded in acknowledgement, he had caught the distinction. She would allow him to hold her hand up out of the mine tunnel. But she had reservations about anything more romantic. Yet it wasn't a refusal.

Nori held out his hand for her. He'd take what he could get. And one day soon, hopefully, he could hold more of her.

Sealyn weighed the moment most carefully, but decided to trust her instincts. Nori seemed a clever type, possibly too clever. Someone with whom truth was not made of metal, but of something far more pliable. And yet …with her, he was trying to be as honest as he could. Or so it seemed. She'd hold off on any decision about courting. But for this moment?

Her hand rose to meet his.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The gathering in Thorin's private study was tense as people arrived. The king watched the room fill to hold more than they had seats for. No one complained.

"Dwalin?" The king asked.

"Still on patrol." Gloin pointed out, a scowl on his face.

"Nori?"

Hesitation. Gloin looked pointedly at the elves in the room. Only to shrug as Thorin shook his head and pointed toward him. "Not at his tavern."

Glorfindel stirred, intrigued. Why was the king calling for a dwarrow who had ostensibly been arguing with him for some time now?

Bofur pushed back the brim of his hat. "Mines. He's in the mines."

Balin sputtered and shook his head. "Hardly the place for him!"

Bofur shrugged and did not elaborate, he looked over at his brother Bombur who was looking decidedly worried. "The stone could find no other trace of poison within our food or drink supplies."

Thorin growled, pacing with his hands clasped behind his back. "Our guests?" There was venom in his voice at the moment.

Fili grinned as he cleaned a blade that did not have a single blemish upon it already. His eyes gleamed a rich blue as he sheathed the dagger with a smooth motion. "Outside. Mad as wet hens and squawking loudly about mistreatment."

"Did you mistreat them, laddie?" Balin asked suddenly.

Fili shrugged. "Not a single bruise on them, much as I would have liked." At Balin's pointed look, the blond smiled without remorse. "They insulted us all at one point or another, and tried something vile against Uncle Thorin. A bruise or two hardly seemed enough, so I let them be."

Gloin snorted in agreement, crossing his arms as he leaned against one wall.

"Wise." Saruman said smoothly, none of his thoughts showing in his vocal tone.

"Bofur? Find Nori. Put him on this." Thorin ordered gruffly. The hatted dwarf left wordlessly.

Glorfindel blinked lazily. Oh yes. There was something definitely beneath the surface. "A suggestion?"

A pause as the dwarven king turned to stare at the only elf he'd even thought to call friend. He knew that the golden-haired warrior had pledged to aid him, to lend him his strength if ever needed. He'd only never thought he'd have to need such. He nodded brusquely.

"The poison found is a virulent one, a few of us might have survived if we'd noted that the first to drink were in sudden agony and did not drink for ourselves." Glorfindel began coolly. "And dwarves are quick to gulp down ale when in the midst of telling stories."

Elladan shifted slightly at the memory of the story told, but settled quickly.

"You think the primary target to be we dwarrow?" Balin nodded thoughtfully, he'd already considered that.

"The best targets would be the king and his heirs. Not just the direct heirs." Lord Celeborn spoke up quietly from where he sat listening. "If I am not mistaken."

Thorin stirred with sudden anger. "After Fili and Kili, the heir would be Dain. Who is not here."

Balin sighed unhappily. "But we have heard that there was talk that Dain should inherit. Which he would do if you three are deceased."

Thorin's frown deepened and he fairly rumbled with anger. "No."

"I agree. I think." Lord Celeborn sounded almost bored. "It seems unlikely. Another possibility is to leave Erebor without an effective leader, especially as this Dain is not here."

Blue eyes closed as anger dipped into freezing temperatures. "Mordor?"

Saruman shrugged lightly. "Doubtful, but again …possible."

"Blacklocks. Mordor. Dain's people." Kili rubbed his head anxiously. "Who else?"

Thorin's attention snagged as he watched his younger nephew, but he held silent for the moment. Instead he rolled his tense shoulders. "Elves." He said deliberately.

Kili's eyes widened with distress, but he was saved from responding as Lord Celeborn shook his head. "Not we."

"Doubtful." Thorin agreed. "But possible."

"Too many suspects, not enough information." The elven leader from Lothlorien commented.

"Your guard needs to double, if not more." Glorfindel drew out his words slowly. "But who to trust? Not Blacklocks, surely. Dain's people?"

Thorin groaned, rubbing the back of his neck in agitation. "You're offering yourself." It wasn't really a question.

"I am."

"We are hardly going to cower in fear within our own home!" Fili stood, his voice fierce and his gaze nearly burning. Kili looked equally as affronted.

"We dwarves can protect our own." Gloin protested.

"And how was the poison detected?" Glorfindel slid in the reminder smoothly, his eyes partly closed. "Not by dwarven means."

Elladan stirred. "I believe the main targets to be King Thorin and his nephews."

"Agreed." Balin leaned forward, watching the elves carefully. "You are offering to guard them all?"

"At least for this night." Elrohir continued for his twin brother. "Until you can find more information on who might have done this."

"No." Fili said, moving his hand in a flat motion at waist level. He shook his head emphatically. "I need no guard."

"You'll take one." Thorin said wearily, drawing shocked looks from both of his sister-sons.

"Uncle!" Protested Kili, looking like he wanted to say much on the subject.

Thorin shook his head and walked over, putting his hand on the dark-haired prince's shoulder. "Did we or did we not place watch around our camp each and every night on the journey here?"

Kili fell silent, his eyes dropping in confusion.

Fili ground his teeth together and shook his head in denial. "It's not the same."

"Is it not?" Thorin intoned almost gently, moving his hand to the back of Kili's to grip his hair. He gave the younger dwarrow a small shake meant to denote care and closeness. "Poison came too close to your lips tonight. Mine as well."

"Uncle …" It was a plea.

Thorin turned to look at Fili, moving away from one sister-son to the other. He grasped both of the blond's shoulders, squeezing the rock hard muscles beneath the thick leathers. Blue eyes met blue eyes. The younger looked down first.

"You will obey me in this."

"Did you have guards when you were the prince?" Kili asked in a low voice, fighting against the indignity.

Thorin actually laughed, pulling a few chuckles from those of the Company around them.

Balin nodded and pointed at the king. "He did, and he hated it."

"Sometimes. And yes. It chaffed." Thorin shook his head. "It's unavoidable. You two are in line for the throne. That's not some vague idea anymore, not like it was in Ered Luin. This is your new reality. You are both targets now, and will remain such."

"Tauriel and Erelinde?" Fili asked, his stomach turning over at the horrid thought.

The king nodded sagely. "Tauriel is with Dwalin, and she is well guarded in and of herself. But yes, a possible target." He looked sorrowfully over at Fili. "Any dam you pay the slightest bit of mind to will instantly become marked."

"Not just for violence." Balin added as gently as he could. "But for those who would seek to gain your ear through her."

Fili shook his head in mute despair.

"Oh. I know it's not gone that far with her lad." Balin looked so apologetic. "It's simple politics."

"She doesn't even think she should let me see her." Fili felt the bile rise in his throat as he groaned. "None of this will make it any better."

Thorin nodded. He understood, he really did. But there was nothing he could do to make this any easier. "You are my direct heir. Good or bad, there will be always those seeking to gain an advantage, an ear, a voice, anything to influence either you or me."

"Damn." Kili sounded despondent for his brother, his dark eyes positively melting with empathy.

Fili groaned and sighed. "I need to speak with her. To explain. Warn her." He swallowed heavily. "She may not want to see me again."

Thorin watched his sister-son's with genuine regret. He had done this to them, bringing them home like this. The good overruled the bad, but it didn't make living this life any easier.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman stopped outside of the guest room appointed to the elven couple beside him. "This business is disturbing." He said as mildly as possible.

"Yes." Galadriel breathed out the word in her way, her thoughts hidden from him.

Lord Celeborn bowed his head. "I fear this originates with Mordor. It would be the next logical move after sending an army against the newly reclaimed kingdom."

The golden-haired she-elf seemed to be staring off into the distance.

This worried Saruman some. Of all the elves he dealt with, this was the one he feared the most. Well, not feared. Not as such. But one to which he had to be the most careful lest he be found out.

Elves were naught to him. First born? Bah. He was a wizard and beyond all of that nonsense. Elves were clever creatures, but easily deceived as they believed in the truth of that which was said about them. Hear you are wise, and you began to trust in your own wisdom. Thus it went from a virtue to a fatal flaw.

"I will rest on this." Saruman bowed to the couple, taking his leave as he headed to his own rooms.

It never occurred to him that he too was considered wise. What we see as flaws in others, we are often blind to in ourselves. He knew that, of course. Academically at least.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili watched his brother storm off toward the crafting halls with Elladan keeping up with him. It gave him a bit of an odd feeling that his father chose to guard Fili, rather than himself.

He glanced over at the two remaining elves. Glorfindel and Elrohir were off to the side, speaking in hushed whispers.

Kili walked over to where Thorin was speaking just as privately with Gloin and Balin. Those three fell silent as he approached and he wondered what they'd been speaking on. Though from the nervous look he was getting from Balin, and the closed appearance of Gloin, he could garner a guess. "Didn't like my story?" He said, his chin jutting out a bit stubbornly.

Thorin eyed him carefully and then shook his head. "Wondering at your reason."

Kili glanced behind him at the elves, they still seemed preoccupied. "Never have gotten a chance to tell a story about my father before." He circumvented the real reason.

Balin immediately looked a bit proud, nodding. Gloin even met his gaze for a moment, giving a terse half-frown. "Thorin is your da."

The king glanced at his red-bearded cousin and gave a small grimace. "I've taught both lads exactly who I am. I raised them. But I am their uncle and king."

"There were more private ways to tell such a story, without being so …" Gloin hesitated, then clenched his jaw. "Public." He bit out the word.

Thorin wasn't sure exactly how he felt about Kili starting to tell battle stories of pride and admiration about his elvish father. He did feel the bite of it down to his marrow, but he also knew the lad had been feeling the lack of a father for as long as he could remember.

"It needed to be public." Avowed young Kili, looking a bit rebellious. "To show him …" He stopped there, blushing.

Gloin shook his head. "It won't make the elf any more amenable to your running around with your lass without a proper chaperone." He groused.

Kili ground his teeth together, but didn't respond aloud. Which made Thorin think his sister-son's motives were something else entirely. "Never mind."

Elrohir moved toward him finally and Kili hunched his shoulders slightly. "What are your plans before heading to your room?"

"He's done for the night." Thorin remarked, then stilled as Kili shot him an angry look full of hurt. "What?"

"It needed to be told." Kili hissed, his formidable temper obviously rising. Dark eyes bored into the king as the younger dwarrow advanced on him. "I shouldn't have to explain myself, not on this, not to you."

Thorin knew Kili. From the almost invisible scar on his left foot to the mass of hair that refused to be fully tamed. He could read his sister-son's expression as easily as an elf could read a footprint in their haunted woods. An explosion was building. Forestalling the moment, Thorin stepped forward and put both of his hands on either side of Kili's face, turning his head very slightly to meet his own gaze. "Shut up."

The dark-haired prince opened his mouth and Thorin pressed his hands together slightly, giving just enough pressure for Kili to feel he was serious. His mouth closed.

Thorin grunted in satisfaction. "I am not angry with you for telling a story. You have done me no disservice and have not lessened how I feel about you, not one little drop."

"You are …" Kili started, only to have his uncle growl. He wisely shut his mouth again.

"Surprised. You surprised me, but you meant to do that. What hurts is that you didn't trust me enough to tell me what you were planning on doing."

Now Kili's expression went from anger and hurt to immediate consternation and regret. Mercurial mood changes were part of his youngest sister-son. "Uncle …"

Thorin smiled sadly and shook his head. "I have not told you to speak yet."

Kili bit his bottom lip and nodded, even with his uncle's hands still on either side of his face.

"Do not think that I am unaware that as hard as all of this is for me, for your brother, and your cousins, that we do not know how deep a wound this all must be for you."

Dark eyes dropped, a fan of thick lashes covering his gaze. Thorin's voice gentled as he leaned in. "Kili."

The youth didn't answer, so the uncle let his face go and grabbed him in a huge hug. One arm holding him tightly, the other hand rising so his hand could press the back of Kili's head down to rest on his shoulder. A single moment of prideful resistance, and then it melted like so much rain.

Kili grabbed him back, holding hard and fast. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Never." Vowed the older male. "Never."

Finally Thorin pulled back enough to look into Kili's eyes. "You can do nothing more this night. First light. My study."

"My king."

Thorin grinned proudly down at the beloved face of his younger sister-son. "Yes I am. Now get out."

Laughing, Kili pulled back and headed for the door with a nod toward Balin and Gloin. He didn't bother to check to see if his elvish uncle was following, he didn't need to.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili eyed the door to Erelinde's room, sighing when he saw no dwarrow guards. He turned away immediately.

Elladan paused, then pointed silently at the door. Fili shook his head. "She's not there."

The elf lord tilted his head slightly in query, but gamely followed Fili as the young dwarrow made for the stairways that would lead up into the crafting halls.

It came as no surprise to Fili to see two guards at the steps, he knew without asking there would be more once he got upstairs.

"She went back to her loom?" Elladan asked, a bit surprised.

Fili shrugged. "Lace doesn't use a loom. She was working on a lace piece earlier and I have a feeling that's where she's gone back."

An odd expression filled the elf's face before quickly moving away. Attention caught, the blonde gave him a questioning look. "What?"

Elladan did not answer right away, and it was only at the top of the first flight of stairs that he paused. "Is she what you are looking for in a queen?"

Fili gave his second-father an amused look. "Why? Because she went back to crafting after an assassination attempt?"

The elf lord's gray eyes seemed a bit lost as he nodded. "Well, yes."

"It's what is comfortable and normal for her, what would you have her do? Try and hunt down the ones responsible?" Fili looked around a bit sarcastically. "Where are Galadriel and Arwen?"

Elladan sighed, but played along. "The Lady is with her husband and the wizard, more than likely seeking answers for today's events. Arwen, well, she is probably thinking about anything she might have seen or heard that would be of help."

"And Erelinde can't do this while creating lace?" Fili asked pointedly.

Elladan shrugged weakly and followed his adopted son up toward the crafting halls, though with great reservations.

"What?"

"I asked no other question." The tall elf looked over at Fili as they moved up the final staircase.

"I can hear you thinking. Don't know what you're thinking, but I can tell that you are." Fili pointed out. He waved at the two guards standing outside the room that Dori had appointed for Erelinde's use. But he made no move to enter, not yet.

"She's very …pretty." Elladan offered cautiously.

Fili grinned. "Yes. She is. Beautiful."

The elf lord nodded and looked away, before turning back to the blond prince.

Fili gave him a lopsided grin, his dimples fully visible beneath his trim beard. "Why are you here with me, and not with Kili? Excuse me, Kuilaith?"

Mentally shifting from one topic to the other, the elf lord shrugged lightly. "Elrohir insisted, felt that there is friction between my son and myself over the chaperone issue. It was to make things easier for Kuilaith. Besides, it is only for an hour or so."

Fili paused, as if considering the words. "Hour or so?"

"Your king suggested, and we agreed, that it would be best to move both you and your brother to my room for the night. This would be unexpected to any enemy, and guarding one room is easier than guarding two."

The crown prince grimaced and looked away for a moment, obviously not liking the idea.

"It's just for tonight." Elladan assured him.

"Is it?" Fili shook his head and pinned his adoptive elven father with a long look. "We don't know that we will find out who tried to kill us, not all in one night."

The elf nodded, agreeing. "Yes. But on the morrow we can come up with a plan to choose how best to guard you and Kuilaith in your own home, much less your own rooms. This is only a means to get through tonight."

"Fine." Fili ground out the word gruffly, clearly not happy.

"Fine." Elladan agreed, unable to come up with a better plan on the spot.

"And what does it matter if she's pretty?" Fili hissed suddenly.

Blinking his gray eyes, Elladan looked toward the crafting room door. "Nothing. It's good that she's pretty."

The young dwarrow balled his fists and groaned loudly, looking toward the ceiling. "Was Bainnid pretty?" He suddenly attacked.

That name always threw him, but the elf lord refused to back away. "Yes."

"Is that all she was?"

"No."

"So why do you assume that beauty is all I see?" Fili ground out the words with a rising temper that brought color to his cheeks. "I'm a dwarf and therefore shallow? That we dwarrow love beautiful things, so nothing else matters to us?"

"Of course not." Elladan said rather defensively.

"Fine."

"Fine." The elf paused, then couldn't seem to help himself. "So. What else do you see?"

"I do NOT have to justify my choices to you. Ceremony or not, you were not there to raise me." Fili stepped into Elladan's personal space. The elf lord did not move back. "Thorin approves my choice."

Elladan looked unconvinced.

Fili growled and shook his head in disbelief. "All this time with us dwarves and you still think us so poor in spirit?"

"Your uncle approves?"

"He approves me being interested. It's a start. That means nothing in the long run, because in the end …it's not up to him. Or me. It's her choice. It's always the dwarrowdams who lead the courtship."

Elladan rolled his shoulders, not sure of how to react. "Yes, I understand that. I think." He frowned lightly. "But how do you know you are seeking after the right dam? You barely know her."

"And how do you propose I find out if I like her? By staying away?" Fili's eyes widened in mockery and utter sarcasm. "Does that work for you elves? Stay away from someone in order to get closer?"

"Tell me five things about her that would make a good queen." Elladan challenged.

"Only five?" Fili grinned suddenly. "She's smart, organized, educated, loyal and kind. See? And I didn't mention pretty or beautiful at all."

Elladan frowned at the young dwarrow.

"How do I know these things?" Fili leaned in with a gleam in his eyes. "She is ready to sit for her craft mastery. That does not include simple skill with her hands or her mind, but a knowledge of a wide variety of things. A master in an area means for every single detail, from the making of the components to the knowledge base for trading. A master knows what is needed, where, and how much it will cost in the breakdown and on the whole. They know where to get the best prices and how to get them there. Dori has been working with her, and is impressed. That makes her not only smart, but organized. It also means she is educated, needing to be able to cipher as well as read."

Elladan stared, unsure how to respond. He had not known any of that about dwarven craft masters.

"Did you think a Dwarven craft master was only good at making things?" Racial pride dripped from every word as Fili continued. "That just makes a good crafter. To be a master, you have to go beyond."

The tall elf lord nodded mutely.

"She is loyal and kind. Do you doubt me further, or should I lay out my arguments for those two things as well."

"No." Elladan bowed his head, knowing he'd been found in the wrong. "I concede that I myself did not look below the surface."

"Are you two quite done out here?"

Fili and Elladan both froze, turning to see a quite irate looking Erelinde staring back out at them. Behind her, Fergard Stormrune was smiling a bit weakly at the two males in the hallway. He shrugged, as if to say, this wasn't his fault.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili spied a determined looking Nori striding through the hall with Bofur and Bifur trailing behind him. He grunted. Apparently the missing dwarrow had been located, clued in, and was on the hunt. "Good."

Elrohir followed along in the prince's wake, and then nearly ploughed into him as the youth stopped suddenly in the middle of the hall.

"Kuilaith?"

"Kili." The young prince corrected, although a bit absently, as if his mind wasn't on the subject of his name.

"Kili." Elrohir amended. This drew the prince's attention as he turned to look at his uncle on the elvish side of his blood.

"So. I suppose we have to go get my things and move them to Elladan's room?"

Elrohir lifted an eyebrow and shrugged. "If that is what you are wanting to do."

"Wanting? No." Kili grimaced lightly and shook out his hands as if trying to release some built up tension. "I want to hunt down who tried to poison me."

"Whomever." The elf supplied.

Kili rolled his eyes in disgust, not bothering to correct his grammar. "Why are you here?"

"Helping you." Elrohir smiled, looking a bit too pleased with himself.

"I don't need protecting." The young dwarf denied.

"Didn't say I was protecting you. I said I was helping you." Elrohir shrugged down at his nephew.

Kili hesitated, considering the words most carefully. "Thorin thinks you're protecting me."

"He's free to make that conclusion." The elf said slowly.

Kili turned to fully face his uncle, crossing his arms. "And if I said I wanted to see Tauriel? Hunt down a would-be assassin? Or take a trip into Dale?"

"I would say that Tauriel won't be back for an hour, but should be free after that. Where do you want to start looking for an assassin? And maybe you might need a heavier cloak to ride into Dale. The weather is turning sharpish."

Dark eyes blinked. Once. Twice. A third time. Kili opened his mouth twice, closing it without a word. Finally he scratched his chin. "Really?"

Elrohir shrugged and smiled conspiratorially. "I was very proud of you tonight."

Kili held his breath for a second and then blew out a confused sound. "It was only a small story. Not even the best one I heard."

"And you chose that one because you didn't want to rock the boat with your uncle and the other dwarrow, understood."

"Rock the boat?" Kili questioned the saying.

"Cause waves." Elhrohir waved a hand in a vague manner to indicate an up and down motion. "Keep the boat from overflowing and sinking."

"Ah." Kili nodded as he caught the meaning. "I didn't tell the story to get anything. Not from him, and not from you."

"That too is understood." Elrohir smiled warmly. "And I'm not giving you anything I shouldn't. If we see Tauriel, you'll still have a chaperone. If we hunt for an assassin, it won't be alone. As for Dale. If we go, at least you won't be on your own."

Kili eyed his uncle carefully. "Why did you decide to come with me?" Why didn't his father want to guard him?

Elrohir shook his head at the young prince. "He is perhaps too careful with you, and it can seem smothering."

The dark-haired prince nodded, then grinned. "An hour before Tauriel gets back? Good."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Nori had at least three names on his list. Brinarg happened to be one of the first. The dwarrow was easy enough to find.

He was in his room.

The next part was easy too. The poison was listed on the suicide note. Right next to the body.

So easy.

Nori chewed on his bottom lip for a long moment. "Too easy." He muttered to himself. "Far too easy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not entirely happy with this chapter, in that I wanted to do at least three or four more scenes. But they aren't ones that I want to do quickly and will probably lead to a whole new chapter. So yeah. They'll wait. Sorry!


	32. In which Kili is encouraged to think Elven

Fili and Kili were brothers. Close and nearly inseparable in the minds of everyone they met. Some even thought of them as a single unit. If one was invited somewhere, it was a given that the other would be there as well. However, to those who knew the brothers well, they were not one person but two very different dwarrow.

Both were loyal to the core, both strong fighters, both intelligent and giving and full of humor. Yet they were not mirror images, and not just in outside appearance.

One was quicker to anger, but also quicker to forgive. The other was far more prone to carrying a grudge. He was also more calculating, though he took nearly as many risks as his sibling. He just thought it through more. One fell in love almost in an instant, and that didn't bother his sibling, not really. For he knew the depths of Kili's feelings, and even if the youngest did fall in love quickly, it was real. Just, that wasn't the way Fili was made.

Kili threw himself at life and life accommodated him. Fili threw himself at life, having decided which course would get him where he wanted to go. To the outside world, it looked like they were doing the same thing, the differences entirely unseen.

So when Erelinde Stormrune's hood fell back and Erebor's crown prince got his first look at her, it was like a war mace to the chest. But it wasn't love. Definite interest though. Almost a consuming interest, but not love.

When he'd gotten her attention and they'd chatted it had been really nice to discover she had a quick mind and a wit to match. But it wasn't love.

At the moment Fili realized there had been an assassination attempt at dinner, and everyone was in danger …he had worried first for his sibling, then his uncle and then Erelinde. Which suggested to himself that he definitely wasn't in love.

But.

When the immediacy of danger was past, it was the thought of the white-blonde beauty being in the path of death that left him feeling shaky and empty inside. It was her face and the possible loss of her presence that left him feeling hollow. It left him needing to see her, to see her breath entering and leaving her body. To feel the warmth of her presence. To see that life still shone brightly in those sky-blue eyes.

He might not be in love, but he knew if he continued on this path he could well end up at that destination. So. Did he want to keep on this path? Despite what he'd said to his second-father, Fili had doubts.

As Erebor's future king, he needed to choose a wife carefully. He couldn't afford to go the route of his younger brother. Kili had weighed nothing, considered nothing beyond his own instincts and feelings. Luckily for the young prince, it seemed that fate was on his side. Tauriel seemed to be his perfect match. Even if the two were of different races.

Almost different races. Fili thought with amusement. His baby brother was part-elf. Beyond the initial shock, it explained so much of their past.

Pushing all of that aside, and no matter how well suited Kili was with his love …Fili knew the weight of responsibility. His uncle had drilled it into him from the cradle. And it was a weight he carried gladly and without reserve. He was of the Line of Durin, and he was to be the future King Under the Mountain. He couldn't simply throw himself at the first dwarrowdam he met.

So. Pursuing Erelinde may not be in his best interest. Okay, maybe it was in HIS best interest. But what of Erebor? He'd been mulling this over when Elladan started questioning his choice of Erelinde and he'd started to defend her. And despite any qualms he might have, everything he told the tall elf father was absolutely true.

Maybe she wasn't so bad a choice. Just because he was meeting her early didn't mean she couldn't be the right choice. Right?

Lost in his argument with Elladan, it was something of a definite shock when Erelinde threw open the door to her crafting room, staring out at them.

"Are you two quite done out here?"

Standing there, glaring at him, all Fili could think of is how he could have forgotten how beautiful she was in the short time since he'd seen her last? His second thought was full of near panic. He'd just gotten her to notice him, perhaps he should have waited until after there was no more danger? No. He'd not known there would be poison at the table. He was being ridiculous. All thoughts of not pursuing her, fled like so much smoke.

"Well?" She sounded rather impatient, though hardly imposing. His mam would have had every dwarrow within a ten mile radius quivering at the first hint of her temper.

Elladan reacted first, bowing low to the dwarrowdam staring at them. "My humblest apologies."

Sky-blue eyes blinked in surprise. "Do you have less humble apologies?" She asked curiously, then shook her head. "Do elves have levels of apologies?"

Elladan's gray eyes watched her for a moment, then he smiled slightly. "Do dwarves?" He answered with a question of his own.

Erelinde blinked again, pushing back a stray curl of hair which had escaped her intricate braids and considered the question. "Nothing formal. It depends on the level of insult offered I suppose."

"It is the same for elves." The tall warrior gifted her with a true smile this time, along with a respectful tilt to his head. Fili watched as the elf's hand came up to his chest in a refined gesture.

Feeling uncouth next to the graceful being that was his brother's father, Fili grimaced. "Then I suggest that the humblest of apologies are not necessary for speaking too loudly in a hallway in front of a closed door where the conversation was private."

All eyes turned to him and Fili basically froze in place. He knew he'd just put his foot in his mouth. "I didn't mean that like it sounded." He amended quickly.

"Like you didn't mean to list my qualities as a possible queen before you even get to know me?" Came the chilly response from the pretty dwarrowdam.

Fili's own blue eyes widened as he shook his head, holding up his hands in surrender. "I was the one defending you! He was the one with questions." Without remorse he pointed at the elf, trying to deflect her cold response from himself.

"He's smarter than you then." Came the tart reply as Erelinde pursed her lips. Pink lips without the use of artificial colors. Soft looking. Fili blinked, he did not need to be thinking along those lines at the moment. Reluctantly he moved his gaze up to her eyes only to find her glaring at him. Again.

"Now daughter, there is no need to insult the prince. I am sure he meant no harm." Fergard tried for soothing.

"I admit, I am finding myself charmed. I only question where my knowledge is lacking." Elladan spoke smoothly to the younger dwarrowdam. "I am fond of my dwarven son and would see him choose wisely. I should not have doubted his reasoning."

Taken off-guard, Erelinde smiled at the tall elf lord in spite of her irritation. "You can be forgiven, for dwarven customs are no doubt new to you, elf. But I have not consented to being courted, nor is that my wish."

Fili felt unsteady. He didn't have the luxury of examining his feelings on Elladan declaring himself 'fond' or calling him a son. Not when there were other matters at hand. Right in front of him. Only she wasn't looking at him anymore, but at his second-father. He slid his eyes toward the tall elf.

Elladan appeared mildly disappointed as he considered the white-blond beauty before him. "If there is fault in the prince, I wish you would place it on my head. He was defending you and I was the crass one."

Sky-blue eyes softened as she shook her head. "Oh dear, no. There is no fault in the prince. Or in your wisdom to ask such questions."

Fili shifted his weight, not sure if he should interrupt. He glanced at her father and Fergard shook his head, casting his glance downward. Fili kept his tongue still. For the moment. Barely.

"I am a crafter. So your questions are moot. A queen is not even the least of my ambitions. I have no desire to gain such a title, or even become a wife. I have no inclination to be courted." Erelinde finished almost gently, her eyes turning on the dwarrow prince in question. She looked almost sorry. That stung.

Fili could not hold silent, not now. "How do you know?" He moved forward into the room, with Erelinde backing up automatically. "How do you know you don't want to be courted? Have you ever allowed such?"

Elladan stayed in the hallway, watching. He caught Fergard Stormrune looking at him and twitched his shoulders, sliding his eyes casually along the outer wall. The dwarf took his cue and joined him outside the room, though he left the door wide open.

"Do you turn away from a difficult task in your craft simply because you don't know how to work it out yet? Or do you try and find a way to learn what you need?"

"That is a poor example." Erelinde's voice carried softly out into the hallway, making her father smile sadly.

"Explain how it's not the same." Fili's voice was deeper, cajoling. "You don't know me well enough to reject a suit."

Elladan looked at the much shorter dwarf. "She seems a lovely child."

Fergard smiled deeply, though a bit on the dejected side. "She is all the family I have left. A true treasure. If stubborn."

The elf listened to the two inside arguing on the merits of … he frowned. "Fish?" Maybe he hadn't caught the word correctly.

The Stormrune dwarrow smiled and walked further down the hallway, the elf lord followed. "I confess, I'm not sure how they got on the topic of going fishing."

Elladan's face cleared as he chuckled. "Two days hence, there is a trip planned with myself and the prince among others. Fishing. I believe he may have just invited her."

Fergard scratched his beard and shrugged. "She's a fair hand with cooking fish, when she can remember to come up out of her crafting. Don't know that I'd call her good at catching them."

"She seems to have patience." Elladan gestured in the general direction of the door down the hall. "Hasn't lost her temper."

"Temper?" The dwarven father chuckled. "No temper. If she gets angry she gets this disappointed look that makes you want to crawl under a rock and die. But never heard her yell or scream."

"That might be a good quality in a future queen." Elladan teased lightly. "If he can get her to agree to go fishing with us. If she does decide to come, you are more than welcome to join in with us." The elf invited generously. He really was appalled that his words had carried to the dam in question. It was not well done of him.

Fergard shook his head. "I'll be in the mines. Critical work coming up this next week, well, several weeks. And I'm not sure that Erelinde will agree to go fishing. She tends to lose herself in thinking about lace patterns while waiting for a fish to bite. Always loses her bait and not noticing."

The tall elf shrugged lightly. "Do you really think Fili will let her ignore his presence for long? She'll notice."

Fergard shifted his weight uneasily, peering up at the tall form of the elf.

"Yes. He's my second-son. I did go through the ceremony when he was but four." Elladan answered the unspoken question. "I do regret not having raised him, and although I know he's an adult now and a full dwarrow …I do care. I have no say in his life or his choices, but it is my hope he won't cut me out of that life."

Fergard blinked rapidly and then shook his head as he pressed his lips together in mild amusement. "Right answer, wrong question. If my sweet child decides to go fishing, you will look out for her?"

Elladan was startled into a dry chuckle even as he nodded in assent. "Do you think she will agree?"

"Truthfully? No." The dwarven father didn't sound enthused by his own answer.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I was NOT fishing for a compliment!" Fili said grimly. "I just wanted to know what you find nice about me. Since you listed all my deficits so completely and well."

"And who said I see anything complimentary?" Erelinde asked hotly, though without raising her voice. "And all I said is that you were acting arrogant and high-handed in telling me that I needed to allow you to court me. That is hardly a complete list of your deficits, I am sure."

Fili fought to keep the smile off his face, having pushed her onto the defensive. He only hoped he wasn't making a mistake. "So, you'll deny me out of hand AND insult me? I thought dwarrowdams were taught to have better manners in the course of turning down a dwarrow's suit."

Erelinde drew up, obviously struggling with what to say next. "It was not meant to be an insult." She insisted finally.

The blond prince shook his head sadly, shrugging. "You call me arrogant, well …"

"You are heir to the throne of King Thorin." Erelinde pursed her lips becomingly. "I'm sure a certain amount of arrogance would be needed to lead so many dwarves. And to face a dragon."

"Goblins."

Sky blue eyes widened on him. "Goblins?" She could still remember their war shrieks as they attacked her caravan just over a week ago.

"I've faced goblins, orcs, trolls, even a stone giant in the mountains." Fili supplied with as much humility as he could fake.

Erelinde's mouth snapped shut as her eyes narrowed on him. "You expect me to believe that?"

"Ask anyone of the company. Stone giants, breaking off from the mountains to fight each other. I ended up on one, my brother and uncle on another. Thought we were done for."

"And now you'll impress me with your bravery?" She guessed.

Fili shook his head, blond braids moving with him that to another dwarf showed he was a master blade wielder. "I was terrified." He admitted truthfully, though in a calculated move to show her he was more than simply arrogant. "Nothing I could do. Taller than ten trolls on top of one another. Though it smelled better than troll."

Sky blue eyes weighed his sincerity, studying his face. "There really was a stone giant?" She asked almost breathlessly. "I thought they were a myth."

"I too." Fili admitted with a shrug. "And no, I did nothing brave nor heroic. The stone giant we were on was knocked down and we crashed into the side of the mountain. We were able to scramble onto a ledge. There was no grace, no strength, and nothing to tell a good tale of our courage."

Hearing the truth in his voice, the dwarrowdam made a small sound of sympathy. His admission was very undwarven. Males of their race simply didn't admit to such, except among their most trusted friends and family. Erelinde's eyes rounded in distress.

Fili immediately reached for her hand. "What? What did I say wrong?"

Erelinde blew out a frustrated breath. "You treat me as if my accepting your suit is a foregone conclusion."

"Not hardly." Fili sighed, still holding her hand. She tugged on it, and he reluctantly let her go. "In fact. Turn me down."

Sky-blue eyes closed for a second and she took in a deep breath. Finally she opened her eyes to stare at him in disbelief. "What?"

"Turn me down." Fili grinned widely at her, his arrogance back in place. "Then let me come by tomorrow and escort you to dinner. As a friend. Hopefully without poisoned ale this time."

Erelinde sighed and shook her head as she chuckled. "I know a ploy when I hear one."

"Good. Being smart is a good thing in a future queen." He teased.

She sucked in a deep breath, though her eyes chided him. "No. I will not have dinner with you tomorrow. I don't want to be courted."

"Are we back to that?" Fili smiled enticingly at her. "Look. You've never let yourself be courted before. So you don't KNOW if you wouldn't enjoy it. Don't want to be a wife? Are you sure? How? Get to know me! That's it. Not a formal suit. No real courting. Just you and me becoming friends."

Erelinde crossed her eyes humorously at him and made a rude sound.

Fili laughed. "I'm coming to get you for dinner tomorrow."

"No."

"And it's not a traditional courtship. No beads. Nothing like that." Fili pretended he hadn't heard her turn him down.

"I said, no."

"And I'm trying to change your mind." Fili winked at her and she gave in and laughed as he turned on his brightest smile. "You need friends. Especially as yours are being actively courted and will most likely marry. You need someone to make sure you take a break and actually eat."

"This won't be a courtship thing?" She clarified, weakening.

Pressing forward, Fili grinned and nodded. "No courting. No gifts or beads. No announcements or braids."

"No trying to sneak a kiss?"

Fili's face blanked and he held up his hands in surrender. "Only once a day."

Erelinde laughed and held out her hands to stop him as he moved forward. "No."

"How can you get to know me without kissing me?" He teased openly. "You'll never know if you like it or not without trying."

Erelinde stared at him, not answering for the longest time.

Sensing a weakening, he lifted his eyebrows and waited her out.

"One." She whispered, shocked at herself. Had she really just said that?

Fili shook his head immediately. "One? I don't know if I can impress you properly with only one. I don't have a wide range of experience in this matter. I need ten."

"Never." She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "How many dams have you kissed?"

"None." He winked at her. "So I need more than one, otherwise it'll just be sad."

Erelinde firmed her mouth and shook her head. "One." She pointed at him sternly. "And since you've never courted a dam before, how do you even know you want to do so with me?"

"I don't know. But at least I'm willing to find out." He told her breathlessly. "I know that I WANT to know." He stared at her. "Eight."

"This is not a negotiation." The white-blonde beauty growled at him. It was the cutest thing he'd ever heard.

"I need the practice." He smiled at her, trying to be tempting.

"Practice on someone else." She stood her ground, even though the thought of him looking at another dam was strangely disconcerting. She didn't really want this, did she?

Fili's face froze in shock for a moment, then he shook his head in wonder. "Did you become a master at a new skill on your first attempt?"

Erelinde opened her mouth as she stared at him. He really was quite handsome. And earnest. And … he had a small point. No one was good at anything the first attempt. Was she even being fair? "Two."

"Three." He countered just as Fergard and Elladan walked back into the room. "No less."

"Three what?" Fergard asked with a smile.

"Kisses." Fili said firmly, making Erelinde's mouth drop open in shock and consternation.

"That's my da!" She hissed.

Fergard turned and walked out of the room, muttering to himself.

"Then he'd best get used to me kissing you." Fili grinned wickedly. He turned and stared at his second-father, wondering if the tall elf was going to object. Not that it would matter.

Elladan looked at the beet-red face of the dam, and the determined face of a certain blond prince. He sighed. This wasn't an underage elfling and he had no rights, no say. Face blank, he turned and followed the dwarven father back out into the hallway.

"How dare you!" Erelinde stared at him in shock, her voice hoarse.

Fili threw caution to the wind. He'd been feeling unsettled ever since the assassination attempt downstairs. All the talk, talk, talk with his father, her father, and then with her… it was leaving him feeling raw and edgy. For once, he reacted like his younger brother and not in his usual manner.

Erelinde squeaked very softly as he invaded her space, moving in close. Fili leaned in and their foreheads almost touched, though not quite. Still, she could feel the heat of his body so close to her own. His hands cupped her shoulders and his mouth moved just in front of hers. Hovering there, but not closing the minute distance.

"I don't know what will happen. I am no seer and the future is a mystery, which is fine with me. You can tell me nay, and I will listen. But give me a chance to get to know you." His hand travelled down her arm to capture her hand in his and she gasped. He raised her palm and pressed it against his chest, over his heart.

"Don't." She begged.

He let her go. But didn't move away. And her hand stayed right where it was for a moment, then two, and then three. Suddenly she realized he was no longer holding her hand prisoner and she pulled it away as if his chest was burning hot.

"See? I listen." Fili teased, still standing in her space. The heat of his breath tickling her lips. Was he going to kiss her?

Erelinde felt confused. She'd never been curious about being courted. Her craft's call had ever been the center of her world, especially following the death of her mother and younger brother. It had pulled her and held her and helped her to heal. Cushioned her and …isolated her?

"Do you want your first kiss now?" His voice as heady as a siren's song. Her stomach trembled, turning over with an unknown ache.

"No." She whispered, more out of defense than anything else.

"Alright." Fili agreed, making her want to protest. Wait. No she didn't. "Are you going to kiss me instead? You're not limited to only three, just to be clear."

Stunned, Erelinde pulled back, staring up into his face. If he'd looked amused she might have said something. But he looked so serious. Almost needy. For her. She swallowed and stepped back, relieved and disappointed when he didn't follow.

"Dinner. Tomorrow." He reminded her, then bowed deeply.

Before she could refuse, before she could form a thought much less a sentence …he'd moved away toward the door. "Tomorrow." She breathed, nearly mouthing the word rather than speaking it.

He grinned and winked at her before disappearing out into the hallway.

Erelinde sank down to the floor, unable to take the few steps necessary to locate her crafting chair. "Oh dear."

"Daughter?" At her father's call, the dam looked up at him. "Are you alright?"

"No." Erelinde shrugged helplessly. "I think he's taking me to dinner tomorrow."

Fergard blinked, then grinned. Pulling a cross look from his only surviving child.

"You don't have to look so pleased about it." She huffed, looking somewhat like a disgruntled kitten to the mind of her father.

Fergard tried to wipe the smile from his face, but had a feeling he was doing a poor job of it.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I thought we were going to meet Tauriel when she got back from patrol." Elrohir sounded a bit confused as he pointed toward a large archway and the connected hall leading to the front entrance of Erebor. "Even if you were serious and wanted to go to Dale, it would be in that direction."

"But I'm going this direction." Kili looked archly at his elven relative, wondering if the tall warrior was going to argue or refuse. Was he a guard, a babysitter, or an uncle?

Elrohir didn't let his thoughts show through his gray eyes as he watched his mixed-blood nephew. He was nearly three thousand years old, and had been raised by Elrond among others. He knew when he was being tested. "Fine."

Surprised by the ease of the agreeable answer, the dwarven prince paused. "Not going to ask why?"

"Are you going to tell me?" Elrohir countered blithely.

Kili shrugged. "Not a secret. I've been down in the mines with the engineers for the past week, helping with inspections."

"Helping?" Elrohir couldn't resist.

The dark-haired prince stilled, then gave a rueful chuckle. "Was being taught. I know some rudiments of mining, but was trained as a warrior. Spent most of my time hunting or guarding caravans. So yes, Bofur was trying to show me some of the repairs needed and teaching me about mining."

"Important information when living in a giant mine." Came the caustic, yet amused, response. "Especially for a leader."

Kili gave his uncle a long look of speculation. "I'm never going to lead Erebor."

Elrohir didn't flinch away from his young nephews gaze. "Hopefully not. King Thorin will live long and well. Fili will marry and live long and rule well, producing children."

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean, that's not what I meant."

The elf wasn't blind nor stupid. "I know. And I sorrow for what you perceive you may have lost by being related to us."

Us. Elves. Kili blinked, looking away as he headed down, toward the working portions of the mines. He let the silence between them stretch on for several long minutes until nearly a half of an hour passed. Erebor was a big kingdom.

Suddenly Kili stopped in the middle of the hall. He whipped around and pinned his elvish uncle with a dark stare. "I feel cheated."

Elrohir nodded, unsurprised. "Did you want to rule Erebor?"

"No. But I always knew that I could if I had to do so." The dark-haired prince seemed to bite out the words.

"That's still there." Elrohir sounded so calm as he spoke, it was completely irritating.

"No. No, it's not." Kili threw out his arms as if to encompass the entire mountain. "Even if the worst happens and Thorin and Fili were gone without issue, then it doesn't mean the dwarves would follow ME! Once they would have, but now? No."

"I heard you were fine with that, by what you yourself said. That you were content to follow Fili and serve at his side. That if he were gone, you would have to have been gone first because you'd never let anything happen to him."

Dark eyes blinked rapidly in surprise. "You have really good sources." He muttered.

"The best."

Kili closed his eyes, belatedly recalling that Elladan had been there when he'd spoken with Fili. "Some of that was meant to be private."

"How good is your hearing?"

"Huh?" Kili looked confused for a second and then nodded grimly. "Better than most dwarves." He admitted.

"Something you might have gained from our side of the family." Elrohir pointed out smoothly. "Balance, endurance, need for less sleep, strength …"

"Fili is stronger than I!" Kili's head popped up, taking way too much pleasure in gainsaying his elvish uncle.

"You're young and still growing in strength." Elrohir said calmly. "Kuilaith." He deliberately used the elvish name for his nephew. Pointing out the obvious.

"What if I'm weaker than both races? What if the mixing of my blood has bad effects? I mean, I am mortal, right?"

Gray eyes beheld the young dwarf for a long moment, staring. Dark eyes met him head on. A decidedly long moment passed before Kili growled and looked away with a dejected sigh.

"Mortal doesn't mean weak." Elrohir spoke gently. "Conversations held in the same room won't be private from you. And if the Dwarves don't follow you, it is their loss. Though I do understand why you would feel cheated, as you put it."

Kili walked away without a word, mulling over the words. Though when they left behind all hallways and entered huge carved caverns with a multitude of mining machinery, he stopped.

He pointed toward some distant glowing. "The forges." He then gestured at the pulley systems and metal containers hanging from the ceiling. "Had to be repaired after Smaug."

Elrohir looked around with very real interest. Elves weren't used to such depths, but what he saw was an ingenuity of engineering. Tidy and in order as well as massive. "When I thought of mines I was picturing tunnels dark and dwarf height. Not this."

Kili licked his lips, looking around in pride. "My people built this."

"Yes."

"My people built all of this."

"Yes." Elrohir agreed once more. "And your people built the Woodland Realms as well, Lothlorien. It has a beauty too, even if you have yet to see it. Rivendell. Imladris. Your people built this and that. Moria too. You may have lost something, but you gained something too."

Kili's mind stalled. It was too big, too much. His mouth was as suddenly dry as a desert.

"You are not weaker than both races, not unless you choose to be. Kuilaith. Kili. By whatever name, you represent Elves and Dwarves and even Humanity."

"Elladan said humans would find me handsome."

Surprised by the non sequitur, Elrohir paused with an unexpected chuckle. "I suppose so."

"I feel like I don't have a place."

"You have too many places." Elrohir corrected him softly. "If you don't fall into the trap of looking only at what you don't have, rather than at what you do."

"By Nain's Bearded Ass." Kili swore loudly, using Thorin's favorite phrase. "You're not going to let me feel sorry for myself, are you?"

"No." Elrohir put his hand on his nephew's shoulder. "Why should you? You weren't planning on inheriting the throne anyway. You still have your Uncle Thorin, your brother, even your dam. You only gained a father, an uncle, an aunt …."

"A grandfather and great-grandparents." Kili concluded.

"Erebor. Imladris. Lothlorien." The tall elven warrior shrugged. "Now. Is this why we are down here in the mines? To wallow?"

Kili sent a sour look over his shoulder at his uncle, then stepped away. Reaching up, he grinned and took a second step. Right off the ledge.

Elrohir let out a spate of invective words, in elvish. He hurried to the edge and looked down. More words escaped him as he spied Kuilaith speeding down to the lower levels, hanging onto a handle from the overhead pulley system.

The elf looked up, finding more of these handles. Shaking his head, Elrohir grasped the next one and stepped off the ledge. The sensation was exhilarating, a controlled fall. Within moments he was at the bottom, standing next to a beaming Kuilaith.

The dark-haired dwarven prince eyed his uncle with an air of superiority. "What were those words you were saying up there?" He tapped his rounded ears. "Elven hearing, you realize."

Elrohir coughed out a laugh, not even pretending to be angry. "Forget those particular words if you please. My father doesn't know that I know them."

Kili grinned widely. "After two thousand plus years, you'd think he'd realize that your vocabulary has expanded beyond his teaching."

"Maybe." The tall elf rolled his eyes lightly. "But he'd have my hide for teaching it to someone of your tender years."

Kili let out a string of Khuzdul with a wicked gleam in his eye. He then cocked his head to the side. "Teach me yours and I'll teach you mine."

"I will think upon it." Elrohir allowed even as he looked around the area with interest. "So. Are there no stairs?"

"Of course there are stairs, but what's the fun in that?" Kili laughed mockingly and walked away, toward one of the many rooms carved into the mountain.

Elrohir dropped his head back, staring up at the stone ceiling several stories above them. He laughed deeply and then looked back over at the retreating back of his brother's son. "Perhaps you weren't the only one to gain something by being related to us."

Kili froze for half a second then looked back at his uncle, shrugging happily. "Perhaps."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The furs of Dwalin's gear was coated with frost and wet with snow. Winter was settling into the mountains. Kili frowned lightly, hoping that a true storm didn't come through, not with his mother on her way here to Erebor.

What might happen once Dis arrived, he pushed to the side of his mind. It didn't bear thinking about, not yet. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to her. For that matter, he wasn't even sure about how he felt. In fact, there was only one thing he really did know for certain. And there she was. "Tauriel!"

The red head's cheeks were nearly as bright as her hair, made even more noticeable by her usually creamy complexion. "Kili." Her eyes fell to his hands and brightened at the sight of the steaming mug. Dwarven black tea was stronger than her personal preference, but right now it was hot and exactly what was needed.

"Very chivalrous of you, lad." Dwalin said sarcastically, shaking ice particles out of his beard.

Kili grinned and stepped aside, showing the small table and several mugs of tea. Dwalin and the other dwarrow all grinned and took one each with gratitude. "Nicely done." The bald warrior commented with a gruff affection.

He looked over at Elrohir, who had a tray of thick sandwiches as well. Dwalin raised an eyebrow at Kili in question.

The dark-eyed prince grinned sheepishly.

"At least you knew enough to bring some for all." Dwalin shook his head, resigned.

"News." Kili said softly.

Dwalin stilled, his hand stopping before he could take a sandwich. He turned hard eyes on the young prince. Tauriel caught the word too. She paused, seeing the serious look on the dwarrow warrior's face. This more than Kili's word had her attention drawn.

Quickly Kili outlined what had happened at late dinner. With each word Dwalin's face darkened with temper, and Tauriel's fell into more of a blank mask. She looked more like the guard who'd taken him prisoner now than ever before. Gone was all individuality, here was the professional captain and lethal weapon, ready for any action needed.

Kili sighed as the tall elf and the bald dwarrow shared a meaningful look. He snapped his fingers in between them, drawing their startled gazes. "No conspiring to protect me needed. Give over." He flicked his head to indicate Elrohir.

Dwalin grunted. "Your brother is so protected?"

"Aye. King Thorin as well." Elrohir answered for Kili smoothly.

"I need to speak with him." Dwalin growled fiercely. He turned to head in that direction, but stopped and sent a piercing look at the red-headed she elf. She nodded back at him.

Elrohir pressed a sandwich and fresh cup of tea into Dwalin's hands. "Eat on the way. You look like you need it."

Wanting to dispute that, but hearing only the truth, the tattooed warrior grunted an incoherent thanks and headed off to find his king.

Kili sighed and peered up at the female who held his heart. "He was telling you to protect me, wasn't he?"

Tauriel blew on her tea and took an appreciative sip. "No. He knows you can protect yourself. And you have Elrohir. Though he'd expect me to aid if you were attacked, I'm sure. That look was to let me know that he'd pass on my concerns to King Thorin."

Kili stiffened. "Concerns?"

"Signs in the mountains." Tauriel paused and closed her eyes as her hands savored the heat of the mug she held. "Or lack of signs."

Elrohir drew up, his attention caught. "Lack of scents and wildlife?"

The she-elf nodded. "It's not what was there that bothered me."

"But the absence." The tall elf smiled quite grimly. "Yes. We've run into that a time or two up in the North, with the Rangers. They don't want us to know how closely we're being watched."

Tauriel nodded, grateful to be believed. It had taken some convincing with Dwalin to get the burly warrior to understand the depth of her concern on the matter. This assassination attempt here at Erebor probably would help lend her words some credence now as well.

Kili looked around at the returning patrol, they were all removing their outer gear and chatting. He grimaced and put his arm around Tauriel, leading her to one side.

She gave him an arch look.

He gave her a frown in return. "Don't look at me like that. I just want to talk to you."

Kili turned and looked at the others, who were paying them little to no attention. He glanced over at his elvish uncle, who was talking with the group easily. It didn't mean he couldn't hear, but at least it seemed like he wasn't paying attention.

"You could be a target." Kili said quietly. "And it's my fault. Sort of." He reached up and flicked the jeweled clasp in her hair that noted that she was being courted by, well ….him. "Not just for the ass who poisoned our ale, but for those who want to get a word to a prince."

Tauriel nodded. She'd been approached once already. "Terlic wants to know the schedule for rebuilding the heated pools. Kili, to be honest, I wasn't sure how to respond. So I didn't."

"That's fine."

"And I was even less sure of the question. The heated pools looked fine when we were there." She continued.

Kili flushed slightly, taking a breath free of the insidious weight of fluid brought on by pneumonia. He wasn't completely well yet, according to OIn. But nearly. "Wrong pools. Those are for the dams. They had less damage."

"You have separate baths for the genders?" Tauriel asked, a bit surprised. She'd not noticed much in the way of embarrassment in the dwarves when it came to bathing. Though she'd been cleaning up in her rooms since her arrival, not ready for communal washing up with dwarves as yet.

Kili gave her a resigned look. "Not necessarily. It's …see, there are the main baths. For anyone. Some have private baths. Like the royal family. Though right now Thorin's is the only one in good repair. But there is a separate place kept for the dwarrowdams."

"Why?"

"The unmarried dams, the ones who are heavy with child, or just any dwarrowdam looking to bathe in private at certain …times." He ended almost in a whisper, embarrassed.

Tauriel flashed a grin at him and nodded, not making him explain further. He looked ill at ease enough already.

"Those are the only baths really in good repair, being further into the mountain and through twisty passages. Smaug didn't do much damage that way, as there was little gold and treasure in the bathing area beyond decorations." Kili finished.

"But the main baths have to be working, or I'd have heard about it." Tauriel pointed out.

"Working, but not very efficiently. Running either too hot or too cool. Anyway, it's on the list for repairs." Kili shrugged. "But hardly essential to Erebor's defense or well-being. We get some more workers in here, and maybe it can move up on the list."

"What about opening up the private dwarrowdam pools in the meantime?" Tauriel asked curiously.

"Not big enough." Kili shrugged.

"Can they be used in shifts?"

Kili blinked and opened his mouth, then closed it, then shot her a proud look. "Traditionally, it's not done. But … traditions went by the roadside when the dwarves were driven from here. Perhaps. Some won't use them, will refuse to use them. But I'll run the idea by Thorin and Balin, see what they say. It's worth discussing at least."

Tauriel nodded, pleased with his acceptance of her ideas, even if it came to naught. Back in Mirkwood, good ideas were sometimes discarded without consideration or explanation. And it might be the same here, but not yet. "I like Erebor."

Hearing the soft tone of her voice, Kili shivered and smiled. An itch had him shifting slightly before settling down again. He waited, but nothing moved that he could tell. Still, itching was a good signal for a dwarrow on the cusp of 'awakening'. "I hope Erebor is not all you like."

"No." She said almost dreamily. "Erebor is not all I like."

The stress she put on the word like had Kili's breathing increasing and his throat gave a warning tickle before he started coughing loudly. Nearly well from pneumonia isn't the same as being completely well. Kili cursed inside his head, even using some of the language Elrohir had said earlier though he didn't know the meaning behind the words. At least not yet.

When he finished coughing, it was to find Tauriel's arm around him as she murmured soft sounding things in his ear. "I really need to learn Sindarin." He muttered breathlessly.

She laughed, her breath warming his ear. This brought on another round of itching down below, where manners demanded he did NOT scratch in front of …well, anyone. His skin crawled with the need to ease the itch until inspiration struck.

Kili stood and turned his back to Tauriel, reaching into his tunic to pull out his gift. If he happened to try and adjust himself quickly, that was just coincidental. He turned back with a smile and handed the necklace to Tauriel.

The red-head eyed the golden chain and the dangling rock with surprise. "Is this something to do with courtship?" She asked cautiously. "Bifur didn't tell me I needed to make you something, well …yes he did. But not yet. And more in line with something edible. At least that's what his cousin told me he was saying, I'm afraid I didn't catch most of it." She paused, pulling a face. "Any of it, really."

"I know." Kili sat back down next to her, pressing the necklace into her hands. He wrapped his own hands around hers so she couldn't let go of the gift or try and return it. "This is because of what happened tonight."

The poisoned ale. Tauriel blinked and opened her hands. Nestled in her palms was the stone that Galadriel had gifted him, wrapped in thin wires of gold in an attractive pattern and hung from a chain.

"I'm afraid I didn't have much time. It's a very basic setting, more of a wire cage really. But I didn't want to drill into it, in case that disrupted the magic in some way. This seemed best. The chain isn't new either, sorry to repurpose it like this. Keep in mind, it's not a courting gift though."

"I'm a target." His earlier words came back to her and suddenly there was moisture in the corners of her green eyes. She looked at him and he about melted.

"It's nothing spectacular." Kili whispered, wishing he'd had more time to come up with something. "It doesn't suit your beauty and …" Her hand moved to cover his lips.

"It's wonderful." Her voice sounded so loving and warm it pulled a sloppy smile from him. "And I can't take it."

His sloppy smile turned into a frown quicker than a lightning strike. "Yes you can."

"No." She tried to push the necklace back towards him, but Kili shook his head and wouldn't let her. "This was meant to protect you."

Kili sighed heavily and nodded. "Yes. I know. But if anyone hurt you, it would kill me. Gone. No more me. I need to know you're safe and you won't be giving that back to me."

"I've lived a lot longer than you." She began.

He cut her off rudely. "Crap." He hissed. "Yes. Years longer, but my interest in you means you are now a target. A very tall, beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful, and red-haired target. Big targets are easy to hit."

"Just because I'm tall, doesn't make me an easy target." She said with some asperity.

Kili shook his head at her, grimacing. "Big target, meaning as in hurt you and it destroys me. Not actual size. You could be hobbit sized and it wouldn't matter. You are the key to getting at me."

Tauriel's jewel-bright eyes caressed his face as she answered. "And you are no less the key to my heart as well. If anything happened to you, it would destroy me as certainly as the phases of the moon. You must keep this."

Her dark-eyed prince reached up and tapped the golden circlet around his forehead. "This will warn me." He pressed the necklace with its stone back toward her. "This will warn you."

Hesitating, Tauriel bit her bottom lip, pulling his gaze to her mouth. "Not fair." He whispered. "Love, please. This stone was meant to protect me. Yes. Protecting you is the BEST way to protect me. Please. Please my love."

Hearing the abject need in his voice, the near plea, had her resolve softening. Sensing this, Kili pulled the necklace from her numb fingers and quickly placed the chain around her neck.

She blinked and sighed as he grinned, gently beginning to pull the silken fall of her hair out from beneath the chain. "I can manage." She said a bit snippily.

"Ah, but I want to." Kili nearly purred, his fingers taking the excuse of freeing her hair to caress the sides of her neck.

Tauriel stilled beneath his ministrations, a bit appalled at herself for enjoying his touch so much. This was so new to her. Romance had always been for others, or just belonging in the great sagas of her people's lore. Feeling his emotions through the tender way he touched her was a revelation.

Kili moved behind her as she sat, and he freed the rest of her hair. Pushing it aside to put a kiss on the nape of her neck and taking a moment to draw in the scent that was uniquely hers. "Does that count as a kiss?"

Tauriel sighed with resignation and pursed her lips a bit, not looking at him as he was still behind her. "Technically no. But you and I both know that yes, it does. Am I supposed to be thinking Dwarven again?"

"If you like." Kili moved back around in front of her, capturing her hand once more. "Do I need to apologize?"

"I'm not used to all of this." She admitted, but didn't pull her hand away from him.

"Nor I." He admitted with a certain spark in his eyes. "Tauriel, I …."

"Tauriel!"

Both of them started a bit, turning to see Balin hurrying toward the couple. "I'm so sorry to interrupt, but King Thorin and Dwalin want to know if you'll join them in the royal study."

"Of course." The she-elf pulled her hand from Kili's, a bit embarrassed to be caught out so.

Disappointed, but understanding, the dwarven prince relinquished her hand. He was about to offer to escort her, when Balin continued.

"Laddie, I'm glad you're still here." Kili ignored the gleeful look in Balin's eyes.

"Oh?"

"King Thorin needs another patrol to go out tonight. Glorfindel is going and he asks if Elrohir would join with them?" Balin turned toward the elf in question.

Kili licked his lips, pretty sure he wasn't being included since he was still recovering.

Elrohir nodded. "I will get my gear." He bowed quickly.

"Lad. That leaves you with Elladan and Fili." Balin said quickly.

Kili's eyes widened with the implication that he needed a minder, his mouth opened to protest sharply.

"Please, Prince Kili." Balin hurried to forestall the eruption of temper. "Thorin would never rest easy if you were to be hurt or killed."

Biting back the bitter words on his tongue, Kili growled. "I can go sit with Thorin then. He can keep an 'eye' on me, and I can help with the meetings."

"Oin says you and your brother both still need your rest. You're both on your way to full health, but …"

Kili let loose with the words he'd heard from Elrohir earlier.

The elf's eyes widened with distress, then humor. "That was ….close."

Kili's next words were in Khuzdul and made Balin go pale.

Tauriel bent down and put her mouth next to Kili's ear. "Think elven for me, my love. If anything were to happen to you, I would never recover. Rest. Please. Tomorrow we'll discuss beginning our courtship in earnest."

"Out and out bribery." Balin muttered under his breath.

Kili sent Tauriel a very dirty look out of the corner of his eyes, but managed a quick nod.

"For elves, this doesn't count as a kiss." Tauriel pressed her lips to the skin right behind Kili's ear. He about jumped three feet in the air in shock, he clamped his hand over the spot and stared at her with wide eyes.

She smiled sadly. "Thranduil is a warrior millennia old. He has guards. Every day. Every night. It is no reflection on you or your abilities."

Balin nodded sagely. "Mordor is awake and who knows what they are capable of. Death nearly came for you tonight at dinner. Prince Kili. Please."

Kili swallowed his pride and nodded at them, his hand still clamped to the side of his neck. Balin nodded back, and gestured for Tauriel to follow him.

Kili's eyes followed hers, and she turned back to smile at him tenderly. Elrohir walked up next to him. "Come." It was an invitation and did not sound like an order at least.


	33. In which there is no sleep

Two and four, over. Twist. Cover the pin. One and …three …, two and four, switch. Twist. Cover. Repeat. Repeat. Blink. One and … "Three".

Three, three, and three. Hard to work up into a smooth rhythm when your mind and fingers stumbled over such a simple thing as a number. "Three."

Erelinde's fingers stilled completely and she sat, staring. The lace was perfect. Perfectly wrong. She'd blown past the part where she had meant to change the pattern to add in the shapes needed for the overall piece. At least four rows needed to be undone.

"Three." She repeated out loud, her blue eyes confused and unsure as she stared at meticulously spun string she'd crafted and dyed herself earlier in the season. Absently her fingers rubbed the smooth wooden bobbins dangling from her work. At this rate she'd end up with nothing but a messy tangle, and not an elegant runner of lace. A commissioned piece from one of the Human places. Gondor? Yes. The current Steward's wife was expecting. And she was wanting the dead tree they loved so much worked into the lace. Normally, not a problem.

"Three." She repeated wearily, her breath flowing out in a deep sigh. The problem, of course, wasn't with the number itself. But in the memory of Fili's teasing voice promising her three kisses. Kisses!

Worse? Erelinde was pretty sure she'd agreed to it, though she wasn't quite sure how he'd maneuvered her into that. He was clever and manipulative and devious and …she sighed again. He was a complete distraction. She was already behind, what with the move from home to Erebor. Not that she regretted the travel. Looking around the crafting room, she felt ….safe, and strangely at home. Odd to think that a week here had her more comfortable than seven decades in her old home.

Stone instead of wood. Underground, instead of exposed. She did not have to worry about human raiders swooping in and destroying everything in their path. Not anymore.

The blond snorted and let go of her bobbins, staring unhappily at her incomplete work. No. Now she had to worry about goblins and poisoned ale and …. Erelinde moaned, dropping her chin in self resignation. "Fili."

She wasn't worried about goblins and ale, not really. She was worried about a certain arrogant crown prince. Which was silly. She was the dwarrowdam! Erelinde knew quite well that all she had to do was say him nay and it would end.

Only. Hadn't she already turned him down?

But if so, why was he still taking her to dinner tomorrow night? And declaring that he would have her first kiss? And the second and third at that. A slight buzz travelled lightly down her spine as she recalled his admission that it would be his first, second and third kiss as well.

He said he needed the practice to make them good rather than awkward. Erelinde frowned. What if SHE were the reason the kisses became awful or stumbling? She wasn't exactly the romantic type. She hadn't read story after story about great love, kissing, or anything like that.

She needed Sealyn and Brunere. Her friends had read all of those stories. No. Erelinde stood, then grimaced as several small metal pins slid out of her lap making pinging noises as they bounced off the rug and onto the stone floor. It spoke to her level of distraction that she'd dropped even one pin while working, much less several.

"What am I doing?" She muttered. Never before had anything pulled her from the thrall of her craftwork. Never before had something disturbed her so entirely that she'd been unable to lose herself in the twists and turns of creating. Until now.

Frowning sharply, Erelinde got down to pick up each fallen pin. It went against the grain to leave her area untidy, or straight pins where they could be lost or stepped on. Carefully she replaced the necessary pins back in the cushion her mother had hand sewn for her when she'd been quite young.

Her fingers stilled as she held onto the small pin cushion. Small. Too small. It was inadequate to hold what she needed for most of her work, especially the larger projects. Yet she knew she'd never be able to give up this one dear item from her past.

Sky-blue eyes saddened as she contemplated the fading colors of the material and the frayed braiding that decorated the piece. Fifty years since her mother's passing. Murder. From human raiders and bandits. Fifty years since she'd sought comfort in her craftwork to ease the pain of losing her mother and younger brother.

Was she really craft bound? Or was it the only safe place available to her, up there, above ground?

Erelinde winced, thinking of her poor father. He wanted her so badly to find a husband and a family, but he was proud of her either way. Had she let him down? Had she been letting him down for half a century?

Erebor. New start? She couldn't seem to banish the image of laughing blue eyes and a teasing grin framed by dimples. And mustache beads. Erelinde snorted lightly in sad amusement. If she let things continue, she'd find out first hand if those beads interfered with kissing.

Give him an inch and she knew she'd find herself entangled in his life as surely as she knotted string to form designs.

"No."

Startling herself, Erelinde looked up and realized …she didn't want that. If she decided to be courted, it would be HER decision. It wouldn't be because someone talked her into it, manipulated her. Besides. Fili was the crown prince of Erebor. Could he respect her or should he respect her if she was someone he could push around and lead where he wanted?

"No." The young dwarrowdam stiffened her spine as she repeated her word. She was unsure of herself, and her future. But that did not mean she wanted or needed to be pushed around. And until she was sure of what she wanted, there would be NO kissing.

Standing, the young blond looked around. No mirror. She'd have to go back to her room. Straighten her braids and wash her face. Then she had a dwarrow to find so she could explain herself.

She'd allow the dinner plans to stand. And she'd get to know Fili, as he'd requested. Demanded? But kissing was off the table. He'd said this wasn't a courtship, and as such …she did not have to give in to his ridiculous negotiations on kissing. And if … IF …she decided to allow him to court her, in the future …then they could decide on the matter of kisses.

Feeling better, now that she'd come to a conclusive decision, the dwarrowdam swept out of her crafting room with an air of determination.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Can't sleep?" Elladan asked the pacing blond dwarrow.

Fili shot a dark look at his second-father, who was seated quite comfortably by the fireplace and reading a book. The elegantly robed elf looked for all the world like he was relaxing and had no cares in the world. "She's going to try and get out of it, you realize."

Elladan studied the youthful dwarrow with cool gray eyes. He wasn't sure what words he could offer that would be helpful. "Perhaps you should speak with an older dwarrow for some ideas."

Fili waved a hand dismissively at the seated elf and continued his pacing. He'd removed all of his leathers and was down to his winter woolens, plain trousers and a dark shirt, unlaced at the throat. He still had his boots on and his second-father was willing to bet he was still well armed.

"There are breathing exercises that will assist to ease worry and focus the mind to tasks at hand." Elladan offered, amazed at how much he sounded like his own father, Lord Elrond. Even more amazed that he was offering advice that he'd often scoffed at as a younger elfling. To that thought he grinned. "Or we could go out to one of the training areas and spar a bit." Which was more in line with what he and his twin would do when chewing on something in their minds.

Fili looked up hopefully, about to agree when the outer door banged harshly against the frame. As if it had been kicked.

Elladan's eyebrows rose and then the door flew open to slam against the wall with great force. Kili grinned at them both from the entrance and juggled the two small kegs of ale in his hands to keep from dropping them. Small they might be compared to the larger containers, but they were still awkward to carry two of them and still open a door.

Fili grinned appreciatively. "Saved from breathing exercises." He murmured and hurried forward to take one of the kegs from his younger sibling. "Just the thing!"

Elladan sighed with resignation and shook his head with amusement. "Did you check it for poisons?"

Kili expressively flicked his gaze upwards and the elf noted the golden circlet surrounding his son's forehead. "Cool as a root vegetable stored in a cellar during winter."

The elf lord blinked twice, trying to mentally work through the metaphor. "I see …" He said slowly. Then he shrugged. "A nice cup of ale might be just the thing to help ease you two into getting some sleep."

As he said that Fili tapped open the first keg, holding it up and gulping down the first gush as the spray of ale coated his face, beard, and shirt. Finally the dwarf pushed in the tap that would allow the ale to be measured out by the cupful.

Elladan stared down at the now wet carpet with a bit of disbelief.

Kili laughed at the look on his father's face and pulled a generous mug of the fresh ale and handing to the elf. "Here."

Elladan held the heavy mug and stared at it a moment before taking a sip.

Kili sighed, getting himself a drink as he shook his head. "Not like that." He grinned and threw back his head, downing the mug in one fell swoop.

Fili's smile widened as he nodded at his sibling, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he knew full well they were disconcerting the elf who was supposed to be guarding them. "Tauriel back?"

Kili's smile faded around the edges a bit, but he nodded gamely enough. "Shut in with Thorin. Elrohir is out with Glorfindel and some more dwarrow warriors."

The blond prince's smile disappeared into a look of cautious concern. "Problem?"

"Unsure." Kili shrugged. "Maybe. There might be signs that we're being watched by Mordor closer than we'd thought. Or simply goblins out for revenge. Or someone else entirely."

Elladan nodded slowly. "Wise. We can't think that Erebor's only enemies come from Mordor. Discounting others might give them an advantage that we don't want them to have."

Fili shifted his weight slightly, but didn't object to the terminology. Though he did wonder about the elf using 'we' when describing Erebor's enemies. Like the words 'fond' and 'son' that Elladan had used earlier, he filed them away. For now.

"Am I interrupting?" The sweet lyrical voice belonged to Arwen, as she stood in the still open doorway. Her arms were laden with extra blankets and pillows. "I thought these might be needed."

Kili shook his head, even as he gestured for his elvish aunt to enter the room. "Elrohir went out on patrol. Fili and I are used to roughing it, and my ….Elladan, well I doubt he'll sleep really. He'll probably do that weird half-sleep while sitting up thing he did last time I stayed over."

Arwen and Elladan shared a telling look, but did not exchange words. Not out loud, but neither within the privacy of their minds. Both had caught Kuilaith's stumbling over using the elf's name, instead of calling him father. Elladan may have made progress, what with Kili telling a story about him at dinner, but the lad wasn't completely won over. Not yet.

Kili stared down into his cup, hesitating. "Father."

"Yes?" Elladan answered quickly.

The dark-eyed prince looked up, his eyes a bit bright. "No. I just meant, you're my father." He ended on a weaker tone of voice than he'd begun. But he didn't back away from the words.

"Yes." The elf's voice repeated the word as an affirmation, rather than a question. "I am."

Arwen smiled, wanting the two males to be more comfortable in each other's presence, but unsure how to bring that about. She looked at Fili, but he was filling a mug with ale. Her eyes travelled the well-appointed guest room and breathed out heavily in relief as she saw the small table. "Cloudy-head!"

Fili grinned behind his mug, downing it as he waited until he swallowed to laugh. Absently he winced and rolled one shoulder to ease the pull on his still healing lung. He was getting a lot better, but laughing too much still hurt.

Noting his discomfort, Arwen was immediately regretful. "Sorry."

The crown prince shook off her apology and pointed toward the board. "Set it up."

The elf-maid smiled winningly and hurried over to the table. Her older brother came to stand behind her as she placed her six tiles on the table in a certain order.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman swirled the wine in his glass, heedless of the fine vintage he was paying no mind to. His thoughts were elsewhere.

Here in Erebor he had not the use of the Palantir, the great Seeing-Stone that had graced the tower of Orthanc built by the Dunedain. Now Isengard. Now his.

He'd wanted to create more of them. Turning his stone into something of a master stone. But the means eluded him still. Saruman had hinted, and then outright asked, Sauron about making more of the stones. But the Dark Lord turned away all the questions, focusing instead on the need to find the One Ring.

Saruman frowned slightly, his brow furrowing a bit as he lost himself in thought. Perhaps Sauron didn't know how, or it was beyond him.

Perhaps he needed information from another source. The Dunedain were those that received the Palantiri for use in Arda. Yet they were not the originators. No. The Seeing-Stones had been created by the Noldor of Eldamar and that knowledge was lost. He'd already searched the libraries of Isengard, Imladris, and Lothlorien. And if Sauron did not have the information …then no one did.

The wine in the glass stilled.

Elves, Humans, Wizards …what if he was overlooking the obvious. Dwarves. They were crafters. Makers. Could? No. They were naught but stupid dwarves. Nothing. Less than nothing. Only Gandalf would entangle himself with such as these.

And yet …

Surely there was a library here? Perhaps ….

The wine glass started moving again, and the ruby liquid swirled around and around but never flowing over the rim.

Saruman nodded with grim determination. In his disguise as a defender against Sauron he would request permission to look through the library and gathered knowledge of the dwarves. What could it hurt? It might give him a clue about the Palantir. And it would help him spend the time here for suspicions to die away.

Brinarg's death had been a necessary, but still risky, move. The dwarf had turned into a liability, and one that could not be counted on to follow orders precisely.

The whole mess with the repugnant dwarve's murder and shoddy frame of the elf-lass had led to Brinarg trying to poison the King and his heirs in one horrendous move. Or so Saruman hoped it would seem.

Even if someone did think it too easy, what could they prove? Nothing. And on the surface, it looked like the poisoner had taken his own life in despair over having missed his targets.

So. Saruman had killed off his servant, Brinarg. And it had been he himself that had used the poison within the keg of ale. It had been a risky move, but an elegant one.

Dwarves were such greedy creatures, they should have downed their ale with gusto …and died. The elves would have survived, no doubt taking a moment before drinking their ale and then noticing the immediate response to such a strong poison upon the dwarves. It would have killed off Thorin and his heirs, devastated Elrond's family …including Galadriel, and it would have looked like he himself had been in danger as well.

Only … there had been a Sensing-Stone upon the table. One no doubt sung into being by the Lady Galadriel herself. No worries. The poisoning had still left it looking like Mordor was behind the act, and not he.

Too bad the Blood Brat, as he had named Kili within his mind, lived. But maybe it was to the good. Dangling that princling over the precipice of danger still drew the elve's attention away. He made such a fine distraction. Perhaps he had been too hasty to decide to do away with his miserable life. So. Kili would live.

At least for a little while longer.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Calbrinia Stonefolk shook the fresh snow off her boots with disgust, throwing back her heavy hood. Before taking care of her clothing, she checked her weapons for excess moisture.

She cared for her blades and the small axe-blade she carried strapped to her back before any other consideration. It was after those items were tended, that she threw off her sodden cloak and toed off her boots.

Her father, Sigan, wandered into the utility room clucking his tongue at her. "You should have returned hours ago."

Calbrinia eyed her father, resigned to what she'd find. A bearded dwarf who wore braids declaring him a merchant of high standing. One braid stated he was proficient with axe and sword, though it had been years since she'd seen him practice with either. "With so many gone, we have had to increase the guard rotation."

Sigan nodded absently. "Yes, yes." He then pointed at the hearth. "I left the soup heating for you. I'll go put on my winter gear and take a turn at watch."

Grateful, Calbrinia smiled. She had no illusions about her father as a warrior, but she never doubted him either. A merchant wasn't just a person of business, but had the need to protect his income source as well. Her father may prefer to stay indoors on a night like this, but he'd do his part.

"Dain and his folk might have to hold up somewhere." Sigan commented, unaware how the words would strike his beautiful daughter. "He should be coming back through here in the next week or so, but this storm may change all of that."

Calbrinia paused as she ladled out the hearty, and hot, soup. She swallowed around the disappointment clogging her throat. "I hope not."

Sigan waffled a hand as he made some hot tea for his daughter. "Mik says maybe not. The birds aren't indicating the storm will be too terrible. The passes may not close yet. It's still early in the season. But the snows won't hold off forever."

Nodding, the dwarrowdam busied herself with eating. It kept her from having to talk about it.

If Dain and the others got stopped by the snows, they'd have to hole up somewhere. Not so bad …if they were HERE. At least to Calbrinia's way of thinking. But they weren't here, not yet.

She looked outside the window at the falling snow, as if willing it to stop.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

King Thorin II of Erebor, King Under the Mountain, had a lot on his mind.

Repairs. Defense. Supplies. Personnel. Assassins. Mordor. Elves. Dwarven politics. His sister. More elves.

He frowned, staring at the red-head lass that had taken his sister-son's heart. Frankly, he didn't see what the lad saw in her. Not physically at least.

Yes, she was brave and loyal. Strong and smart. But she was so … stretched out, thin, and lacking in proper curves. Foreign to all his tastes. Maybe it was the fault of the lad's mixed blood?

Tauriel, as if sensing his inner consideration of her, shifted and turned away from Dwalin to look in his direction.

Sapphire blue eyes met emerald ones. He snorted a bit, an appropriate analogy deep within a working mine, he supposed.

"I swear that what I saw …"

Thorin held up one hand authoritatively, halting her words. "I do not doubt you." And to his surprise, he found he was being truthful. He did trust her word. "The deliberate wiping away of signs is as sure as any sign within itself. We are being watched."

"Closely." Dwalin growled with ill-temper.

The King nodded, agreeing completely. He continued to stare at the she-elf before him. One who had participated in taking him and his prisoner. One who had held him and the others behind bars. In cells. One who had chased after them during their escape, and he had no doubt she would have returned them to their cells if they'd been caught.

Yet.

She'd defied her king. Saved Kili's life, and then turned right around and defended Lake Town and BOTH his heirs. This long-legged elf had fought against sure death to reach him and the lads on the battlefield. And she had lef her home behind.

Thorin rubbed his chin and eyed the rough stone caged in gold wire now hanging around the creamy column of her neck. He had no illusions about who had made it or given it to her. His blue eyes lifted to the beads in her hair. Beads that declared her …what? Willing to follow their culture?

"You love him."

All talk stopped. Balin and Dwalin both fell silent, unsure why the sudden change in topic. And not sure of the king's mood, or what kind of answer he was hoping to get from the elvish lass.

Tauriel stared back at the king, not dropping her gaze. Perhaps that was brazen, and perhaps it was unwise, she could not help herself. Her eyes remained connected with that of King Thorin as she nodded her head. There was no need to ask whom he was speaking about, no need at all.

"Say it." His voice sounded deceptively mild.

"I love him."

Thorin continued to stare, and she continued to meet him head on. Both fell silent. Neither Dwalin nor his brother dared to speak.

Finally the king gave a terse nod. "It won't be easy for you."

"It won't be easy for either of us." She lifted her chin defiantly. Before she'd met Kili she never would have thought of leaving her kin, travelling to new places, or speaking thusly to any monarch.

"This isn't a love poem. Love doesn't always end happy, or pretty." Thorin pointed out, his voice still even and mild.

Tauriel shook her head slightly. "You have not heard enough elven love sagas. Very few end happily."

"Then why do you want to be in love?"

If the question surprised her, it did not show. The elf stared at the king a moment, then gave a small smile. "I don't want to be in love." She answered with plain, bald truth.

"Wise." Thorin allowed with a nod of his own, though if he was surprised by her answer he did not allow it to show. "Love makes us vulnerable."

"It hurts." She said without inflection. "It confuses."

Thorin grunted and took a deep breath. "And yet, you're in love."

Tauriel bowed her head in acknowledgement of the words. "I am."

"Why?"

The elf did him the courtesy of taking him seriously. "Love is not a recipe. You don't look at someone and think, oh …they're pretty and nice, I think I'll fall in love."

"Indeed." Balin spoke up for the first time, his eyes looking kindly upon the she-elf as he judged her words. He didn't know how Thorin was thinking about her, but he had yet to find fault with the lass. Other than that she wasn't a dwarrowdam, of course.

"What is it about him?" Dwalin asked pointedly, cautiously.

Tauriel looked at the three and considered her options. None were Kili's father, but from what she'd gathered, these were the three males who raised him along with his mother and brother. These were the ones he looked to, the ones he called family.

Taking a steadying breath, she shrugged. "He shines."

Thorin's forehead furrowed with distaste, the first sign that he wasn't pleased by her answers. "Eldar light or whatever it is the elves awoke in him?"

"No." Tauriel paused, considering. "At least I think not. I did not believe him to be other than a pure Dwarf upon our first meeting. Never had a clue until after the battle with the goblin army."

Dwalin grunted, as if unsure.

The red-head continued, even as she searched her own feelings. "He had a force within him, something that made me look back every time I tried to walk away. I did not want to like him."

Balin actually chuckled. "Impossible not to like the lad." He muttered, drawing a smile even from the more dour Dwalin.

"He could make me smile." Tauriel said simply. "He talked of travel, and wildlife, his mother, and of nothing important. But he has a way of talking about nothing and making it _something."_

Thorin shared a look with first Balin, then Dwalin. His earlier unease with her answers fading as he gave a wan smile. They knew what the elf spoke of, even as the elf struggled to define her feelings into words.

"He made me care." Tauriel grimaced. "I put it badly. I am not an uncaring person, but he makes me see deeper." She shook her head. "I do not know if I have the right words. I am no poet."

Balin looked at Thorin and judged the moment. He shook his head in a grandfatherly fashion. "You've done fine, lass. Love is …undefinable. Otherwise, it would be common. And for all the songs about love, real love. It's elusive and often difficult to find."

"Come." Thorin stood, holding out a hand to her. "It's not too late and I'm sure the lads are still up griping about being guarded. Kili will be glad to see your face."

Tauriel stared at the dwarven king, licking her lips a bit uncertainly. "I did not mean to love him."

Thorin smiled sadly. "Which only makes it truer." He bowed to her, and once more gestured for her to follow. "I do not know what you each see in the other, but …you can both be fools together I suppose."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"No, not that one." Elladan leaned over his sister's chair, pointing. "You have a chance to capture the midstem if you move there."

Fili kept his expression blank as he watched. Kili wasn't even bothering to look, laying back on the bed and throwing a puzzle ball up in the air and lazily catching up. "I wouldn't." He said in a sing-song voice.

"You're not even paying attention." Elladan looked over at his son with a slight frown touching his lips.

"I still wouldn't." Kili called out, tossing the wooden sphere back into the air and catching it easily.

Arwen puckered her lips in deep thought, her eyes moving slowly over the board. She'd added seven pieces, but Fili had an extra fourteen so far. She looked up at his bland face and winked.

Startled, the blond dwarrow looked down at the board then shook his head.

The she-elf reached out and deliberately ignored the ploy that would pull her onto the midstem place, and instead trapped two of his pieces in a corner.

Surprise lit Fili's expression, even as he nodded in approval. "She took the corner."

Kili's head popped up off the bed and he laughed. "Takes out how many?"

"Two. I still have a twelve advantage." Fili told his sibling. "Still, well done."

Elladan frowned.

Fili looked up at the tall elf and laughed. "If she'd taken the midstem, I could have swept her in three moves."

Arwen grinned.

"Now it'll take seven moves." Fili teased.

Arwen lost her grin as her eyes widened in distress. "Nooo!"

"Late evening?" Balin called from the doorway, pulling attention. He saw the Osthir Rakur game board and his whole face lit up. "Most excellent way to spend an evening!"

Dwalin followed behind his brother, sending a frown at Fili. Though if he had an objection to the lad teaching a dwarven game to the elves, he kept it to himself. "Parched."

"There." Kili threw out an arm and pointed. "We drained one, but the other is still half full."

"Half-empty." Dwalin commented, the age-old argument something the two of them had debated since Kili had learned to talk. "I could drink that on my own. I'll get more."

Elladan looked up, ready to protest that they didn't need more ale since they'd be going to bed soon. But catching sight of King Thorin and Tauriel entering the room belayed his words. He straightened up and bowed his head in a polite greeting.

Kili sat up so fast he nearly slid off the side of the bed as the fabric of the blanket was smooth and without traction. He grinned at the red-headed elf and she smiled back at him, her fingers going to the necklace he'd gifted to her just an hour or so ago.

"Elrohir and the others should be gone for a few more hours." Thorin looked around the room, his eyes settling on the game board. He looked surprised to see Arwen studying the board as if her life depended on it. "You're losing." He commented.

The she-elf looked up with a flash of temper in her usually sweet gaze. "I know. But Fili says he'll beat me in seven moves. If I take him to eight or nine, it's an improvement."

Considering that, Thorin nodded thoughtfully. He walked over and looked at the board. After a long moment he pursed his lips. "It can be done, but you'll still lose in the end. But I could take him to eleven moves at least."

Balin hurried over, eager to participate. "I see ten at most, no, no …there's the eleventh. Twelfth if Fili makes a mistake."

"Which Fili won't do." Said the blond of himself.

Arwen went back to studying the board.

Balin stroked his white beard and spoke in the same voice he'd used long ago to teach the brothers the basics. "You've been playing defense. You need to head onto the offensive."

Elladan shook his head, waving a hand over the board in a graceful move. "She has fewer pieces, offense would be a mistake."

"She's losing. Mistakes are all that are left." Kili called out from the bed, earning a glare from both Balin and Thorin. "I could still win that game."

Elladan looked exasperated as he threw a glance at his son, who was smiling at Tauriel. "You haven't even looked at the board!"

Kili turned and flashed a quick smile at his sire. "Bet me."

Thorin and Balin both froze and then both began to chuckle. "Don't do it." The white-haired dwarf advised.

Elladan considered his son, then Balin, and finally looked down at the board. "Perhaps that wouldn't be wise."

Kili shrugged. "If I lose, I have to learn how to breathe like an elf."

Meditation. Centering your inner self. Key to the elvish way of doing …well, just about everything. Elladan considered how much his son hated sitting still and doing 'nothing' as he put it. "And if you win?"

"A walk. Unchaperoned." The dark-haired prince smiled slowly at the love of his life.

Tauriel's eyebrows rose in amusement. "That won't necessarily get you anything you don't already have."

"It would mean I wouldn't be watched." Kili rejoined. "It's enough."

"I want to watch you breathe." Fili heckled his sibling, rocking back his chair so that it was only on two legs and not four.

Elladan shrugged. "I'm not in charge of your chaperones."

"I am." Thorin coughed and then shrugged. "One walk?"

Kili grinned and nodded. Then he cocked his head at his father. "From you? Hmmm …. "You have to learn three stories, one of Fili's da, one of Thorin and one of Thrain and tell them in the main dining hall tomorrow night. If I win."

Elladan groaned, but nodded. It was Thorin who held up one hand. "Hold. You know what you want from me if you win, your unsupervised walk. But if I win the bet?"

Kili grinned and shrugged.

"You drink nothing but milk and water for a month." Thorin's smile turned feral.

Kili stopped and stared at his uncle in disbelief and horror. "But …"

"Well, if it's not worth the bet …" Balin's voice trailed off.

Kili's chin suddenly jutted forward and he stalked over to the board, studying the pieces carefully. He twisted his mouth and then glanced at Fili.

The blond prince shrugged, lacing his fingers behind his head. "You have no chance."

Kili looked down at the board, then over at Tauriel. "I'll risk it."

"Laddie, don't be losing now." Balin shoved Fili's shoulder.

Arwen got up and made way for Kili, who slipped into her still warm chair. "Good luck."

"Unfair." Fili looked over at her. "You keep telling me you're my aunt too."

"Good luck." She grinned and whispered the words at him.

"I return, with ale and visitors." Dwalin's voice sounded cautious, pulling everyone's attention.

Erelinde looked like a lost lamb, standing as she was with Lady Galadriel behind her. "I was trying to find Prince Fili, but he wasn't in his room." She sounded embarrassed, obviously not used to being around kings and elves and the like. It had been one thing to arrive at dinner at Fili's request, and quite another thing to be seen seeking out his presence.

The crown prince stiffened, feeling suddenly slovenly in his state of undress. Yes he had on a loose shirt and trousers, but his fine leathers were thrown over a small chest next to the bed. He started to stand.

Thorin put his hand down heavily on his heir's shoulder, pushing him back into his seat where the chair settled loudly back onto all four legs. "You have a game to win first."

Dwalin looked back and forth between Fili and Kili. When he'd left, Arwen had been the opponent. He looked questionably over at his own sibling.

Balin shrugged. "There are bets."

Dwalin nodded and then shrugged, opening one of the two new kegs he'd brought.

"Hold." Thorin pointed over at the kegs.

Tauriel moved over next to the bald warrior and waved her new necklace over them both, the stone never glowed.

Galadriel stared at the stone wrapped in gold wire, and then over at the two princes.

Kili flushed and pointed up at the golden circlet on his head, mutely telling his father's mother's mother that he was adequately protected.

_"It is fine, and indeed shows your heart to advantage."_

Kili shifted in his seat, uneasy that he could hear the Lady so clearly and yet not see her mouth form the words. He daringly met her eyes and deliberately crossed his at her. She smiled softly at him.

Thorin looked around the room and then gave out a huge laugh, shaking his head. "Couldn't have it better if it had been planned! Fili won't lose in front of Stormrune, and Kili won't lose in front of Tauriel. It's actually a fair assessment."

"If it were fair, we'd start over from the beginning. Even playing board." Kili said in a small voice, sounding hopeful.

"You made your bet, now you're stuck with milk and water for a month." Fili grinned evilly. "And breathing."

"Or I humiliate you in front of …well, everyone." Kili pointed out coolly.

Elladan looked a bit uncomfortable as he spoke up. "It's not too late to call this off."

Every dwarven eye turned to glare at him and the elf held up his hands as if in surrender.

"Before beginning your wagers." Lady Galadriel's voice stilled them all, as if cutting to their very cores. "Kuilaith will begin training with me each afternoon."

Kili's hand shook enough that he put it down on the arm of his chair, turning wide eyes on the shining lady. She smiled at him, but strangely he didn't feel comforted. "As in a bet? If I lose?"

"Win or lose, you come to see me tomorrow afternoon and each following afternoon." Galadriel's voice didn't hold any room for misreading her intent.

Thorin cleared his throat, staring at the elf witch. He opened his mouth to protest.

_"Someone tried to kill that which we both love. More than once, and they grow bolder. He needs to be able to protect himself on more than one level."_

King Thorin's mouth closed as he heard the Lady's voice within his head.

"I was willing to wait until he was ready. But our enemies are not so accommodating."

The dwarven king made a face of anger and disapproval, while at the same time he nodded his head in acquiescence. "It shall be so." He reluctantly agreed through gritted teeth.

Kili's eyes, already wide, about melted with shock. "What? No. Really? No."

The entire force of Thorin's will swung around and stared right into the eyes of his sister's son. Kili drew back with a sharp hiss, sensing his uncle's resolve. "You will obey."

The dark-haired prince licked his lips.

Thorin's glare deepened and his fists clenched.

Kili nodded quickly, bowing to the inevitable. He'd speak more on this with his uncle later, but for now he agreed.

Finished with what she came for, Galadriel swept regally from the room, all eyes on her.

Balin coughed and shrugged apologetically over at Elladan and Arwen. "She's really something."

Elladan's eyebrows raised and he shook his head. "I do not know the 'something' you refer to, and this phrase is new to me. But if you mean that there is no comparison to her, then I would but agree."

Fili banged his hand on the table, his words for his sibling, but his eyes on Erelinde. "Go ahead. It's your move."

"Actually, it's yours." Arwen pointed out. "I cornered your two."

"Which gives you an added move." Balin waved a hand at the board. "Well, not you anymore. Kili?"

But Kili's mind was still buzzing with the thought of having to see Lady Galadriel tomorrow. Many tomorrows actually. "How long will these sessions she wants last?"

"Until she is satisfied." Came the cryptic response from Lady Arwen, who gave him a small smile of encouragement. "You'll be fine. Now. You have a game to win."

Kili sighed.

Fili grinned at his brother. "Unchaperoned."

"Fili!" Both Thorin and Kili turned to glower darkly at the young blond dwarrow with expressions so similar it took Elladan by surprise. The tall elf stared a moment and then gave a look to Dwalin.

The bald warrior shrugged and nodded. "He doesn't get everything from the elves."

Elladan nodded as Kili reached out to make his first move.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Milk and water." Kili groaned into the darkness, staring up at the ceiling which he could barely make out anyway.

"Shut up and fall asleep." Fili groaned back at him, lying on his side.

"You won, you arse. Now I'm drinking baby things and having to take lessons on breathing."

"Game lasted two more hours and you took it to over thirty moves. I know, because I lost count after the first hour!" Fili groused.

"Oh, you're just angry because Erelinde told you she was not going to consent to being courted." Kili poked at his brother's ill mood.

Fili ground his teeth together in the darkness, clenching the blanket in one fist. "She agreed to allow me to keep our dinner scheduled."

"All that sweet talking and she refused to change her mind." Kili pointed out, his own temper riled enough to keep him prodding at his brother.

"Enough." Elladan spoke up from near the hearth. "No one made you take those bets Kuilaith. And the lessons in centering your mind will be very good for you, it will improve your weapon skills."

"Breathing." Snorted the dark-haired prince in disgust. "I should have asked the Lady to help me win."

Elladan drew in an amused breath and shook his head in the dark. "She wouldn't have done that." A slight pause as the elf lord sighed. "Fili, you still have the fishing trip."

The blond scowled in the darkness, lit only by the hearth fire across the room. "Hardly a consolation."

"You don't think she'll enjoy the trip?" Elladan asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. "Did she not agree to come? Is this not the same as dinner? You told us that she said she was not ready for courting but that she would continue to get to know you."

Fili frowned further, but this time in confusion. "She's coming fishing with us?"

Elladan hesitated. "I was trying not to listen to your conversation with her in the crafting room, but her father and I both heard her mention fishing."

The blond snorted derisively. "She said I was fishing for a compliment." He then chewed this new information over in his head. "Her father thinks she's going fishing with us?"

"Yes."

Kili sighed and nudged his brother in the side lightly. "That could work for you." He tried not to sound bitter.

Fili nudged his brother back with his elbow. "You're having breakfast with Tauriel."

"And a chaperone." The younger brother whined in the darkness.

Elladan sat in the semi-darkness listening to the two young dwarves. Not looking at them made him hear more. He leaned back in his seat. "Kuilaith?"

A rustling sound, then a soft snort. "Yes?"

"Do you promise to put your all into the meditation sessions, and fully cooperate with Lady Galadriel?"

Another snort. "Do I have a choice?"

Elladan smiled in the partial darkness, running a hand over his smile to hide it in case either brother could see him. "Every action is a choice."

Fili rumbled out a deep laugh and threw his arm over his eyes. "That is an Elvish answer if I ever heard one."

"You mean a true answer?" Came the reply in a snider manner than either brother had heard Elladan yet use.

"Yes, father." Kili said with false meekness, drawing further laughter from both Fili and Elladan. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

The elf lord continued to chuckle. "Your best behavior? The thought terrifies me."

Fili's laughter intensified and the entire bed shook as he fought to catch his breath as his still healing lung protested sharply. "Ow, ow, ow!"

"Serves you right." Kili pouted.

"Your father is on to you!" The blond prince's breathing turned heavy as he fought to keep from laughing too hard.

"If." Elladan stressed the word strongly. "If you pay attention and put effort in all that I, Elrohir and Lady Galadriel have to teach you? Then I will speak with your Uncle Thorin and request that you and Tauriel can have some limited time alone. Possibly for meals?"

Kili held his breath for a moment, realizing it was an important offer. "Bribery?"

"Will bribery work?" The elf father tried.

Fili smiled as he listened to the duo. "Are you trying bribery because you know how greedy dwarves are?"

"I'm trying bribery because I can tell how desperately Kuilaith would like to spend time with Tauriel." He smiled to himself. "And I know how difficult it will be for my son to learn how to center his thoughts and learn these Elvish things."

"Do I have to learn how to center myself and breathe?" Kili asked almost desperately.

"Only if you want to become stronger. Possibly stronger than Dwarves, Elves or Humans since you hold the blood of all three."

Dark eyes blinked in the partial lighting of the room. He didn't want to do this. Why? Was it a betrayal of his dwarven blood? No. He wouldn't turn his back on his bloodlines. But did that include all the bloodlines?

"I've seen Legolas fight." Kili finally spoke up. "I've seen Tauriel fight. I got a glimpse of you and yours cutting your way through goblins. The Lady put me to sleep with some words and a touch, and her stones can tell when there's poison. Glorfindel fought a dragon, and won. Not just angered one and sent it winging off."

Fili listened, his heart torn on the matter. Yet above all, he wanted for Kili whatever was best for him. Licking his lips, he kept quiet.

"There's nothing wrong with being a Dwarf. We're strong. We're stone. Elves have lost battles before."

"Yes." Elladan agreed, his heart touched as he recalled friends and loved ones he had lost over the passing millennia. "And no, there's nothing wrong with being a dwarf. Without the dwarves the last Great Alliance would have failed."

"Without Erebor assisting, the Mirkwood would fall to Mordor." Fili finally spoke up, his voice solemn now.

Elladan nodded. "Perhaps that is so. More than probably so."

"What if I can't do it?" Kili breathed his doubts into being. "What if I can't be more than I am already?"

Fili reached back and punched his brother in the chest, pulling a muttered curse in Khuzdul from the younger dwarrow.

Elladan heard the longing and the fear in his son's voice. Heard it and his heart responded instantly. "You are all that I could ask for in a son already, Kuilaith."

Fili's blue eyes closed with instant moisture as he heard the truth in the elvish father's voice, as he heard the quiet pride.

"I can't move like the elves. All flowing like water and air and a leaf on the wind."

"How do you know if you don't bother to try?" Fili choked on the words, his voice deepening into a rasp. He cleared his throat. "I'd bet on you."

"I as well."

Kili heard the support, but grimaced darkly. "What if I disappoint you?" He meant either of them.

"Never." Avowed Fili immediately.

Elladan took a deep breath and spoke with utter resolution. "If you try and fail, I will still be proud. Only not trying would be wrong. But even if you walk away and refuse, you will ever be my son. I am already proud of all you have achieved and that will never change."

"Kili? I know you'll be better than fine." Fili supplied.

"Yes?"

"Definitely." The blond grinned suddenly even as his voice remained solemn. "How could you not get stronger, you're drinking nothing but milk and water for the next month."

The next thing Fili knew was that his brother's pillow struck him in the face while his brother's weight settled over his chest. He could hear a loud buzzing in his ears while he struggled to breathe and throw Kili off of him. And he was pretty sure the buzzing noise was actually Elladan protesting from across the room.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin cut into his morning hot cakes, glaring at his two heirs. Kili had a black eye and Fili's lip was swollen and obviously cut.

The dwarven king looked over at the embarrassed elven father and raised a single eyebrow.

Elladan shrugged. "I was protecting them from assassination, I did not know I needed to protect them from each other."

Thorin sighed and kept chewing.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were listening you might have heard the scream as my computer shut off unexpectedly and took with it several paragraphs. Twice. The anguish could have been worse, gotta love "save", only I didn't save right before the shut offs. Sigh.


	34. In which Kili attends his lessons

"When was the last time you took a break?" Balin quietly announced his presence as Thorin finally lifted his head up out of the myriad of papers he was poring over. He and those with him had waited in silence for the king to pause in his writing, not wanting to interrupt.

Exhausted, the king rubbed his eyes. "I think my eyes are blurring." He looked over at Balin, Gloin and Bofur. "Or are there three of you?"

"You need sleep." Balin stepped back in surrender, holding up his hands which were unfortunately not empty.

Thorin blinked and sighed as he saw the sheaf of papers in his counselor's hand. "More?"

"Just think, you travelled across Arda on an impossible quest, struggled, bled, and nearly died on several occasions. You faced horrendous foes, including a death-dealing dragon and Mordor controlled goblins." Balin grinned weakly with forced humor. "And THIS is your reward!"

"A treasury of paper." Thorin's eyelids closed slowly over his exhaustion dulled gaze. "Come closer so I don't have to leap so far when I kill you."

"Could be worse." The king's friend and advisor offered in a gentle voice. "You could be stuck drinking milk and water for another two weeks like Kili. Don't know how the lad has lasted."

Gloin snorted in derision, speaking up for the first time as Bofur chuckled. "He's not lasted. If I were to wager, I'd say someone has slipped him some ale or mead."

Bofur's lips pressed together and he slid his gaze upward toward the ceiling.

Thorin, catching the miner's expression, sighed with resignation. "I thought you served me, not my heirs?" He teased, his voice south of happy.

The hatted dwarf shrugged off the comment and smiled. "I wasn't the first. He had an empty travel pouch already. And it didn't smell like milk."

Gloin rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Bombur is a soft touch." He commented dryly.

Balin shook his head. "Fili caved first, you know he did. Can't stand to see his brother miserable."

Thorin grimaced in irritation, even as he silently agreed. "Anyone else?"

The ginger-bearded merchant shrugged. "No matter. Lad is still in misery. Mornings spent with his elvish father, and afternoons with the Wood Witch. He comes out of those lessons looking pale and shaky, it's no wonder people are taking pity on him and sneaking him some ale."

Thorin's sapphire blue eyes turned on his cousin and he snorted in amusement. "You gave him ale too." He guessed as he pointed with an accusatory finger for emphasis.

Gloin grumbled a bit, stumbling over his words and then gave an apologetic look to his king. "Like I said, miserable. Couldn't stand to see him like that."

"And don't think the lad doesn't know it either, and as for how sad he looks …" Bofur smoothed down his mustache while he spoke up. "Doesn't help that Tauriel has been out patrolling with Dwalin so much."

Thorin scowled. "Necessary." He said gruffly and without apology. "I'm not actually trying to hurt Kili."

Balin's eyes sparked with his attention getting caught by the sympathy in his friend's voice. He peered closer at his king, who suddenly wasn't meeting his eyes. "You've given the lad some ale too!"

Thorin sighed, stood and stretched largely, loud popping noises coming from his neck and pulling apologetic looks from Gloin and Bofur. "No. I have NOT given Kili any ale. Not a single drop."

Balin paused, hearing the truth in the words. But knowing his king as he did, there was more to hear. "Something besides milk and water though." It was both a statement and a question.

Thorin glowered heavily at his advisor, but this didn't cow the older dwarrow even slightly. Balin's smile widened. The king sighed and nodded. "Juice. Figured he needed the energy. No ale. We had a bet and he lost."

Gloin and Balin both nodded, accepting the words at face value. This time it was Bofur who eyed the king thoughtfully. Then the hatted dwarf laughed and asked the next obvious question. "What vintage was that juice?" He insinuated broadly.

"Don't you have a dwarrowdam to woo?" Thorin bit out the words with rising irritation, his temper not yet riled completely. "I can give you a bruise or two. Bleed you so you have an excuse to visit her in the healing halls."

Bofur shook his head, but didn't back away. His eyes were still showing his amusement though the dwarrow was obviously trying not to laugh further.

Balin shook his head. Juice. As in fermented. As in wine. "Hope it didn't have bubbles in that 'juice' you gave the lad. Wouldn't like to see Glorfindel pouting."

"What do I care about disappointing a damned elf?" Thorin asked in his haughtiest voice. He didn't admit that he'd not given Kili any of the sparkling vintages from within Erebor's cellars, just some nice red wines. Not ale though. A bet was a bet.

Balin and the others laughed and settled in to discuss the escalating costs in materials and labor for repairing the mines.

"Some odd holes." Bofur was saying, looking puzzled. "Big enough for a dwarf, but only barely. No room to really mine. Can't figure out their purpose. Nothing in the mining records that we've found either."

Thorin's mind tuned into the words of the miner's report, his attention snagged as he listened. "I don't recall anything like that." He admitted. "Though I was never as interested in the details of mining as much as my father wanted me to be."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I'm getting a headache. Again."

"From lack of ale, or too much air?" Came the droll response to the prince's complaint.

Kili's eyes slit open and he sent a harsh look toward his complacent looking father. The tall elf didn't look up from the book he had found in the Dwarven library, slowly turning a thick vellum page. "I thought you were interested in teaching me."

"Only when you become interested in learning."

The dark-haired prince let his head droop down heavily, his hair hanging on either side of his face as he sighed tragically. "I'm here."

"Physically."

Kili bit his tongue for about half a second. "Yes. Physically. I am sitting here. Breathing. Getting a headache. With no ale, no targets, no tasks, no Tauriel …"

"…no manners, no thought, no gratitude, no respect…. " Elladan continued in the same tone of voice his son was currently using.

"No choice." Kili bit out the words with more force than he'd intended, and the room fell into silence. The younger male waited, not looking over at his father this time. Finally he heard the soft sound of a book being closed gently. He winced. "I did not mean …."

"Didn't you?"

Kili grimaced and shook his head. "I'm just not good at this." He muttered quietly.

"You're not trying."

Now he ground his teeth for a moment and felt his shoulders tense up further. Deliberately he forced himself to relax as he slumped a bit. "Just admit it. I don't have enough elf in me to make this work."

Again came the quiet that stretched out between the two males, father and son. Kili did not know his sire well enough to read his emotions, but he was pretty sure whatever else there was, there had to be disappointment.

"Out of curiosity, do you talk back to the Lady of Light like this?" Elladan asked quietly, no hint of how he was feeling in his voice.

Kili peeked over at his father with one dark eye, keeping the other shut. "Uhm."

"No then." A quick smile, quickly gone from the elf's face. "It's just I who gets this treat."

"I'm not doing well with her either." The dark-haired prince rushed his words a bit. "You two are looking for something within me that just doesn't exist. I'm not an elf!"

"Actually. You are. You just don't want to be."

And there was the problem. Kili groaned and finally opened both eyes as his gaze turned to settle on his elven father.

"What are you afraid of?" Gray eyes met and held the youth's stare.

Kili stiffened his spine, sitting up straight. "Nothing." He treated the word 'fear' like any other dwarf. Like an insult.

"Lies told to ourselves are still untrue."

The young mixed-blood prince sneered, stung pride making his voice harsh. "More elvish wisdom?"

Elladan held up the book he was reading and waved it in the air. "From the third Durin, I believe. Quite a wise dwarf and king."

Blinking rapidly, Kili's mouth fell open slightly. "You're reading dwarvish history?"

"Why not? Turns out, I have a dwarvish son." Elladan put the book on the table with care, pushing it toward the center with two fingers. "Do you want to read it next?"

His father was making an effort to learn about the dwarves and their history? It made Kili highly uncomfortable and he shifted his weight as he sat on the rug, legs crossed. "What does Durin say on breathing?" He asked in a still snotty tone, though with less temper.

Ignoring the rudeness of his child, Elladan answered simply. "That breathing is a privilege, not a born right."

Kili stopped, searching his brain for a moment, trying to recall long-ago lessons that he and his brother had endured with Balin. "Wait. He was the one who said that stone doesn't need air, but dwarves do."

Elladan nodded slowly, encouragingly. "Meaning?"

Kili mumbled, then straightened his shoulders as he got up onto his feet. He walked over to the table and tried not to frown as he poured himself a cup of spring water. "I'm not a dwarfling being schooled anymore."

"Do you hate water so much?" Elladan asked casually, unaffected by his son's mood. At least he didn't appear bothered.

Kili shook his head with grim amusement. "Love water. No problem with water. Like milk too. Only not when every sip reminds me of losing."

"Ah. So it's pride, not taste, which was injured." Elladan mused as he watched his son carefully while trying not to look like he was doing so. "Stone doesn't breathe?" He prodded.

Kili nodded and finished off the water in one long pull from the mug. He eyed the elf watching him and then gave in, not having the energy to bother arguing. "Stone has no needs. If we wanted a perfect life, we should have remained stone. But the original seven fathers did not want to be destroyed and Iluvatar listened, granting Aule's desire for us to live with spirits of our own."

Elladan reached out and touched the fine leather covering the old volume with care. "It is the nature of dwarves to seek out and create, learn."

No matter how casually his father dropped the word 'learn', Kili felt the sting all the way through him. He put his mug down on the table slowly, to keep from slamming it down. "You're asking if I'm dwarrow enough? Do I have enough dwarf in my muddled blood to still want to learn new things?"

Elladan leaned in, pinning the dark-haired youth with his own gray eyed gaze. "Dwarf or Elf. Even Human. All have a curiosity and a thirst for learning."

Kili rolled his neck, trying to loosen the tension. He then met his father's gaze head on, looking upset. "I can't. I've tried."

"Two weeks? It takes even full-blood elflings longer than that." Elladan pitched his voice to sound as encouraging as possible.

"Sit and breathe. Sit and breathe. Picture in my head. Hold still. Sit. Sit. SIT!" Kili's breathing sounded heavy in the stillness that fell over the two males, father and son.

Elladan blinked first, his mind running over his child's worries. Finally he twitched his mouth slightly. "It's the sitting, isn't it?" He whispered, as if having discovered something of great importance.

Kili blinked, confused.

The elven father seemed to have come to some kind of decision. "Come, Kuilaith."

The young prince stood up, shaking his head, though not in denial. "Where?"

"Does it matter? As long as you're not sitting?"

"Will I be breathing?" Kili winced at the dumb sounding question. "I mean, breathing like we've been doing?"

"Yes. But you'll be moving, doing."

Dark eyes searched his father's face, but could find nothing mocking there. Slowly he nodded in agreement. "Anything is better than just sitting."

Elladan chuckled, but did not respond.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman was not someone put off by the little things. The lack of light and the near overwhelming preponderance of dust and grime might keep some of the others from exploring the great dwarven library of Erebor, but not he.

And in the two weeks since arriving here in the dwarven kingdom, the dwarrow had gotten used to seeing the cadaverous looking wizard wandering in and out of the libraries. Though they still whispered about him as he went, mostly about how he never seemed to get any of that dust or grime on him or his white robes.

Saruman didn't smile, but inwardly he was always pleased when he made someone uneasy. Made them wonder if he could do such small things as if it were nothing, what could the wizard do when he really put his mind to it?

Nothing. The bitter answer came to him from the very depths of his being.

Saruman's mind sobered and he snapped back into focus even as he made his way through to the main dining area. It galled him to eat with dwarves and he'd have much preferred a small tray in his room with cold soup or some crusty bread with cheese. Nothing fancy. He wasn't the type for fancy airs.

Sitting down at one of the long tables however, had him biting back a sneer. Overdone social graces were useless and for others, those who fell victim to believing themselves better and stronger than they really were. Like the elves.

The White Wizard looked down at his full plate and cup and suddenly felt no appetite. Looking around him at the teeming halls of Erebor and he couldn't help but feel sick.

All this life. All this industry and all they could do was run around tending to nonsense when not that far away Mordor's covetous eye was upon them. Not for their craft, or strength, or anything else that the dwarves would recognize. But to hold dominion over, because …well, what was Sauron's reasoning?

Saruman absently picked up a single grape, turning it over and over in his fingers. His long nails perfect and unchipped, the skin of the grape so strong and yet so delicate.

Saruman could not remember what he'd been like before he'd made his grand realization. How had he lived, how had he thought, how had he presumed?

Sauron was so much powerful than them all. The end. The end of everything. If the songs had created Arda, it was Sauron who would finish the song with destruction.

All Saruman could do was aid him in an effort to simply stay alive. The long familiar despair that he'd sunk into ate at the corners of his control. The grape in his hand squished into a messy goo between his two fingers as he watched dispassionately. At least he was dispassionate on the outside, inwardly he was railing against Sauron, life, and the unfairness of it all.

Still. He had one last hope. Help Sauron, remain independent of the Deceiver and garner his appreciation and thanks. Perhaps move west and take over some small bit of land out there? Rule it in Sauron's name? Yes. The Deceiver would allow that, wouldn't he?

Sauron would destroy everyone and everything in his path, the wizard was sure of it. Except …the wizard didn't plan to be IN the conqueror's path. He was clearing the path for Sauron.

For all his wisdom, intelligence, and power, that was all he could do in the face of such an overwhelming and magnificent PRESENCE.

The wizard absently picked up a napkin and wiped his hands, both symbolically and literally.

What would come, would come. Nothing could change Sauron's victory. The only hope Saruman had was to be of assistance.

The wizard's gaze flicked upwards imperceptively as some small movement caught his attention even in a sea of motion. Ignoring all others, his cold eyes followed the tall elf being followed by the mixed-breed mongrel at his heels.

How to break the delicate and yet strong alliance between elf and dwarf? How to smash them so completely that neither race could offer resistance to Sauron when the time came?

His eyes narrowed upon the dark-haired prince with morbid intent.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"He makes me uneasy." Brunere's gaze peeked toward the side, indicating the object of her discomfort.

Sealyn nodded carefully, pitching her voice into a whisper to match that of her friend. "He saved our lives." Though she wasn't disagreeing with the other dam's feelings. Her tone made it clear that while her words were true, she too felt the same way about the wizard dressed in white.

"He's not eating." The dwarrowdam wrinkled her nose and then dismissed the unfathomable from her mind. "Just stares."

Sealyn shrugged and spread thick creamy cheese over a piece of fresh baked bread. After taking a bite she frowned. "I could make better."

"The pantries here are half-hazard at best." Brunere commented. "The flour is not the best quality." She sighed and reached for the pitcher of water. "Erebor is going to take some time to rebuild properly."

"Someone is looking at you." Sealyn teased, her bright eyes sparkling with interest as she peered around her long-time friend. "Handsome, though he's got some gray in that beard. Though it gleams, I think he groomed in hopes that you'd turn and speak with him."

Brunere didn't need to look behind her. Ever since the two dwarrowdams had arrived within Erebor's vast halls, they'd been the subject of nearly every male eye. "I knew we'd get attention here. An unmarried king, two princes, and five hundred warriors …" Her voice trailed off suggestively.

Sealyn nearly choked on her food and she had to wash it all down quickly before she could manage to draw in a decent breath. Finally, she took that breath and nodded at her friend. "We should kill Calbrinia as soon as she arrives."

"Do you think it is going well for her?" Brunere asked, her violet eyes showing her concern for their other friend.

Sealyn shrugged. "If anyone can catch the Ironfoot's attention, it would be she." She offered loyally.

"Speaking of attention." Brunere cupped her hands together and used them to prop her chin upon as she leaned over the table. "Nori?" A soft and pretty blush immediately filled her friend's face. "Ahhh."

"Ahhh, nothing." Sealyn pushed aside her fellow dwarrowdam's interest. "He is so busy, but won't say doing what. How much time does a tavern take up when you're never IN your own tavern…."

Both females stopped as suddenly they were no longer alone. Surprise lit both of their faces as Erelinde sat down on the long bench next to Sealyn, her back to the table but turning so that she was facing sideways toward both of her friends.

Brunere blinked her eyes at the unexpected visit. "Erelinde?"

The dam's white-blonde braids hung becomingly around her face as she smiled weakly at her two friends. "Sorry to interrupt."

"You're not." Brunere supplied, her innate kindness and genuine friendliness making her reach out and catch one of the dam's hands across the table. "Is anything the matter?"

No less a friend, Sealyn smiled warmly. "I hear tell you've been keeping up with regular meals." Alluding to the now commonplace sight of Erelinde being escorted into the dining halls by a certain blond crown prince.

"I have some questions." Erelinde sounded uneasy, not like herself at all. Usually the crafter was on an even keel and completely unflappable unless you snarled up her yarns or mixed up her bobbins.

Sealyn's gaze focused on the beautiful dwarrowdam in concern. "Anything." She then shared a quick glance with Brunere.

The violet-eyed dam nodded. Or course their friend had questions! She'd taken the interest of one of the highest blooded dwarrow of …well, anywhere. One who wasn't put off by Erelinde's distraction by her crafting work.

"Have I been a bad friend?"

Both dwarrowdams drew back in some shock. This wasn't the type of question that either had anticipated. They glanced at each other again, trying to gauge how to respond.

"No …no." Brunere answered with some concern. "Erelinde?"

The white-blonde crafter shook her head, pinching in her lips in what should have made her look hard but didn't. Sealyn smiled on the inside, wondering if there was anything that could make her friend look bad. It wasn't fair.

"Why do you think you've been a bad friend?" Sealyn asked, shaking her head at someone she'd known just about all their lives. It wasn't like Erelinde to talk like this.

The youngest of the three dwarrowdams chewed her bottom lip indecisively for a moment. Another thing that wasn't really like her. Brunere leaned in closer. "What's wrong?" She asked gently. "Did the prince hurt your feelings?"

Sealyn nodded, thinking she might understand. Over the years there had been a number of dwarrow that were SURE they could change Erelinde's mind about marriage and courtship. A few had even started trying to blame her for their lack of progress, telling the beauty that she was obviously not up to snuff or else she'd already been married.

Come to think of that, a few had tried that on she and Brunere as well. "Don't listen to him."

Erelinde blinked absently at the two for a moment, then shook her head in denial. "No. No one has hurt my feelings."

"Then what is it, dwarf-girl?" Brunere teased with the long ago nickname. It had been given to the three of them several decades ago by a human merchant who couldn't seem to understand that the term 'girl' wasn't for dwarves. He'd never seemed to catch on that they should be addressed as dam or dwarrowdam, but then he'd been very old for a human and quite blind so they'd never been adamant in correcting him. In fact, they'd been quite fond.

Erelinde blinked rapidly at the reminder and then her expression crumbled.

Sealyn leaned in and wrapped an arm around her friend in alarm. "What?"

Erelinde shook her head. "Back then we were all friends."

"We're still friends." Brunere avowed without raising her voice.

The Stormrune dam sighed and didn't shrug off Sealyn's comforting grasp. "I stopped. You two didn't, but I did. Not that I stopped being a friend, but …my life just …stopped. And maybe that means that I did stop being a friend, oh, I don't know! How terrible am I?"

Brunere and Sealyn shared a stunned look, instantly sympathetic but unsure what had brought on this mood. "Missing your mam?" Sealyn asked hesitantly.

"Always." Erelinde smiled very weakly even as she shook her head. "But … Fili has been taking me to dinner, introducing me to his friends." She looked shyly over at Brunere. "Bofur always talks about you."

The rather plain but sweet dwarrowdam flushed slightly, pleased. "He never asks to walk out with me." She protested without heat.

Sealyn shrugged. "We've been dwarrowdams without a mountain or a real community of dwarves. I think we've gotten away from too many traditions. It used to be that WE suggested who might take us for a walk."

Brunere's blush increased, but her pretty violet yes turned thoughtful.

"So. Prince Fili …" She stressed the title that Erelinde hadn't used. Hadn't been asked to use? Something to think about. "Is being nice?"

"Very. Pushy. But nice." Erelinde shrugged off the question.

"Pushy?" Brunere sounded a bit alarmed.

"He has a way of talking me into going to dinner when I hadn't planned on it. Talked me into a fishing trip of all things. I still don't know how that happened, not really. But it was postponed for the weather at least."

As Erelinde spoke, her friends measured her voice and body language, reading that while Fili was getting his way the pretty dam wasn't too upset about that at all. This was new.

"And this makes you a bad friend?" Sealyn tried to lead the conversation back to the beginning. Yes. Once upon a time there had been four dwarrowdams that were nearly inseparable. Then different interests had taken over. At least for Calbrinia, who had become infatuated with all thing weapons and strategy. Brunere had leaned toward the healing arts while Sealyn had been drawn to gem cutting.

That had left poor Erelinde, who hadn't held much interest in any of those areas. The youngest of the female dwarves, she hadn't found her path yet. Not then.

Sealyn's mouth tightened at the memories. Everything had changed when human raiders had run through the town. They'd eventually been chased off, but not without leaving huge casualties. Like her friend's mother and younger brother.

Erelinde had never really recovered from that loss. She'd turned to textile crafting and had never looked back. Or up. Or out. It's like she'd said. She'd just stopped. Isolating herself for hours on end.

In the end she'd healed. And when the dams all spoke, she was basically the same person. Sweet natured and clever all at the same time. But if life existed outside of her bobbins and pins, it just held little interest for her.

After a time, most had decided that Erelinde was headed for craft mastery. Then possibly even the dreaded True-Mastery. Had they been wrong?

"Perhaps we are the bad friends for not being pushy enough." Brunere offered hesitantly.

Erelinde smiled gently and shook her head. "No."

"So. Do you like Prince Fili?" Sealyn asked the most obvious question. "Or do we need to do some pest control?"

Both Erelinde and Brunere giggled at that phrase that Calbrinia had come up with years ago for a particularly stubborn young dwarrow who had required the point of Calbrinia's sword to dissuade him.

"No. Definitely not." The white-blonde crafter shook her head, appalled and amused at the thought. "No."

"Good." Brunere breathed out with exaggerated relief. "He doesn't look like the type to be deterred easily."

"No." Erelinde smiled at the mental image of holding a blade against Fili. The imagined look on his face was enough to amuse her for a long time. "But he said something about kissing me. Learning how to kiss together." She blushed hotly.

Sealyn's eyes widened and Brunere bit her tongue to keep from laughing out loud.

"I turned him down. Told him in no uncertain terms that if he tried to kiss me without my permission he would not be welcome within fifty yards of me ever again."

"Well." Brunere nearly choked on the word.

Sealyn rolled her lips inward to keep from smiling at her friend's sweet fierceness. "Has he tried?"

"No." Erelinde didn't sound as happy about that as she should, considering that it had been her idea.

"So. You want to know how to get him to kiss you without looking like an idiot for changing your mind?" Brunere nodded firmly, sure she had guessed right.

Surprised, Erelinde's sky-blue eyes widened at the very thought.

"No?" Sealyn seemed surprised.

Erelinde shrugged haplessly. "I just wanted to know if I was a bad person, a bad friend. Do you think I'm someone who can hold onto a romantic relationship? Or will it all fall apart? I let you all down back then, and what if Fili is working hard to get to know me but there's no me to get to know? Am I only about yarns, pins and bobbins?"

Brunere's head dropped gracefully to the table as she moaned, drawing an alarmed look from her young friend.

Sealyn sighed and shrugged. "By the Maker you don't like things easy, do you? Erelinde, do you like spending time with Prince Fili?"

Awkwardly, the beauty nodded.

"Do you talk to him? About things other than your bobbins and crafting."

"Yes."

"Then focus on getting him to kiss you. You already have the answer to your original question. Spending time with him is the only way to find out if you want him to keep coming around. And at the same time, it's the only way to see if he likes you, the real you. Which we've missed by the way."

Erelinde suddenly looked sad and Sealyn squeezed her shoulders tighter.

"Never mind that. What does Bofur say about me?" Brunere deliberately and drastically changed the subject, not out of ego but to distract her friend. "At least you know the prince wants to kiss you. All I can tell about Bofur is he comes to the healing halls for even the slightest scratch."

"Oh, and THAT'S not telling." Sealyn rolled her eyes. She pointed at first one friend and then the other. "You. Tell Bofur you like long walks. See what he does next. You. Tell your prince …." And here her words stilled.

Brunere grinned and stuck out her tongue at both her friends. "Tell the prince that you would gladly volunteer to let him learn how to kiss, if he learns with you."

"No!" Erelinde looked shocked.

Sealyn crossed her eyes in derision. "Absolutely not. All she has to do is lean in close and breathe. Deeply."

All eyes dropped to the neckline of Erelinde's dress. It was far too modest and even breathing deeply wouldn't expose anything.

"Perhaps a new dress?" Brunere suggested.

"Perhaps she should be in her night dress and arrange for Fili to come by and then scream and have him come running to the rescue?" Sealyn decided being silly would best lighten the mood.

"Scream?" Brunere giggled. "Why? A spider on her dresser?"

"Night dress?" Protested Erelinde, more than a little shocked at the suggestion even as she realized the suggestion wasn't serious.

"Do what I'm going to do, suggest a walk." Brunere turned practical. "Bump into him, right into an empty room."

"With candle-light and wine." Sealyn added, her own eyes bright with glee.

The white-blonde dam shook her head, quickly catching on that her friends were teasing. "He already walks me to dinner every night."

"How does he get you to come up for air from your crafting?" Brunere asked gently.

"He plays his fiddle until I notice." Erelinde explained. "He's quite good."

Sealyn smiled, she'd suggested something like that to the prince when he'd come around looking for advice to catch her friend's attention. "Smart."

"You used to do that sometimes, with your wood pipe." The crafter said without any real emphasis. "Funny how he knew how to get my attention without startling me."

"Yes. Funny." Brunere speared her dark-haired friend with a pointed look.

Sealyn shot the other dam a quelling glance to keep silent. "Now. He walks you to dinner. From the crafting halls? Stairs."

Brunere's head came up. "Stairs! Stairs are perfect for a small trip, bumping into him to catch your balance."

"Holding onto him, looking up into his face."

Both dwarrowdams looked expectantly at Erelinde. The crafter shook her head mutely. "I really didn't come by to ask you about kissing." She half-whispered.

"We're friends. We don't just give advice on the asked questions, but the REAL questions as well." Brunere winked happily.

"What if he doesn't like me?"

"Then he's a fool and you don't need him." Sealyn said matter-of-factly, letting go of her friend. "And better to find out now than later."

"Oh."

Sealyn relented a bit, leaning forward. "Darling. The only way to find out if you two like each other, is to spend time getting to know one another."

"Oh." Erelinde repeated, feeling better and yet more unsure all at the same time. She hadn't actually been wondering how to get Fili to kiss her. Until now.

But now her friends had put the idea in her head. And she had a feeling it wasn't going away anytime soon.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"How does it really go, your lessons with my mother's mother?"

Kili paused, his hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. It was nice to be breathing this deeply without the rattling in his lungs from pneumonia. His chest ached, but this was from the good kind of tired and not the sick kind. Plus? No coughing.

Elladan watched his son, bemused a little. The lad was ill at ease and on edge with his temper while sitting in a comfortable room working on the easiest of lessons. But here, working on things much more difficult and far more exhausting, he appeared almost happy. Was this a Dwarven attribute, or simply particular to his own child?

"She has me thinking." Kili held his breath a moment, blowing out his cheeks before letting out the air and dropping his head.

"From the tone of your voice, you don't think much of …thinking?" Elladan queried, unsure.

Kili grimaced and shook his head. "You try to get me to pull in the Light of the Eldar, focus it in order to make me stronger and faster. I can get that. Maybe. But she …she makes me try and send pictures with my mind!"

The elf lord laughed and nodded. "Mind speaking. Very useful. Though limited for most of us to line-of-sight.

"Not the Lady." Kili said with dark humor.

"No." Elladan laughingly agreed. "Not the Lady." He then peered at his son and formed a picture in his mind of an arrow.

Kili blinked over at his father and swore under his breath. "Now you're doing it too? She can read my thoughts, I having been able to block her. And I can't take one from her yet."

Elladan let the image fade. "It's only been two weeks, son."

Making a face, Kili grimaced. "Tauriel says she's not gifted in this manner. So it's not every elf, is it?"

"No." The tall elf admitted slowly. "But not being gifted with a natural ease or ability doesn't mean it's not something you can't learn."

Kili rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Read my mind now."

"I don't think I will." Elladan said dryly. "Besides, you would have to send me the message. I am not like my mother's mother, I can't simply see into other's minds and hearts like she."

The dark-haired prince stood upright and shook out his hands, grinning. "Then I'll just tell you what I'm thinking. I'm ready to try again."

The elf father nodded, though they'd been out here far longer than Kuilaith usually tolerated their morning lessons. Perhaps he should have thought of this sooner.

Kili wrapped the thick cloth over his eyes, effectively blinding himself. He next wiped the sweat off his palms and grabbed his bow again. He picked up three arrows, holding them lightly. His teeth gleamed as he grinned with excitement, waiting.

Elladan tossed up the three balls made of rags they'd bound together with twine, each in a different direction. His elven strength gave them more than a little velocity.

Kili spun with great speed, aiming unerringly at the first target and then spun away even before the arrow struck true. He loosed the second shaft and then stilled. The dark-haired prince spun and aimed the third arrow toward the passage way, but did not let it fly.

Elladan stiffened as he noted who had arrived. "Prince Legolas."

The blond elf bowed elegantly and with great formality toward the older elf lord. "Your speed ….improves, I should guess."

Kili reluctantly let the bow, and the nocked arrow, lower toward the ground. He lessened the tension on the string, allowing it to come back to rest. Pushing up the cloth covering his eyes, he carefully eyed the pristinely dressed and graceful form of the Elven Prince.

"Prince Kuilaith."

Kili near about bit his tongue off. First. While he was getting used to the name his elvish relatives had gifted him, it was different to hear the syllables from someone else. Second. The title of prince was still hanging in the balance. Those who called him prince within Erebor did so out of love, honor and respect. Not this one. Was he being greeted, or mocked? "Prince Legolas of the Mirkwood, greetings of Erebor upon you. I hope you travelled well."

When in doubt, go formal. Kili let his face go blank even as inwardly he cheered the slightly confused look in the blond elf's eyes. If Legolas wanted to play at titles and gentle manners, Kili could play too.

"I did indeed travel well, I thank you." Legolas bowed again, as was proper.

Kili knew this would have been even better if he'd been able to say the words in Sindarin. But he didn't trust his command of the language that far yet. Better to speak in Common than make a dumb mistake and say 'cabbage' instead of 'travel'.

"Well met." Elladan stepped forward, unsure of the tension between the other two males. Though he had no doubt it stemmed from either time spent in Mirkwood prison cells, or from an interest in Tauriel. Possibly both.

Legolas looked around the area with measuring eyes.

Kili moved to put away his bow and stow his arrows, as if ignoring the presence of the blond elf warrior. It wasn't true though, he was nearly hyperaware of the other's presence. And the sight he must be making.

Here was the well dressed and immaculately groomed elven prince standing in an unused mine shaft with dirt floors and the smell of metals and minerals. And here he was, the erstwhile second heir of King Thorin II. Sweaty with an untucked shirt hanging loose from trousers that were getting too short for him. Elvish style boots that Tauriel had gifted him, that looked a bit incongruous with the dwarven styles of all his other clothing. His hair was hanging limp and damp around him and he had the feeling that the golden circlet around his forehead might be slipping.

"I was looking to visit with Tauriel. I was told her patrol was back." Legolas said in a careful voice.

Kili stilled, then flashed a grin. Somehow it soothed him the blond princling thought that Tauriel would be ….with him. "I have not seen her yet. But I'd be glad to relay a message."

Legolas stiffened a bit at the insinuation that Kuilaith had no doubt he'd be seeing Tauriel sooner rather than later. It denoted a certain closeness.

Kili's bad mood evaporated as he also realized that Legolas had yet to see the dwarven braids in the red-head's hair. And the courting clasp that he himself had gifted to her. "Would you care to join us for supper? I'm sure that Tauriel would be pleased to see you again." He offered as gracefully as he could.

Legolas blinked, then mumbled an acceptance.

Elladan knew what was going through his son's mind, but did not speak up. Indeed, it amused him a bit. And although he had nothing against Thranduil's son, it was good to see Kuilaith able to hold his own and even score some points.

Distracted as he was, Kili was careful to store his bow and arrows correctly. He thought about the time and wondered if he could convince the Lady Galadriel that he'd put in a double session with Elladan this morning and needed to rest. Working with her usually did leave him with an aching head. Although she always offered to soothe the hurt, and he always refused.

Absently he scratched his forehead and adjusted the golden circlet. It felt odd, as if shifting somehow. Warm. He blinked. Warm? But wasn't that a warning of poison? No. He was overheated from his sweaty work-out, that was all.

He turned back to the two elves who were quietly discussing something about trees. What was it about that race and trees? Kili felt a lock of his hair fall into his face, wet with perspiration. Groaning he reached up and tucked his damp hair behind his ears. So much for his braids. Again. His fingers brushed the warm metal of the diadem his father had given him.

Warm.

But there couldn't be poison. They weren't eating anything. No. The circlet was to warn of 'danger'. There were more dangers than simply poison. His dark eyes narrowed on a certain blond elf prince. Maybe that's where the danger lay.

A quiet hissing grew, one that Kili hadn't even been aware of hearing. Then suddenly it turned into a rumble. A spout of dirt blasted into the air as the dwarven prince watched in surprise.

The large worm was like something horrible given life right in front of him. Kili's mind registered that this was a small creature, perhaps twice his own size, rather than the giants that the Goblins had used in the last battle. The Earth Mover, not a creature native to this area, did not appear to have eyes that Kili could see. But it seemed to sense his presence, roaring up between he and the two elves, leaving little space for him to maneuver.

"KUILAITH!" Elladan shouted even as Kili spun backwards, grabbing his bow and the arrows he'd just stowed. It took him the matter of a mere moments to restring the bow, he could do it blindfolded. He was instantly moving again, even within the limited space of the mine.

"Stay back!" Kili shouted even as the Earth Mover fell before him, slapping the ground and then quickly tunneling beneath.

Kili and his father stared at each other even as Legolas peppered the hole the beast had just used with arrows. Though it was probably too late, so fast did the creature burrow.

The young prince ran for the entrance, and the two elves when he felt and heard the creature moving up beneath his feet. Swiftly he leaped before the Mover could breach the surface of the mine floor. He caught one of the torch brackets on the side of a beam support and swung his weight around, able to land on rock rather than earth.

More arrows decorated the worm, both from he and Legolas. Two flashing silver daggers flew from Elladan's hands to bury themselves in the toughened skin of the Earth Mover.

The creature made a piteous sound before collapsing.

And just like that, it was over. All three males began breathing again, their eyes wide.

Kili reached up and touched the golden circlet, cursing swiftly. It was still hotter than his body temperature could account for. "It's not over!" He shouted, backing up further onto the solid rocks.

Legolas and Elladan scanned the area, as if they could see beneath the ground. The Mirkwood prince leaped away and onto rocks on the other side of the mine. Elladan was more in the center of the area, having hurried toward his son and danger when the Earth Mover had first appeared.

Kili's mind stalled out as he watched the elf lord move quickly toward him. But not fast enough. It's hard to run when the ground beneath your feet suddenly disappears.

Even before he jumped, Kili knew where to aim his body. He tackled his father in mid-fall. This wasn't another creature, or even an attack. The Earth Mover's tunnels had been too near the surface and were collapsing. Simple. Possibly deadly, but simple.

The two fell together under the momentum of Kili's leap, hitting the side of the hole as the tunnel-weakened earth crumbled around them, dropping them into a disused crevice hidden beneath.

With the son propelling the fall, it was the father whose head hit the stone first with a sickeningly wet thud and going limp.

Blind in the darkness of the collapsed crevice, Kili desperately touched his father's form and nearly panicked when the elf didn't move. Desperately he found the nose and mouth, heedless to the scent of blood and feeling instead for breathing. It was there.

Kili looked up, seeing nothing in the dimness, hearing nothing over the pounding of his own heart. He knew that Legolas wouldn't let them stay down here, would help or get help. But he knew that only with the rational part of his mind.

Without thought, without consideration, Kili used the lessons that Elladan and Elrohir had been trying to teach him. He pulled the energy within him that they called the Eldar Light. He didn't do it well, but he was desperate. He sucked it all in tightly within his mind and then made a message, forming it and focusing on it like the Lady had said. Inside his head he pictured the 'wall' that Galadriel had told him he held so tightly and he …let it go. He combined both lessons and instead of sending a thought, he mentally roared it out to anyone and everyone who could hear it. Undirected and completely raw.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Glorfindel was speaking with Dwalin and Tauriel while Thorin pored over maps of the area with Balin and Gloin.

The red-haired she-elf suddenly paled and dropped to her knees, clutching her head.

The dwarves stared as Glorfindel made a face of abject pain, shaking his head as he straightened. His hand fell first to the hilt of his sword as he looked around a bit wild-eyed.

"What?" Dwalin asked as the golden-haired elf warrior ignored him and threw open the door to the king's private study.

"Kili." Tauriel managed the name in a hoarse whisper, climbing a bit unsteadily to her feet. "He's in trouble."

Thorin's confused blue eyes turned hard as steel as he stared at the two elves. "Where? How? WHAT?"

Tauriel licked her lips, and shook her head, looking more than a little desperate. "I don't know where."

"She does." Glorfindel pointed as they saw Lady Galadriel moving with a speed none could really quite believe. A moment or two later Elrohir and Lord Celeborn entered the hallway from different points, but both heading in the same direction.

Glorfindel and the dwarves followed swiftly. "Where?" The golden-haired hero of old called out.

Elrohir's voice sounded tight. "I'm following them!"

In the privacy of his room, Saruman looked up. He'd felt the call for help right down to his marrow. He did not know the mind attached, but could guess as he was well aware of what the Lady Galadriel was trying to teach young Kuilaith.

The cry was a wound within the mind. A call for help. And an opening. Saruman pushed past the lad's defenses without him noticing, sliding through the little prince's mind. Far more adapt at mind speaking than most elves, save possibly Celeborn and his wife, the wizard could see what the lad saw. Sense what he sensed. Know what he knew.

Settling back into his chair, Saruman began wondering if there was a way to use this unexpected gift.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	35. In which Tauriel makes up her mind

"No, no, no, no …" Kili blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision and push aside the pain swamping him. His head felt like it was going to explode. His emotions roiled as he frantically felt for any sign of life from the father he was just starting to get to know. His nose recognized the smell of what his pain-dulled mind was trying to tell him.

His hands were already stinging slightly as he ran them over the too-still form of his sire. The elf shifted slightly, bringing both relief and new worries. The movement hadn't been purposeful. Elladan was alive, but not conscious. And there was the sticky feel of blood on the back of his head. The dark-haired prince disregarded the need to keep the neck still and lifted his father's head out of the water entirely, almost cradling him as he held him fast.

"Father?" Kili's tone was drenched with fear and hope. "Adad? Da? Wake up. Don't leave me, I just found you. Da? Please." His words were a whispered litany he was unaware of even as his hands continued to make a rough catalogue of possible injuries. He couldn't reach the legs from where he was, but wouldn't let go of his father such was the need to keep his head above water.

"I'm coming down!"

Kili's head jerked upwards suddenly as he shouted his response. "No!" Strands of wet hair slapped against his cheeks with little discomfort, which was reassuring actually. So was the fact that his diadem was no longer warning him of danger. He swallowed hard, his mind racing despite the massive headache. "We have to come up. Stay there!"

"You shouldn't move him if he's unconscious. I'll come down to assist!"

Legolas. Memory snapped ferociously back into place as Kili grimaced, gritting his teeth. "Acid water down here. Not safe. Have to get him out." The words left him even as he made the judgement call. All the clues settled into a grim picture.

His hands were stinging, not from the fall, but the due to the water in this natural crevice. The scent of sulfuric acid wasn't strong and his nose wasn't burning, which was the good news even as he struggled to recall everything Bofur had tried to teach him in the past few days about reopening the mines of Erebor. But this water surrounding them wasn't neutral, though how acidic it was he wasn't quite sure.

Mines had to be worked. Maintained. Especially when you mine deeper than the water table, which Dwarves did regularly. It meant pumps to rid the area of water lest the mines flooded. Dwarves were Arda's leading masters of pumping equipment and water management.

Dragons weren't.

Smaug's tenure as Erebor's sole resident had left the mines with huge problems. Not every tunnel had flooded, but enough. And where there is water, air and metal there are chemical reactions. Especially when both gold and silver are rich in sulfide minerals. Come to think of it, did sulfuric acid even bother dragons? Or had it just added a bit of flavor to Smaug's drinking water? The idle thought slipped away from him as Kili ripped off his shirt to press to the back of Elladan's head.

The princling knew the greedy reputation that his race had among all the residents of Arda. But despite this low regard of his people, the dwarves weren't so greedy that they stripped the earth of her treasures and left poisons lying around to harm people, animals, and nature itself. They had means to protect the world around them, and this they did, routinely treating the waste waters to a neutral state and protecting their homes.

When they'd lived here.

But Smaug had forced them to leave, fleeing into exile. The pumps stopped pumping. The waters stopped being treated. Everything fell into complete disrepair.

This was one of the major obstacles to getting the mines back working properly. You couldn't just pick up a sharp tool and begin pulling precious metals out of the earth. Not only wasn't it right, it simply wasn't safe.

Bells began ringing in the distance, a call for assistance with an emergency. Every dwarrow would immediately respond.

Even as his mind roamed over the reason the acidic water was in this crevice, Kili was working to feel his father's neck to assure himself the elf could be moved without further damage. In the dark and grim atmosphere, it was hard to tell. He'd just have to do the best he could. It was better than leaving his da half immersed in this acid water whose potency he could not possibly gauge accurately at the moment. His father had a head wound. It would not be good to give the water any more access to things best left on the inside of the body.

"Kuilaith!"

The shouted word that didn't come from the Mirkwood prince was his only warning. Suddenly he wasn't alone. And he didn't have to look to know who had leapt down beside him. "Uncle. It's not safe down here."

Elrohir grunted and started running his own hands over his twin brother's body. Elladan groaned, making his son's heart speed up a bit more. "So Legolas warned us."

"We need to get him out of the water, it's acidic." Kili's voice sounded hoarse with anxiety and worry.

Elrohir peered upwards toward the collapsed edges of the hole above them. Kili's dark eyes followed, uneasy as he could see that the ledge of earth over them did not look stable. He looked back at his father's twin and saw the preoccupied expression on his face that he took to mean that the elves were all speaking to each other silently.

"You heard me." Kili whispered.

Elrohir shifted in the dimness, wrapping one arm around his nephew to help support Elladan's head, and Kili. "Every elf for miles around heard you." Came the rather dry response.

Shouts and calls came from above them along with the sounds of shuffling feet. More help had arrived.

"No one answered back." Kili sounded miffed even to his own ears, almost petulant. He changed his tone. "Then again, I haven't been able to 'hear' anyone other than the Lady yet anyway."

Elrohir smiled in the darkness and tightened his arm around his nephew. "You weren't listening then." He paused for a small moment, as if considering his words. "Headache?"

Kili nodded grimly, though he knew that his uncle's question wasn't all he wanted to ask. "Yes. Now, what aren't you saying?"

Elrohir shrugged very lightly. "Knocked most of us over with your shout for help. Think getting struck by a dwarven war hammer when we're used to those tiny mallets you showed me when we were down here making that necklace for Tauriel."

The mental image made Kili grin even as he groaned in embarrassment. "So. Did you fall over?"

"Stumbled." Elrohir admitted ruefully. "Had to brace myself against the wall in the hallway."

Kili's face paled and he sucked in a harsh breath.

"It wasn't that bad, I exaggerate a bit." His uncle quickly tried to reassure him.

"What if da heard me?" Kili sounded horrified at the thought.

Elrohir's mind tripped over the use of the word 'da', but chose not to bring it up. It was a term in the Common language, not distinctly elven, dwarven or human. It was diminutive and nearly slang. A term of familiarity …and affection. He only wished his brother was awake to have heard it. Which brought him back to Kili's concern. Had Elladan heard his son's mental shout? Would it have hurt him?

"I doubt it." Elrohir supplied from a place of encouragement rather than knowledge. "Even if he did, you did what you had to do."

"Legolas was still up there, he could have fetched help." Kili's voice sounded so small, there was no echo within the smallish crevice.

"Not as quickly, he is not familiar to Erebor."

Shouts came closer and within moments ropes and a tarp were lowered down to them. Along with a person. Another tall elf, this one with long silver hair.

Kili's mind went blank as he recognized Lord Celeborn. "Tauriel? Glorfindel?"

"Atop." The Lothlorien Lord said quickly, his eyes not bothered by the dim lighting as he inspected everyone for visible injuries. "They are helping the dwarrow."

Elrohir and Celeborn spread out the tarp, unmindful of the stinging water. There wasn't enough space to find anywhere dry. Without fanfare they moved toward Kili and Elladan.

With remarkable reluctance, the young prince let them take his father from him. The tall elf moaned and tried to speak, coming back around. Elrohir murmured something in elven and Kili watched as his father relaxed and allowed them to put him on the tarp. The order shouted out had the ropes tightening, pulling the injured elf upwards.

Kili stood, feeling shaky. Everything stung, and everything ached, but mostly on the inside. "What did you say to him?"

It was Lord Celeborn who answered, not Elrohir. "Your father asked about you and if you were uninjured."

It suddenly as a little more difficult to catch his breath. "It was my fault." He admitted. "I tried to get him clear of the collapse, but it was too big and we both fell."

Celeborn looked down at the child of his daughter's son, his face unreadable even with the increased lighting from lanterns filling the area above them. "How is that your fault? Prince Legolas explained what happened."

Miserable, Kili managed a shrug. "I'm not exactly light."

The leader from Lothlorien blinked slowly, considering. Did the young dwarf think his added weight had caused a bigger collapse of earth? Or that his weight on top of Elladan had caused more of an impact when they'd hit the bottom of the crevice?

Lord Celeborn cast his eyes around the small crevice. The acidic water lapping close to the tops of his boots, though thankfully not strong enough to eat through the leather. It could have been far worse according to the dwarrow mining engineers above them. He considered the sight he'd seen when he'd dropped down here, and then he spoke. "You being here kept my daughter's son from drowning, or his head from soaking in too much acid into his wounds. If you are looking for absolution, there is none here to be found. Only thankfulness."

Kili felt the impact of those words, even as they were spoken without emotion and quite dryly. He glanced at his elvish uncle, who couldn't quite hide his smile.

More ropes fell down around them, this time without tarps.

"Seems it is our turn now." Lord Celeborn said smoothly. "Kuilaith first, he has been down here the longest and needs to wash this cursed acid off his skin as soon as possible."

Kili wanted to argue the point, but wisely kept his mouth shut and grabbed the ropes.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel felt nauseated and mind sore, emotionally raw. It had been difficult enough when Kili's roar for help had swamped her unprepared mind, leaving her shaking and with a terrible headache. But the thought of Kili in danger was enough to pull pain from every corner of her being.

If she'd had any questions about being in love, they were fully answered now. Her distress over the thought of losing her dark-eyed love was leaving her feeling weak. Her hand wrapped around the stone he'd gifted to her, now hanging from a golden chain from around her neck. It was not glowing.

Did that mean no danger to her? Or that the danger to him was gone? She simply did not know about these things.

The mind-speak, the sensing-stone, these were powers of the High Elves. If she had stayed with her distant kin once her parents had been killed, she would have known none of these things. She was Silvan. The only reason she had been taught how to mind-speak was to be able to fight more effectively as a Captain of the King's Guard.

The High Elves within the Mirkwood might share thoughts and words this way, but not with her. She was a well tolerated and generally liked captain, but still …different. Maybe that had been on her part as well as theirs. Had she separated herself as a mechanism of defense in case she wasn't accepted? Possible.

As unused to mind-speaking as she was, the shout reaching deep into the core of her brain had met with little defense, dropping her to her knees.

"Tauriel. Are you alright?" The voice was cautious, but not tentative. Also very familiar.

Her head turned slowly until her green eyes met the guarded gaze of King Thranduil's son. "My prince."

Hesitation. She could see his eyes flick to the jeweled clasp holding onto clearly dwarven braids within her hair. She saw the near infinitesimal widening of his gaze and the surprise it hinted at. The blond elf warrior swallowed, letting his eyes move back to meet her own before he spoke. "You once called me Legolas."

She didn't have an answer to that, so she did not bother to offer one. Tauriel dipped her head respectfully, not wanting to tell him about how his father had warned her away from him. Not that it would have mattered. She loved Legolas, always had. But she knew now that she was not IN love with the elvish prince.

When you have an example of what is real, all else fades a bit. Her hand tightened on the stone in her hand, the gold wire pressing against her palm like a comforting touch. "Legolas."

He nodded, his mouth tightening slightly. He'd gotten her to say his name, but it wasn't what he'd hoped for obviously. His eyes slid over to the side once more, unerringly finding the flagrant braid gracing her hair. Legolas wet his lips slightly and asked the obvious. "That has meaning?"

Tauriel looked around, seeing the make-shift pulleys that the dwarves had hastily built start to pull up the injured Elladan. She'd have jumped down there in a heartbeat if Elrohir had not forbidden the move.

He was right. The space was too small and possibly unstable. Yet. Lord Celeborn had followed but a few minutes later. Why could it have not been she to assist?

"Tauriel?"

It was with some shock and not a little chagrin that the red-head realized she'd been ignoring her friend and former prince. "I'm sorry." She said, her lips and throat dry, her voice sounding stronger than she felt. Everywhere she could feel the eyes of the dwarrow watching her, or was that only in her imagination?

Tauriel turned and caught that dwarrowdam looking in her direction, though the female glanced away quickly when spotted. She had been introduced at dinner not that long ago. Brunere Grimbasher, someone that Bofur had seemed eager to impress, much to Kili's amusement.

Kili.

Her breath caught as the ropes began to strain, though she knew the first one to be retrieved would be Elladan. And as she watched the tarp rise as the dwarrows worked the pulley system, she saw she was right.

Nuluin and Oin moved forward as the dwarrow swung the tarp closer to solid ground. Rock really. Setting the wounded elf down gently as the healers went to work on him.

Oin scowled. "We need to wash this acid off of him immediately. It's not concentrated, but …"

"Concur." Nuluin rose and gestured toward a group of dwarrow with a stretcher. "Healing hall or baths first?" He asked the dwarvish healer with respect, deferring the other male's vaster knowledge of mines and their dangers.

Elladan began blinking and Oin put his hand gently over the elf's eyes. "No. Water!"

Nuluin was ahead of him and was ready with a clean, wet cloth. He cleaned Elladan's eyelids and face quickly. Murmuring in Sindarin for the warrior to keep his eyes closed for the moment.

Oin nodded. "He's awakening? Bath first then. We can tend the head wound there. Nothing seems life threatening at the moment."

Tauriel watched as they left, her heart thumping quickly in her chest. They wouldn't be leaving if they thought Kili seriously injured. Her green eyes were distressed as she watched Oin stop and give instructions to Brunere.

"He will be fine."

Startled, Tauriel turned back to see Legolas, who was still watching her. Her eyes dropped under his scrutiny. Not out of embarrassment over his regard, or even being caught worrying. Habit. Habit carried over from Thranduil's court, and not any wish by Legolas himself. Steeling herself with that thought, she raised her eyes to meet his.

The blond prince smiled at her, seemingly pleased. "You have been missed."

"It is …very different here." Tauriel allowed, bowing her head slightly in deference. Not that she missed the Mirkwood much. Truthfully it hadn't been that long, and there was so much to do here and so much to learn. She had even made some friends here. Just last week Ori had been regaling her with stories of Durin VII while she'd practiced writing some basic runes, for no other reason than just to have friends share some time together. It had been a pleasantly quiet evening. Dori had even joined them, working on some complicated weaving patterns. The gray-bearded dwarf hadn't asked about her presence, nor seemed to object.

Legolas' smile faded until he looked his usual self, his eyes weighing her reactions as she did the same to him. He then looked around him, below him, and then overhead.

She did not miss his unspoken meaning. She was an elf. Used to the night skies. Underground. Nor could she pretend otherwise. "My guest room has an outdoor balcony. A gift from the king I am thinking."

Legolas eyed her carefully, as if unsure. "And that is enough?"

Tauriel shrugged, then turned her attention back to the rescue efforts. The next person was being pulled up. "I am satisfied here." She said almost absently, moving toward the rescuers. The red-head could feel Legolas move up beside her even as she saw Kili being raised from the crevice below.

Her breath caught.

He was dirty and messy, his shirt was missing and he was bare chested. His skin looked reddened in places in a way that made her breath catch in concern. But he was grinning at her, his hands wrapped around the rope pulling him up which trailed down his body and ended in a loop through which he had one of his boots.

She smiled. She couldn't help it. "You are unhurt?"

Kili started leaning toward her even as the rescuers pulled the ropes in that direction. He fairly leaped away from the supporting rope in order to land in front of her.

Tauriel leaned in closed, bending some as their heights were quite different. Her forehead touched his even as his hands rose to frame her face.

Only he got stopped.

Both turned to stare at Legolas who was flushed slightly, even as he let go of the hand he'd stopped from touching her. "Acid water." He said plainly.

Kili blushed this time, though he did step back as he grimaced. "Right, right."

Tauriel felt the keen sense of disappointment, and the need to feel Kili's touch. She looked away only to find pretty violet eyes trained upon her. The dwarrowdam smiled hesitantly before looking away again.

Boots thundered down the hallway and everyone turned, seeing the crown prince rush forward. The blond's eyes rounded as he saw Kili's state. "Heard the damned bells. The sequence was for the lower mine shafts! And they signaled gas in the mine!"

Kili started to laugh, but then groaned as he felt something ache.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Brunere carried out the ruined clothing from the room within the healing hall. Every eye swung toward her and she dropped her gaze for a second. She wasn't used to being stared at by the King, all his advisors, and the heir to the throne. Awkwardly she offered a curtsy.

"He is fine?" Thorin asked roughly.

Brunere nodded and pointed at the door behind her with her chin, since her hands were full. "He's clean and Oin is in there now. Some cuts and scrapes, but nothing else."

Bombur nudged his brother, who scowled unhappily.

Brunere blinked a bit. Why did Bofur look like he'd swallowed a porcupine?

"Never mind him, lass." Gloin laughed. "He's just miffed that it was Kili you got to bathe, and not him."

The young dwarrowdam laughed at the jibe and shook her head. "Just tending his ills."

Bifur mumbled something and made a few hand signs. The elves didn't react. All of the dwarves exploded into laughter while Brunere blushed beet red and made a face at the salt-and-pepper bearded dwarf. Bofur even laughed.

Legolas looked around, noting the easy way that the elves were watching and how they didn't seem put out by being left out of the joke. It felt odd, seeing them comfortable among the dwarrows. Then Gloin's word caught up to him. "Lass?" His eyes swung toward the dwarrowdam.

She was a bit plain looking in the face, and with not much beard. Her chin was smooth she seemed to have some pretty curls along the side of her face. Legolas blushed a bit. He'd just thought her a young lad, not a female. It didn't help that she was wearing the same kind of clothing as all the other dwarves.

More laughter, this time at the Mirkwood prince's expense. It didn't help that Lord Celeborn and his wife were even smiling at him. "I didn't realize." He offered hesitantly.

"Yah, well, yer an idiot." Gloin muttered out loud. Obviously still miffed over the blond's words about the portraits he'd had of his wife and son.

"Elladan is resting with a slight concussion and nothing more. Kili has a few bruises. No one was badly burned and we now know that our strange holes were being made by these Earth Movers. Probably babies." Thorin clasped his hands behind his back, nodding thoughtfully.

"They need to be hunted down." Brorgic Grimbasher avowed, leaning heavily on a crutch due to his still healing thigh wound the goblins had gifted him. "Plain menaces to our mines. Undercutting shafts and giving acid waters places to go when they shouldn't. Aren't even native to this area."

"Agreed." Bofur said firmly, shuddering at the thoughts of what these nascent Earth Movers could accomplish as they grew even bigger. Even the idea of the chaos they could make out of Erebor's mines as enough to make him feel sick on his stomach.

"Adad, please. Sit. Your leg, you shouldn't be on it yet." Brunere urged her father toward a seat but the grumpy dwarrow looked like he might rebel.

Galadriel looked at the young dwarrowdam with a gentle smile. "Kuilaith has a headache?"

Brunere stopped, a bit in awe to be addressed by someone so beautiful, tall and quite dangerous. Her words had been a question, but it sounded like she had no doubt as to her conclusion. She bobbed her head. "Yes. We've given him something to ease the pain, but …"

"Indeed." The golden-haired elf moved toward the door to the room where Kili was being tended.

Brunere's eyes widened in distress, she shot a frantic look at her father first and then the King Under the Mountain. "Uhm, he's not dressed yet."

Galadriel didn't even pause as she opened the door and closed it behind her. Two seconds later there was a bit of a rumbling noise of protest. Then silence.

Lord Celeborn smiled and shook his head mildly.

It was Glorfindel who gave a nod to the dwarrowdam as he spoke. "She is the mother of his father's mother. Have no worries. Perhaps the Lady should braid something into her hair so that she will be known as family?" He teased, meaning it as a joke.

Brunere blinked rapidly, quite taken aback. "There is no braid for a great-grandmother." She said, sounding rather amused as she spoke.

"What does your new braid mean, Tauriel? How does it mark you, among these Dwarves?" Legolas spoke up for the first time since they'd all arrived from the healing halls. His voice sounded like the question was of no import, but very few were fooled.

Suddenly the teasing mood evaporated completely away.

Unfortunately Brunere had no clue who he was other than an important visitor. "It marks her as nashatal." Then the dwarrowdam's eyes widened with trepidation as all the collected dwarrow and elves turned varying degrees of glares upon her. "I …think I should dismiss myself." She stuttered lightly, wondering what she'd done wrong.

"No." Tauriel spoke up quietly. "It is no secret." She touched the braid on the side of her head.

Fili shook his head, his own braids moving with his motion. He stared at the Mirkwood prince steadily as he spoke. "She has declared that she is seeking courtship. Kili has declared himself to be courting her. She has accepted." He rather grinned at the words, no signs of any hesitations or embarrassment. In fact, he rather looked like he enjoyed poking at the blond elven prince. Truthfully, it was more a baring of teeth than an actual smile of any kind.

Legolas looked so pale that he might be in need of the healing halls themselves. He stared at the braid with loathing, and something akin to jealousy. "And if someone else were to …declare himself interested in courting her?"

Fili frowned. He hadn't expected that question. He looked uncertainly over at his uncle as if for advice.

Balin stirred and Thorin actually frowned, although it was the white-haired royal counselor that spoke up first. "She is nashatal. Any can present her with a sigil, or a sign that he has interest. She can either accept or turn him away." His voice sounded hesitant at the end.

Tauriel held her breath, confused. This couldn't be what it sounded like?

"But surely, turning someone away without due consideration would be considered a rudeness?" Legolas' words halted them all.

Celeborn and Glorfindel shared a quick look, and possibly a few words within the privacy of their own minds. Yet, whatever their thoughts, they did not speak up.

Thorin scowled at the prince who had once been his captor. Still a youth despite the number of years he'd seen thus far. Older the elf might be, but the dwarvish king couldn't help but see him as someone who was still young. And whose father was an ally. A very TENTATIVE ally.

Balin scratched his beard and tried to appear at ease. He was only partly successful. "We don't tell our females, or even those of any race, who they can or cannot choose to allow to court them. Not even to avoid appearing …rude."

"Of course not." The tone was bland. "I merely want to know the meaning behind the braid my friend wears, and how it works."

"You've known your friend for several hundred years." Thorin pointed out in a rumbling growl of displeasure.

Legolas held out his hands, admitting the obvious.

Fili cleared his throat before he spoke up this time. "You could have shown interest at any time in those few hundred years."

"Perhaps losing something shows a person just how deep their feelings go." Legolas turned his eyes solely upon Tauriel.

The she-elf held still, feeling like she was caught in a trap. She shook her head. "Your father …."

"Does not concern me." Legolas said firmly, his eyes fairly blazing with the seriousness of his thoughts. "Recent events have shown me that I need to make my own way, make my own choices, live my own life."

Green eyes blinked as she broke away, turning to stare at the door beyond which was a certain dark-haired mixed-blood prince. "Your timing is …."

"Do not turn away before you even hear me out." Legolas pressed further.

Fili turned wild eyes onto his uncle, trying to will him into stopping whatever was going on.

Thorin frowned sharply. What Balin had said was true. Dwarves did NOT pressure females into courtship …or out of it. It was the choice of the dam. Or elf, in this case. He snuck a glance at Glorfindel, who was staring at the ceiling and trying hard not to look at anyone. "Coward." The king growled.

Glorfindel blew out a soft whistle. And didn't meet his eyes.

"All I ask, is that you listen." Legolas looked around the gathering of elves and dwarves. "Hear me, see me." It was as close to a plea as he could get without shattering his pride completely.

 _I don't want to!_ Tauriel wanted to shout. Things had been going so well lately. Yet, she could recall all the years of friendship. The jokes shared. The respect, given and earned. The closeness in and out of battle. The …yes, the hopeless thought of him loving her. Yes. It had been there, in the back of her dreams. Years ago. Was it still?

"You hesitate." The blond sounded hopeful as he watched her. "This doesn't mean you deny anyone else, it just means …I think it just means that you allow me a chance to speak with you."

Brunere watched, her eyes moving from person to person throughout the room.

"I will not wear your sigil." Tauriel finally said. "I will not do that to him."

Legolas stopped breathing for a moment, then stepped closer to her. Bifur straightened, his hand going to the hilt of his blade. Bofur put his hand onto his cousin's shoulder, stilling him. Urging him to wait.

"Talk to him." Thorin spoke up finally.

Fili's blue eyes narrowed immediately into fury, he only barely held his temper back as he waited. What was his uncle up to? Hadn't he agreed to allow Kili and Tauriel to court? Was he going to try and sabotage it now?

"If you don't want his bead or sigil, don't take it." The King sighed unhappily. "But several hundred years of friendship is not something to toss away lightly. Talk to him. Be sure." He caught Tauriel's gaze with his own sapphire blue eyes. "Be completely sure."

Fili groaned, but did not interrupt.

The red-head stared at the king, understanding his concerns. He wasn't forbidding Kili to her, he just wanted to make sure of her heart. She nodded in a jerky motion, then shook her head. "Not tonight."

"Tomorrow then." Legolas offered, relieved beyond all measure. He bowed to her. He nodded his head to King Thorin and he turned and made his exit with a grace that put Fili's teeth on edge.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I'd like my pants, please." Kili flushed, though he refused to hide himself. Nudity really wasn't a taboo among the dwarves, but all of a sudden he realized he had no idea how elves saw such displays. Not something he wanted to ask tonight. Or ask of her. His hand tightened on the small towel he'd been using to dry himself off with when she'd come into the room.

Lady Galadriel circled him slowly, her eyes missing nothing as she checked out his condition.

Raising an eyebrow, and not feeling well at all, Kili impetuously dropped the towel and stared at her. Daring her to comment.

"Some burns, nothing major. A few scrapes and bruises. I don't like the one on the left side of your ribs."

Kili scowled. Of course she wasn't embarrassed. He reached for his trousers, a clean pair that someone had fetched for him earlier while Oin had been making sure the acidic water had done no real damage.

"Your head hurts."

"Everything hurts." He muttered darkly, stuffing first one foot and then the other into his pants and then struggling to pull them up. They were a bit small. Regular meals could do that.

"You're growing taller." The Lady commented. "Filling out some more."

"Or just eating too much." Kili groused, irritable and having trouble focusing around the pounding in his skull.

Galadriel pointed to his ankles, where the pants weren't hitting like they should. They really were a bit short. "Do you trust me?"

A loaded question. Kili stopped in mid-reach for a clean shirt. He turned and stared at the Lady of Light. The Witch. An elf older than he could manage to wrap his aching mind around. "You're my great …I mean, my father's mother's mother."

"Yes." The lady smiled almost sadly at him. "But history often shows us that family ties do not always engender trust. So I ask you, in your heart, do you trust me?"

Kili stared at her, unsure and uneasy. Hurting, he couldn't seem to focus properly and didn't know what she meant. So he said that.

Galadriel nodded as if pleased with him, which made no sense. "Trust comes at many levels, and in many forms. Who do you trust at your back, armed?"

Kili eyed her carefully and shrugged, though he still wasn't reaching for his shirt. "Fili. Thorin. Dwalin, Balin, the whole Company. Tauriel." He paused, then added two names. "Elladan and Elrohir."

The golden lady moved up next to him in such a way that he never saw her move. One blink and she was a few steps away, another blink of his eyes and she was sitting next to him. He started to step back. She raised her hand an put it over a reddened area of skin along one shoulder.

Immediate relief. Not that the burn had been hurting much, not with the ointment that Oin had put on it. Still, that over tight feeling that damaged skin had, was gone. Kili looked into her eyes, finding only acceptance and peace. It scared him. She scared him. "What do you want?"

"To do this for you." Galadriel moved her hand to another spot, this one a scrape that had bled. The acidic water had not done him any favors with an open wound, no matter how minor. A touch of her hand and the stinging ache disappeared.

The scrape remained, he could see it with his eyes, but his skin felt refreshed and whole. He looked back up into her gaze. "Alright." He agreed.

"Here." She touched a single fingertip to his forehead. "I would like to do that for you …here."

Kili blinked. They weren't talking simple skin scrapes or burns, he knew that much at least. "You're asking my permission, and my trust. But for a week now you've been pushing in and out of my head with thoughts and pictures and trying to teach me …."

"This will be different." Her words weren't raised, but they stilled him regardless. "You're hurting."

The dark-haired young prince eyed this odd female, swallowing around his sudden onset of nerves. "You're not using your mind-talk. You're talking, speaking. With your mouth." She hadn't been doing that with him for the past week, not while she'd been attempting to instruct him.

"It would hurt you right now." She said simply.

Dark eyes closed for a long moment as Kili drew in a deep breath. "Did I break something? Up there?"

"No." There was a little amusement in that answer. Kili peeked open one eye to look at her. She smiled calmly at him. "No." The Lady repeated.

"Then what's wrong? You always go in my head. Every day. Why is this different?" Why did she need him to trust her this time?

"Kuilaith." The Lady of Light drew in a deep breath, studying his face. "My heart has few barriers to you, but you have reservations to me. To your father. To any elf."

He licked his lips, wondering if he should apologize.

"No. Apologies aren't necessary."

Dark chocolate eyes narrowed on her suspiciously.

"No. I'm not taking your thoughts, or reading them." Galadriel answered. "Kuilaith. You're sending them out. Every thought you have."

Sudden alarm raced through him, his eyes so wide they seemed to take up his entire face. He swallowed hard, wondering what embarrassing thoughts he'd had ever since he'd thrown out that emergency call for assistance. Feeling utterly exposed he managed to grab his shirt and draw it on over his bare chest. Not that it did any good, not really.

"I have been blocking your thoughts from the others." Galadriel assured him with a soft look, and a softer touch as she brushed a lock of hair out of his face. "But if you want everyone to know that you wonder what color underthings a certain red-head …"

Kili hissed sharply and shaking his head vehemently, which only swamped his poor senses with more pain as his headache increased. He recalled the stray thought he'd had while undressing for bathing.

"No one has heard these thoughts." His father's mother's mother assured him quietly. "But I need to step fully into your mind to help you ease your mental walls back into place. Also to heal some of this pain you're radiating."

Kili nodded quickly, wanting it over. Then he paused as a thought occurred to him. And sense he was sending out every thought he had, she caught it immediately.

"Yes. There's more and I'm not telling you everything. This is why I need your trust."

The dark-haired prince stared at her a moment, weighing his options and finding he had nothing. He looked at her and simply thought his assent to her.

Clearly pleased, Galadriel moved her hands to either side of his head and suddenly he wasn't alone in his own skin. It was weird. Beyond anything he'd ever had imagined. It was like being two people.

He knew what she meant by trust now. This wasn't reading his thoughts, this was BEING him. She could see pieces of his past, feel his feelings and know his every passing insecurity or bold thought.

Kili moaned, but didn't fight her as she soothed his mind and allowed the pain to flow away like a wave upon the sand. Sand. Land. Without effort or will he was no longer where he'd been before. Suddenly he knew what it felt to travel by ship from far, far away. He could hear starsong and know the words. He saw trees that glowed with light and peace. Two of them, shining in the darkness, for all else was lit by the stars alone. They weren't beautiful, they were beauty given form and life.

That light left as suddenly as it had appeared and Kili made a small sound of grief and protest before he stopped cold. Cold. Freezing, bitter cold the likes of which he'd never known existed. Anguish filled him as the clinging mists surrounded his sight from which no gleam of star nor heaven's light could pierce.

And then he was himself, alone. Small. Shaking. Insignificant and utterly meaningless in a world so much bigger than he'd ….

Warmth filled him, surrounded him. Kili blinked several times as his vision returned. Hair. He was surrounded by waves of hair. Golden and dark brunet. Arms held him, wrapping him in warmth and comfort. And not just from the outside.

"I'm so sorry, child." Galadriel's voice sounded …sad, remorseful.

Kili stirred at last and she reluctantly let him go, though he didn't move far. Sitting up, he stared at her in sheer wonder, and not a little fear. "What was that?"

The Lady of Light seemed dimmer than before. Kili licked his lips and shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. "What did you do?"

Galadriel held out her hand to him and without thought, he reached for her. Their fingers entwined as she gave him a small smile. "When you shouted for help, you dropped every barrier and wall in your mind. You got your message out, but you left yourself wide open."

"Open to what?" Kili asked, then sucked in a wild breath that almost choked him. "Mordor." He whispered.

The Lady ran her thumb over the back of his knuckles and he wondered what she thought of the work calluses she must feel on his hand. She didn't answer, nor did she seem to 'hear' his idle thought. "You closed my mind down. Protected me."

Galadriel nodded smoothly as she peered at him. "I needed your trust, as I could not afford to fight you. I would be too deep and I needed your help. Fighting against my intrusion would have hurt you further and possibly caused serious injury deep within your mind."

Kili blinked rapidly. "Uhm. That's the kind of thing I probably needed to know."

The Lady shook her head, although she did seem sympathetic. "No. You would have been far more tense and anxious. More likely to push against me or fight back out of instinct."

"So. I'm safe now?"

Galadriel laughed lightly, some of her light seeming to grow stronger about her. "As safe as you were before."

"So, not very."

The Lady shook her head. "But I closed off the paths to your mind and made sure there was nothing there that wasn't wholly you." She hesitated a moment. "I think someone did try and poke around, but I cannot be sure completely."

Kili shuddered at the thought, especially since he'd noticed nothing of any intrusion within his mind. "Is that what the cold was about? Or the trees?"

Galadriel went still as any statue that had been carved from marble or granite. She blinked very slowly. "Trees?"

Kili laughed a bit, but only as a reaction to stress and not in humor. He described what he'd seen and felt, watching as his father's mother's mother paled and stared at him. He finally finished, but she did not answer nor respond. Finally he dared to wave a hand before the eyes of one of the most powerful persons on the face of Arda.

Her eyes finally blinked and she reached out as if to touch his face, but stilled before her fingers made contact. "I remember these things." She said vaguely.

Kili frowned.

"Before the First Age, was the Years of the Trees. And the cold, oh the freezing ache that was the Helcaraxe crossing."

Dark eyes nearly crossed as he struggled with what history he knew. "Before the First Age?" He echoed.

Galadriel broke the spell by laughing. Real laughter, dripping with delight and wonder. "You saw through my eyes, and through my memories."

Kili stared at her as if she'd lost her mind.

The Lady shrugged. "I have a long history, you didn't get a chance to see it all. For which I am glad."

Suddenly he was supremely relieved that there was nothing in his past that he was ashamed of, not in any real sense. Mistakes, of course. But nothing that she'd have seen that would make him want to stick his head in the sand.

"So. Tell me about how you and Fili missed huge trolls stealing the ponies?"

Kili sighed and started wishing for some sand. And that's when he noticed, his headache was gone. Faded to a dull ache that was much more manageable. He blinked over at the she-elf who had given birth to the woman who'd in turn carried his father. "Thank you."

Galadriel's smile could have lit the entire room.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman didn't even bother cursing. He'd felt the Lady of Light as she entered the dwarrow-child's mind. He didn't bother to try and fight her, not here. Not now. Yes. The resulting struggle would have shredded the poor prince's brain into mush. Not something he cared about. But. She would have recognized whom she was fighting against.

And Sauron was adamant that this was not the right time. What Sauron demanded, Saruman delivered. The Dark Lord wanted the wizard's role to be a discrete one for now. So it would be.

With reluctance he slipped away from young Kili's mind, leaving no trace and no changes, much as he'd been tempted. Still. He'd seen enough to know that the lad still trusted in wizards. He had Gandalf to thank for that small boon, he assumed.

Whatever the reason, it was good to have trust. Saruman smiled.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel missed supper, but knew that the empty feeling inside her did not come from something as common as lack of food. Besides, she was too upset to eat.

Legolas. His face filled her thoughts. An elf she'd admired for nearly as long as she could remember. Handsome, strong, resolute.

Kili. Dark hair replaced light and utter laughter replaced mere amusement. She'd known him far less, but it felt like an entire lifetime. Handsome, strong, and resolute.

The she-elf sat down on the high-backed chair next to a small desk in one corner of her room. The guest room was smaller than the one she'd originally been shown. Yet, this one suited her better and she'd been relieved when Balin had read her correctly and gifted her with this room. The reason was the balcony, and its access to the sky.

But tonight the stars were of little comfort and offered no advice.

Legolas. Arrogant. Prideful. Deferring to his father instead of standing up for what he himself thought to be true. Sometimes blind to her feelings.

Kili. Also arrogant and prideful. Unsure of who he was and his place in the world now that his father had shown himself. Sometimes immature in his thinking. Was that merely age, or was it personality?

Tauriel groaned. She wasn't perfect. How could she expect either of them to rise to that standard? No one could.

She loved Kili. Loved him wholly and honestly. Left the Mirkwood for him.

But Legolas? He'd been her dream for many years. One she'd never thought reachable. Only here he was, declaring himself interested.

And she was going to have to hurt her oldest and dearest friend. For she could not imagine anything he could say that would change her feelings for Kili.

When she'd returned to her rooms alone tonight, it was to cry. Something she hadn't done since her parent's death so long ago. But these tears had been for Kili, for what she would have missed if today hadn't turned out so well.

Love was real. And she had it. Perhaps if Legolas had long ago said those words to her, things would be different. But her dreams had faded into friendship, and her love was for a dark-haired and dark-eyed prince who made her heart ache just to think about him.

A hesitant knock on her door had her pausing. She didn't want company tonight. But perhaps she needed the distraction. It was probably Ori anyway, and she did enjoy his company.

Opening the door, it was with some shock that she saw three faces that she'd not really expected. "Brunere, Sealyn, and Erelinde?"

The three dwarrowdams looked as nervous as mice in the middle of a room surrounded by owls. Yet they all smiled at her and Tauriel dropped her arm, inviting them inside. Were they here to discourage her from seeing Kili?

Sealyn looked around the room, though there was nothing to really see. Brunere held out a plate with some fresh baked cookies.

Erelinde twisted her lips and then smiled. "You've been nice to me."

Whatever Tauriel had expected, it wasn't this. She eyed the blond beauty that had captured Fili's attention so thoroughly. They hadn't spoken much, even though they'd shared the same dinner table several times now. "Not especially."

"Nice enough." Erelinde corrected, then shrugged. "Some are rude, some are nice, and some try to get me to speak to Fili about things, or ask me what I've heard."

Sealyn and Brunere nodded, as the plate of cookies got put on the desk.

"Erelinde says you've been straight forward and open." Brunere added, then shrugged. "I've only been to eat with Bofur the one time, but you were welcoming."

"Why haven't you been to the dinner table with the rest of us?" Tauriel asked Sealyn. "I know you've been seeing Nori. Both Dori and Ori are really pleased with that."

"Nori won't eat with the king." Sealyn blushed. "Don't know why. They've argued. Though I've never heard Nori say a bad word about him."

Tauriel stopped, nearly biting her tongue. She had a suspicion that Nori was working for the king in some sneaky manner. If Sealyn didn't know, it wasn't her place to say. Especially as she did not know anything for certain. "I'm sure it will heal between them." She offered weakly.

"But, as we've said. You've been nice. Kind, really." Sealyn straightened her shoulders. "So. We're here to interfere."

Tauriel blinked, unsure how to react. "I won't be told how to decide."

Erelinde shook her head. "Certainly not. But it occurs to us, that you don't know many dwarrowdams."

The red-head nodded slowly. That was true enough.

"Nor do you know a lot about our customs." Brunere continued.

Sealyn stepped forward. "We're here to answer questions, not tell you what to do."

Erelinde waved a hand at her friends and then at Tauriel. "Ask us anything. We will answer and waive the right to be offended or think a question is silly or commonplace."

Brunere leaned in conspiratorially. "I saw you today. You greeted Prince Kili by touching foreheads. Why?"

Tauriel licked her lips. "I've seen it done. Here in Erebor. It denotes closeness." She paused, suddenly feeling unsure. "Doesn't it."

"Among dwarrow, yes." Sealyn smiled and winked. "Now. Would you like to know how dwarrowdams greet each other? Males they know?"

"Males they want to know?" Brunere this time.

"Males they don't want to know?" Sealyn spoke up again

Erelinde went next. "Males that they are related to in some way?"

"Or males that they love?" Tauriel stopped them all with her question. "How would you greet those they love? And why? Don't you want Kili for yourselves?"

All three dwarrowdams smiled widely. "We have eyes." Sealyn spoke up, seemingly the leader of the threesome. "We can see where his heart lies."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	36. In which the importance of support is discussed

Bofur looked up from the stack of papers, blinking his eyes wearily. Catching sight of a certain person though, perked him right up. There was no mistaking that sweetly rounded form that held his attention so well. The hatted dwarrow excused himself quickly and hurried to take the laden tray from the violet-eyed dwarrowdam.

Brunere didn't seemed surprised at his sudden appearance beside her. She smiled a bit shyly at him and nodded as she allowed him to take and carry the tray of meats, cheeses and breads. She held onto the covered pitcher of fruit juice. "I thank you."

The miner bobbed his head with a smile. "You're up late. Later than usual I mean. Not that I notice how late you usually stay up, only that I know you go to the healing halls early every day. Not that I'm the type who keeps up with unimportant stuff like …shit! Not that you're unimportant!" He turned left at the side hallway and then stopped when he realized that the dwarrowdam had turned right. He raised his brows at her in question hoping she wasn't thinking him a blooming idiot.

Brunere clucked her tongue lightly. "This way." Was her only remark.

Bofur knew that her room was in the other direction, and it occurred to him that now she knew that he knew that. Obligingly he followed her. "Busy day." He stopped his tongue from wandering further afield through sheer effort of will, hoping to salvage her image of him.

The violet-eyed dam smiled and nodded. "At least now you know the reasons for all of those holes you were worried about."

The hatted dwarf's chest expanded with pride, as her comment meant that she'd been paying attention to his ramblings about the work he was doing in Erebor. "Aye, that's true. Though now we have to find a way to hunt them down before they do any more damage."

Brunere headed up a flight of stairs, leaving Bofur to admire her form from behind as he followed appreciatively. She may not be the most outwardly beautiful dam he'd ever seen, but there was something about her that made him just want to hold her close on a cold winter's night. He sighed happily. Then blinked as he realized where they were. Where was she going? These were guest quarters. Near the outer walls.

The dwarrowdam stopped in front of a certain door and Bofur tried hard not to look surprised. This was Tauriel's room. Brunere turned and gave him a measuring look, then knocked on the door.

Sealyn Heavyaxe opened the door, not the tall she-elf with vibrant red hair whose room it actually was. Bofur's eyebrows climbed even higher.

"Here." Erelinde, the pretty blonde that Fili was enamored with, approached and gestured for him to give her the serving tray. She smiled sweetly at him and he found himself smiling right back without even thinking about it.

Bofur opened his mouth, though he was at one of those rare moments in his life that he wasn't sure what to say or ask. "I hope you all are enjoying the evening." It was an inane comment.

Sealyn moved aside to let Brunere into the room. She peered out at the hatted dwarf with a small smile. "Yes. We are, thank you." She bowed her head and Bofur returned the gesture even as the door began to shut between them, leaving him alone in the hallway.

The dwarrow stared at the door with a silly smile growing on his face. "Three dwarrowdams and a she-elf in one room. Will Erebor still be standing on the morrow?"

The door stilled while Sealyn peered out at him through the narrowed opening. Suddenly she grinned. "Are you going to be injured tomorrow?" She asked leadingly.

Bofur's breath caught. "Should I be?" He asked with dawning hope, though he couldn't see Brunere behind the Heavyaxe daughter.

Sealyn winked at him. "Perhaps at two hours past the noon meal?"

"Three!" Came a voice from within the room.

Sealyn shrugged. "Three hours past the noon meal? Can you manage to be injured around then?"

Bofur grinned suddenly, his smile nearly blinding as he chuckled. "Aye. I think that might be manageable."

"Good." Sealyn shut the door this time and Bofur found himself looking around gleefully, but with no one to share his news with. He bounded back down the stairs toward the meeting he'd abandoned. It was only a few minutes later that he was approaching the others, still hard at work.

Fili grumbled, catching sight of Bofur's return, a frown on his mobile face. Balin simply shrugged and shot his returning friend a look of supreme amusement. Leaving Brorgic Grimbasher to ignore the returning dwarrow as she rubbed his still sore leg which was stretched out on what had been Bofur's seat. And he didn't look like he was willing nor inclined to return the space on the bench either.

Bofur eyed the older mining engineer and didn't say a word, instead grabbing one of the chairs from a nearby table and dragging it noisily back to their table.

"Can we get back to this?" Brorgic groused in a raspy voice. "Those warning bells today were rung by a miner hearing tall, blond and too skinny calling for assistance."

Fili snorted at the description of the Mirkwood prince, still angry over the elf's assumption that Tauriel was his for the asking. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Would the red-haired female stay with Kili? He'd always been raised with the premise that elves weren't to be trusted, that their word wasn't worth the air that they used to speak the words aloud. Was Tauriel better than that? His brother thought so, certainly. But was Kili seeing true?

"The warning bell sequence was from the Iron Hills, not Ered Luin." Balin huffed and pointed at Bofur. "The information was all wrong. Sent us looking in the wrong direction. Had poor Fili running around the lower mining levels looking for workers caught with dangerous gas levels."

Fili grunted, his usual good mood no were evident. Feeling bombarded on all sides, he rolled his shoulders trying to force himself to relax his tension a bit.

Balin lifted up his quill and dipped it in the dark ink well. "We need to list all the warning signals from both Ered Luin and the Iron Hills, note where they differ."

"Pardon, but it's not just those two places." Brorgic complained. "I've tried to tell ye, but you're just going with the two most obvious choices."

"They're obvious for a reason." Balin pointed out patiently.

The Grimbasher shook his head as if in denial. "Ered Luin isn't ONE place. It's a large area with scattered settlements of dwarves, all with small to middling mining arrangements. Each tailoring their warning systems to their own needs. It's all going to be a mess."

"So we choose the Iron Hills bell language." Fili shrugged, wanting to be out of here. He needed someplace quiet to gather himself together. Or better yet? Find Erelinde and maybe play his fiddle for her while she crafted. Right now, that sounded ideal to him.

Bofur twisted his mouth in disagreement, shaking his head at the same time. "Nay, nay. Miners from the Iron Hills won't be as plentiful as those returning from exile from other places. Some yes, but not enough. I say we go with Ered Luin systems. Unless anyone here recalls which way they did it here in Erebor before the dragon?"

Brorgic groaned. "THAT list is what I can remember. But the list over there is what Balin recalls. They overlap for a lot, but not really."

Balin sighed heavily. "So. We keep compiling our lists, compare and choose the best way to go. I still say the Iron Hills system would be best. They're closer in size to Erebor than Ered Luin."

Bofur immediately protested that the size of the mine was irrelevant, it was a question of familiarity. Still, he couldn't stop from smiling.

Brorgic argued for a moment, then chuckled as he shook his head at Bofur. "Hard to rile a dwarrow when he's in courting mode and things are going well. Good news?" He pointed one knobby jointed finger at the hatted dwarf's soppy smile.

Bofur grinned even wider and shrugged, not commenting. Fili flashed him an irritated look. "Well, I want my own type of good news. Can we get finished with this? I missed escorting Erelinde to dinner." It was clear he was hoping to have a chance to see the beautiful blonde dam before retiring for the night.

Bofur laughed and shook his head. "Stay on here, you're missing naught. Beauty's not in her crafting room."

Fili blinked, leaning back and staring at his friend with suddenly cold blue eyes. "Oh?" Lately he'd been seeing a few Iron Hills dwarrow loitering about whenever he could manage to get Erelinde out from the crafting halls. It didn't matter that she never seemed to notice the attention, he did.

"No, no." Bofur held up his hands placatingly. "She's with Sealyn and Brunere. Just saw her with them."

Fili sighed, but his mood immediately lifting somewhat since he knew she was in safe hands. Though it did put a spike in his plans for the evening. He liked the dams well enough, but it was hard to court with them watching on. He gave a chagrined smile of disappointed amusement. "Ah well."

"And ….Tauriel." Bofur drew out the she-elf's name in a drawl, delighted by the surprised expressions on all the dwarrow's faces. "They're all together. Eating. Chatting." He wiggled his fingers together in front of him as if to denote busyness.

The blond crown prince stared a moment, his blue eyes showing he didn't quite know what to think. He turned and looked at his uncle's friend and advisor, but Balin didn't seem to know any more than he did. The white-bearded dwarf shrugged and shook his head, though he was smiling benignly.

"The elf-lass sought them out?" Brorgic asked, running his hands over his thick beard.

"Doubtful, they're all in her guest room." Bofur shrugged. "I guess we'll all just have to wait and see. With food and drink and settling in for a good visit. Friendly-like."

Balin shrugged. "We'll either hear about it, or we won't. We just have to be patient would be my guess."

"We are stone." Fili repeated the often used phrase of the Dwarves meant to convey they had infinite patience. Only …he wasn't sure how stone-like he felt at the moment. What were those females talking about?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Celeborn waggled a finger through the distressed fabric while Glorfindel shook his head in mock despair. "You keep losing clothing, my friend, and you might end up having to borrow from our guests." The golden haired warrior teased dryly.

Celeborn's eyebrow rose in mute derision to that comment.

Glorfindel was hardly deterred, however. "The pants would end somewhere around your knees, perchance. The sleeves maybe just at the elbow crease. It would be a most interesting appearance that you would make." He sipped from his wine, looking utterly at ease and lounging back in his chair looking almost boneless. The picture of lazy contentment.

"Acid water." The leader from Lothlorien felt the weakened threads of his once fine robe part and let another finger slip through the growing hole. "Of all the dangers I might have imagined upon coming here, the water turning acidic was not one of my thoughts."

Glorfindel ran a finger slowly around the rim of his wine glass. "Kuilaith did well, from what I saw. Keeping Elladan's head out of that water lest it contaminate that head wound further."

"Yes." Celeborn kept his answer short. He knew what the old warrior was getting at with his meandering words. While he'd not announced his feelings to their hosts, the silver-haired elven leader continued to have reservations about the newest member of his family. Though his reasons were dissipating quickly. "He wins me over faster than Elrond did." He admitted slowly.

Glorfindel's lips moved redolently into a smug smile. "Lord Elrond." He poked at the father-by-marriage of the Rivendell leader. "Your wife has accepted Kuilaith far more readily than I would have thought."

Celeborn considered the people involved even as he nodded. It was true that Galadriel was far more calculating than he was himself. That he was the one that acted out of heart and compassion while his wife kept herself back and made more informed decisions. He shook his head lightly. Here in this Dwarven kingdom, their roles seemed to be reversed.

"He is not as I would have thought." Celeborn said, his voice cautious.

"None of the dwarves are." The golden-haired elf pointed out without blinking, as if daring the elven leader to gainsay him.

Celeborn stared back at the ancient elf and sighed. "Perhaps."

Glorfindel nodded, pleased, even as the door opened without fanfare and the males turned to watch Lady Galadriel as she stood framed there.

Both male elves stood, though the golden-haired one bowed his head to her while the silver-haired one held out his hand in warm welcome.

"All is not well?" Celeborn finally asked, as his wife did not move to take his hand as she normally would.

Galadriel moved into the room while Glorfindel moved behind her, readying to leave the married couple alone. The Lady shook her head. "Stay, please."

Glorfindel turned his bright eyes upon the duo with some speculation. These were not his leaders, and he had no bond with them other than friendship that stretched out longer than many kingdoms have even existed. He slowly shut the door, staying inside the room and giving her another short nod of his head.

"Elladan? Kuilaith?" Celeborn asked, his face a mask of neutrality, though he clearly was worried to those who knew how to read him.

"Are fine and will return to full health quite soon." Galadriel informed them, easing the moment if only slightly.

Celeborn moved to the wine and lifted up an empty glass toward his wife, who inclined her head in acceptance. He poured for her graciously.

Glorfindel waited for the wine to be poured, offered and accepted before he licked his lips. "I presume it was you who was blocking Kuilaith's every thought from flowing forth like the Celduin river?"

Galadriel nodded her head very slightly in acknowledgment. "He left the doors wide open within himself."

"Dangerous." Celeborn noted. "But he is only in the beginning stages of learning. I thought it impressive that he was able to gather himself well enough to use this means to call for assistance."

"There was someone lurking in his mind."

Both males stilled at the new information. Celeborn and Glorfindel's eyes found one another as their nerves quickened with the unsettling thought.

Galadriel continued, her voice both lyrical and strangely disturbing as the tone turned sharpish. "This someone was new there, not entrenched and not embedded deep into his thoughts, motives or emotions."

Glorfindel started breathing again and he finished off the wine in his glass, though making no moves to replenish the refreshment.

Celeborn nodded slowly. "Someone who entered when he threw open his mind so thoroughly." His gaze was cold as he considered the options. "Mordor?"

"I believe someone held in that dominion, their body closer but their mind and soul already chained to the Dark One." Galadriel sighed unhappily.

"A dwarf?" By the tone of his voice Glorfindel showed that he did not believe his own guess.

Neither did Galadriel. "No. I could not place the origin, but the feel of the mind was not Dwarvish."

Celeborn stiffened with affront. "Elvish?" His mind raced. "Not one of us."

"No." The Lady of the Wood shook her head.

Glorfindel hissed suddenly, his eyes wide. "But he is a member of the White Council, who stands AGAINST all that is Mordor."

Frowning with clear disapproval, Celeborn shook his head. "Could he have been searching the lad's mind for intrusions the same as you?"

"Yes." Galadriel nodded sagely. "In fact, Saruman admitted the intrusion when I contacted him. He hid nothing from me."

Celeborn's eyebrows raised. If Saruman had been so straight forward, why did his wife sound unhappy? He knew better than to ask though, he simply waited for her to continue at her own pace.

The silence stretched but a few moments, though it seemed far longer. Finally, the Lady of Light looked away. "It bothers me that he heard and responded with an immediate search of Kuilaith's mind."

"Rather than hurrying to a physical rescue." Glorfindel clarified her words aloud as his mind tried to hurry and catch up with her.

"It would not be how Gandalf would have reacted, nor so the other wizards now in Arda." Galadriel's voice drawled out the words to show her confusion on how to take Saruman's actions.

Celeborn reached for the wine bottle and gestured for Glorfindel, but the warrior shook his head negatively. The silver-haired leader refilled his own glass, more to give himself time to organize his thoughts than out of need. "Saruman is the leader of the wizards." He speculated. "It could be that he is far more focused on Mordor as an enemy, than Kuilaith as an individual."

Glorfindel frowned. He had never liked leaders that put the big picture up before the people that would be affected. For him it was simple. There was a demon of flame and shadow coming after those you had sworn to protect. So you put yourself and your sword in the path of the Balrog in order to stop him. He shook his head grimly. He'd won that battle, but he'd also died.

"I was sent back to defend against Mordor."

Galadriel and Celeborn turned to stare at the golden-haired warrior of old. The dragon-slayer had never said to what purpose the Valar had gifted him with another life and a return to Arda.

Glorfindel cleared his throat slightly. "I thought that Mordor was defeated, of course. But as Sauron rose from a position as a servant to Morgoth then my next foe would be someone who likewise had once served Sauron. I did not expect that the Deceiver had actually survived to resurface once more."

Hearing the name of the original Black Foe made Celeborn uncomfortable, but he did not interrupt.

"I chose to stay in Erebor for love of the sons of Elrond. For amusement. For friendship. And even a growing appreciation for a race and culture I had never before considered." Glorfindel's smile turned grim. "I stay now because I feel this place is important in the coming battles. Erebor will not become Gondolin."

As speeches went, it was moving, even to such ancient worthies as Galadriel and Celeborn. Both bowed to Glorfindel deeply, showing him utter respect, and even love.

"Would that the mine not serve as your new tomb." Celeborn covered his heart with his hand as he rose out of his bow.

"I would only return and raid it for my sword." The golden haired warrior teased. He sobered and looked over at Galadriel. "I serve here."

She nodded to him.

"Do I face off against a wizard?" It was a pointed question.

Galadriel took his worry quite seriously and then reluctantly shook her head. "I think not."

"Gondolin was lost by betrayal from within." Lord Celeborn pointed out the obvious, referring to the treachery of Maeglin.

The Lady of Light held up one hand, asking for patience. "I have no reason to distrust Saruman and every reason to believe him wholly committed to our cause."

"But?" Celeborn and Glorfindel spoke at the same time, shooting each other grimly amused glances.

"Nothing. Nothing." Galadriel waved her hand as if swatting something irritating and flying from around her face. It was an odd gesture for one so usually graceful. "I did not like finding him lurking within the mind of my daughter's son's son."

Celeborn nodded carefully, though he would never truly forget that his spouse did not fully like the White Wizard. Her mild reactions had been known to turn into something far larger as time continued. He would make note.

"Will you continue your lessons with young Kuilaith? Now that he has learned to shout mentally?" Glorfindel tried to channel the subject onto safer grounds.

"More than ever." The Lady smiled secretly. "Especially now that he has seen the light of the trees."

Celeborn blinked. Glorfinel stared. Both males waited, but she did not elaborate, simply stared back at the two of them with gloating.

"He saw your memories?" Celeborn finally asked, knowing how deeply she would have had to immerse herself into the mixed-blood prince's mind to reset his defenses. "He had that capability?"

Galadriel met her husband's gaze straight on. "He bathed in the light of the trees and heard the starsong. He shivered in the cold of the Helcaraxe. Fortunately we did not remain so melded for long."

The golden-haired warrior opened his mouth, but found he had nothing to say. He looked down at his empty wineglass and decided now was the time for replenishment.

"He saw these things?" Celebron tried to clarify.

"Kuilaith awoke shivering, a cover of frost on his eyelashes." Galadriel's eyes sparkled as she passed the wine bottle to an unsettled Glorfindel without his asking.

Celeborn shook his head, not believing what he knew had to be true. His wife would not make light of such things. "He is but a mortal!" The silver-haired elvish leader protested sharply.

"Mortal, perhaps." Glorfindel set aside the now empty bottle and held up his full glass in a salute to the Lady of the Wood. "But it appears that Kuilaith is more than the sum of his ancestors."

"The potential is there. If he'll get over being afraid of the Eldar light now awakened within him." Galadriel spoke dryly.

Celeborn stiffened suddenly. "Does Saruman know?"

"No." Galadriel sounded very sure. "He dismisses Kuilaith as nothing more than the fruit of a needed alliance. Unimportant other than as a bridge between elves and dwarves."

"And you are not going to inform him that his opinion is wrongful." Glorfindel guessed, mollified when Galadriel nodded that he was correct. "You're not going to tell King Thorin either."

Celeborn twisted his mouth in concern. "This might be best staying within this room." Meaning to include both twin sons of Elrond. "The less who know, the safer Kuilaith remains."

Glorfindel frowned suddenly. "Why am I in this room?" He asked a bit harshly.

"Because my husband will be returning to Lothlorien. He needs to be there to protect our land and our people from the incursions of Mordor."

Celeborn nodded gamely. "Arwen will need to return with me."

"Elrohir has been making noises about returning North to continue training the Rangers." Glorfindel pointed out.

"I will speak to him." The silver-haired elf lord spoke up. "He will stay here. There is no question of Elladan's residency. Not while his son remains within this kingdom."

Glorfindel suddenly chuckled. "She might be doing you a favor, Lord Celeborn."

The leader from Lothlorien looked up, raising a single eyebrow in question.

"You do seem to be running out of clothing. A trip home might be just the thing for you …and your wardrobe." Glorfindel raised his wineglass, laughing.

Galadriel sighed, but was smiling.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"What kind of cookie is this?" Tauriel asked cautiously, peering at the plate and its circle of baked goods.

"Sugared spice cookies." Brunere smiled. "Don't worry if you'd not tried them before. They're actually a Man recipe. We lived in a human settlement since 'adad and his parents fled the dragon."

Tauriel stilled, not sure how to react. That was happening a lot tonight. Things would be easy, then awkward, then easy again. It was a very strange evening.

Sealyn cocked her head slightly to one side. Her astute mind working out the timeline. "You were part of Thranduil's army when the dragon attacked."

The army that turned away rather than offering help or aid.

Tauriel truthfully shook her head. "I was stationed along the northern borders of the Mirkwood as goblins had been raiding the area. I did not learn of what had transpired until months later." She peered over at the young dwarrowdams, who had not yet been born at that time. "I do sorrow for the suffering caused by the dragon." And the elves …her words were unspoken but felt.

Sealyn watched the tall she-elf a moment, then nodded. "This is a new start. For us all."

Erelinde stood, stretching her arms up overhead with a grin. "Alright. Say you walk into a room. There is a male that you like as a friend only." She pointed to the right. "And a male you want no words with."

Tauriel straightened and pointed to the indicated areas. "For the one I like as a friend, I brush his shoulder with my hand. For the one I don't want to speak with, I acknowledge with a glance but stay away."

"If he approaches you?" Brunere added.

Tauriel smiled glumly. "Skewering him with my blade would be too much?"

Sealyn laughed so hard her eyes watered a bit and she waved her hands at Erelinde.

The white-blonde twitched her lips in suppressed humor. "Perhaps a tiny bit too much."

"Alright then, I gesture like this." Tauriel held her right hand in front of her, with the palm facing away and toward anyone who'd approached her. She swept the hand across her body from the height of the opposite shoulder and down to her right hip.

Brunere clapped in approval. "Yes!"

"If he persists, you might get away with drawing your blade and baring your teeth." Sealyn would have sounded apologetic if she wasn't still fighting the giggles. "Just don't draw blood but for the most egregious of circumstances."

Brunere nodded in agreement. "Now. To greet someone whom you are interested in, but has not yet gifted you with a courting bead?" She pointed at Tauriel's nashatal braid.

Tauriel placed a hand over her heart and then up to her lips. "Is this Khuzdul?"

"Partly." Brunere pushed off the question, though she was pragmatic enough to know the elf would need to learn the Dwarven secret language including the hand signs. That is, if there was the wedding that was seemingly a foregone conclusion.

Erelinde picked up a cookie, nibbling on it as she watched. "Alright. How would you greet the King?" She smiled and nodded as Tauriel gave an informal bow. "And a family member?"

"I have no family here." Tauriel pointed out the obvious.

Sealyn's eyebrows rose and she shook her head. "Bifur." She pointed out the warrior's braid and bead on the opposite side of the elf's hair from her nashatal braid.

The red-head paused, looking appalled. "Have I been offending him?" She hadn't been making special gestures toward the dwarven warrior.

Brunere shook her head. "He's shown no offense. So I think he probably knows you don't realize how to greet him properly. But …" She made a hand sign that involved touching the thumb to the ring finger. "Touch this to the side of your head, the ear is best. It's a greeting. But if you're feeling very warmly, you can touch this signal to his ear."

Tauriel stopped, her mind racing. "I have never seen this done." Were the dwarrowdams playing with her?

Sealyn shook her head. "It's not done among the males. And it's not done all the time, even for us females. You don't go around saying 'good morning' every time you see the same person. Especially in close quarters. It's an informal formal kind of thing."

"Informal formal." Tauriel repeated, feeling utterly lost. Then she sucked in a harsh breath. "If I marry Kili, will I have to do that to the king?"

Sealyn stilled, throwing a look over at Brunere, who shrugged and glanced over at Erelinde. But the blonde didn't look like she knew the answer either as she shook her head and shrugged. "Well now. I suppose you'll have to clarify that after the wedding."

"It is not decided yet that there will be a marriage." Tauriel didn't want to speak on what might be, in case it did not come to pass.

Sealyn blew off the comment as inconsequential. "That prince will marry you, have no doubts. It's on you if there will or won't be a wedding."

"And the king, Kili's father, his mother, his brother and …"

Brunere waved off the elf's litany. "Weddings aren't decided by families, not traditionally. But by the couples."

Tauriel crossed her arms, looking unsure. "Are you telling me that King Thorin and Elladan, son of Lord Elrond will have NO say?"

Erelinde blushed and then shrugged. "We're not used to royal couples. Technically they shouldn't have a say."

Brunere patted Tauriel on the back as she walked over to the taller she-elf. "King Thorin would have tossed you out of this mountain if he was completely against you marrying his sister-son." She didn't mention Elladan, because she didn't know him nor could she make a guess on his reactions.

"Let's get back to what we DO know." Sealyn steered them all back to the practical. "To greet Kili, who does wear your nashatal bead, while you wear his courting clasp …then you would approach him …how?"

Tauriel eyed the dwarrowdams and hoped desperately that they weren't having a game at her expense. She rose up and leaned toward Sealyn, putting her cheek next to the dam's with maybe two finger-lengths distance between them.

Brunere grinned and Erelinde sighed happily. "Yes." The white-blonde approved. "And after you two are married then you would touch cheeks upon greeting each other."

The she elf looked first at one of the lasses, then in turn at each of the others. "None of you wear this braid." Tauriel reached up and flicked the nashatal braid and its accompanying beads.

Sealyn shrugged. "That is in our futures. Once we have established which males we might be interested in being courted by. It's not necessary before betrothal, but widely used." She leaned in as if to convey a secret. "Brunere will wear one soon, perhaps tomorrow."

"Not tomorrow!" The violet-eyed dam shook her head in wide-eyed denial. "Too soon! Tomorrow is just a walk."

"A walk in your best dress." Erelinde winked. "Which you asked me to mend the hem. It's ready and back in your room already."

"Thank you." Brunere settled back with a weather eye on the two dwarrowdams she knew might still say something to embarrass her. "And it's my second best dress."

Sealyn laughed. "Will you wear your prettiest bra?"

"NO!" Brunere made a cross face at her friend who was having fun at her expense.

"What is a bra?" Tauriel asked, shocking all three dwarrowdams right down to the marrow in their bones. Silence.

Finally, Elrelinde coughed to get the red-head's attention and pointed at the elf's bosom. "An undergarment for support." She paused for a moment. "Elves have a different name for such an item?"

Tauriel looked down at her chest, which swelled far less obviously than any of her three companions in the chamber. "Why does it need support?"

Brunere nearly choked on her own tongued, coughing and sputtering while Sealyn stared. The inky-haired dam sighed. "I don't know if I should be jealous or not."

Tauriel felt, and looked, confused.

Erelinde blew out an exaggerated breath and mimicked the shape of a much rounder form. Then moved her hands up and down as if cupping something heavy. "Support, to make you more comfortable. To keep it from hurting if you run …"

"Or dance." Brunere offered, still coughing a bit.

"Or anything." Sealyn sounded a resigned and a bit envious.

Tauriel peered at the three dams. The differences between female dwarves and elves were quite obvious. Beyond the height and facial hair difference, there were the curves. The red-head's face flushed as she realized that there were practical concerns with having a rounded figure that she'd never considered. "They hurt?" She sounded awed and upset for the dams.

Sealyn laughed and then shrugged. "Can hurt. Which is why we wear support. But the males like the curves."

Erelinde nodded ruefully, recalling the host of dwarrow who'd stared at her generous bosom over the years. "Yes they do."

"Fili does." Teased Brunere, drawing a huffy look from her white-blonde friend. "Well he does."

"And Bofur doesn't?" Erelinde pointed out the obvious. "His eyes follow you everywhere."

Tauriel didn't mention that the hatted miner's eyes more often than not were on Brunere's heart shaped bottom than anywhere else.

Round. Tauriel couldn't help but notice that all three of these dwarrowdams were generously proportioned as well as being strong and basically slender. Not in comparison to Elves or Men, but much more so than the dwarrows she'd met. "Male dwarves like these curves?"

Sealyn's smile disappeared. "Kili likes your curves as they are. He is completely in love with you, and anyone standing within eye's reach can see that."

Brunere suddenly laughed and when everyone turned to stare at her she shrugged helplessly. "Perhaps we need to make Tauriel some bras, not that she needs them, but to push what she has up and out. Make Prince Kili really wake up fast."

"Why would he be asleep?" Tauriel asked, then stilled as incredulous looks turned her way. "What?"

"Not wake up, as in the morning. But …wake up." Sealyn sounded hopeful that the elf would understand.

Doomed to disappoint her new friend, Tauriel shrugged. "As if from a nap?"

"No. From stone." Erelinde sounded a bit choked, her sky-blue eyes round as plates. "Stone." She repeated, as if that clarified everything.

Tauriel shook her head to show she was still at sea.

Sealyn looked over at Brunere and pinned her with a silent plea to speak up.

The violet-eyed dam shrugged helplessly. "Why me?" She squeaked.

"You work in the healing craft!" Erelinde supplied urgently, not wanting to have to explain this to the pretty elf.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Wake up you lazy, motherless clump of sod."

Elladan slitted his eyes open to glare at his grinning twin brother. "You're motherless too." He bit out the words grimly, though without any volume to his voice he still winced at the sound.

"When do you leave for the North?" Elladan asked pointedly.

Elrohir frowned slightly and shook his head, his dark hair moving smoothly around his face and neck. "The Lady informs me that I'm staying."

Elladan stilled at the cautious phrasing. "She doesn't command us."

The younger of the twins by perhaps half-an-hour shrugged. "You would have me gainsay our mother's mother?" He asked with both feigned and real incredulity.

Hearing both what was said and what was implied, Elladan grunted up at his twin. "Did she say why?"

"No." Elrohir shrugged. "Nor did she need to do so."

No. Elladan understood. There was Galadriel, the beloved mother of their mother and there was Galadriel, the Lady of Light and a being of mystical beauty, wisdom and knowledge. He could well guess which one 'told' Elrohir he was to stay in Erebor.

Not trying to seem too obvious about it, Elladan cast his eyes around the room while trying not to move his aching head.

Elrohir grinned. "Kuilaith was sent to bed. He kept falling asleep and we were all afraid he'd either fall out of the chair or wake you up snoring."

Hiding his disappointment, Elladan tried to smile.

Not fooled, Elrohir reached out and caught his twin's hand. "He managed to send out a distress call and it wore him down right to the core of his being."

Elladan's smile immediately stopped. What did his brother mean by a distress call?

"He was worried that since he has no finesse and no ability to direct his call, and that it was strong enough to reach every elf, that your concussion was worsened. By him."

The elf father licked his lips and grimaced at the parched feeling in his mouth. "Did he make it worse?"

"Does it matter?" Elrohir countered and moved to offer his twin a sip of cold, spring water without having to be asked.

Elladan gratefully drank the water, remembering to go slowly as his father would have admonished. When he put his head back down on the pillow it took a moment for the little dwarven war hammers in his brain to stop pounding so loudly.

"Nuluin thinks you were still unconscious when Kuilaith let loose his mental lungs. So no, it did you no harm. Only good."

"It would not matter." The elder twin confirmed. "He really was able to call for assistance? With his mind?"

Elrohir nodded and grinned widely. "Near knocked me on my ass." He sobered and stared at his brother. "While you were out he called you 'da'. Kuilaith was terribly worried about you."

Elladan's gray eyes sparked with interest, pleased.

"Prince Legolas is in Erebor."

A little taken aback by the dull tone in his twin's voice, Elladan stilled. He eyed his brother for a long moment. "I saw him before the floor collapsed."

"He has expressed interest in courting our Tauriel."

Elladan blinked rapidly at the possessive turn of phrase. "She is not ours." He pointed out smoothly, as if unsure how his own twin would react to the denial.

"She is." Elrohir smiled in a way that was more the baring of his teeth. "I agree that I perhaps did not see her so, though I should have."

Elladan's jaw clicked shut as his mind raced on what possibly could have happened since he'd passed out.

Elrohir did not make him ask. "Legolas mentioned that sometimes you don't know what you have until it's gone. I don't want that feeling for my nephew."

"He's a child." Came the immediate protest.

The younger brother sighed and sank down into a nearby chair. "No. I feel you are wrong brother. He is an adult by over half his blood, by their reckoning. He is a trained warrior and hunter. Perhaps not as well trained as an elfling, but more so than all of the Men we start with before turning them into Rangers."

Elladan's gray eyes met his brother's near identical gaze. One accusatory and the other conciliatory.

"I know you missed your son's childhood. But you cannot cling to an image of what is not really there." Elrohir sounded apologetic but firm. "He is an ale-drinking, sword and bow wielding, courting young prince. Not a child."

Elladan refused to answer, turning his gaze up toward the ceiling. He wanted to reject his brother's premise out of hand.

"He is growing out of his clothing already. His beard even looks a bit darker and fuller, though it may never really grow as a dwarf might want." Elrohir paused. "Cirdan the Shipwright has a beard. Kuilaith will not be the only bearded elf."

"Cirdan doesn't name us elves. He is kind and accepting, but goes to great lengths to refer to us as 'sons of Elrond' and not elves." Elladan said softly. "To him we are related, but a separate race."

"He loves us still." Elrohir pointed out. "As we do him."

"What will he deem Kuilaith to be?" The wounded father asked.

"Again. Does it matter? It is funny that you should mention Cirdan." Elrohir took a deep beath and then spoke. "Galadriel sent out messages to him."

Elladan finally turned at stared at his twin again. "How?"

"King Thorin lent her some ravens." Elrohir shrugged. "Can you imagine the look on The Shipwright's face when he gets a message from Dwarvish means?"

Elladan coughed out a sudden laugh, then winced at the pain this caused. Finally he sighed. "I take it she is not sending out birth announcements to the other elvish rulers?"

Elrohir shrugged. "She is locked away with Glorfindel and Lord Celeborn. Who knows?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"What answers do you seek from Cirdan?"

Lady Galadriel, lost in her own musings, turned at looked at her husband. An elf she had fallen in love with a lifetime ago, and it never ceased to amaze her how he could fill her heart. She smiled.

Celeborn's smile answered hers. Human lifetimes they had spent together, many times and generations over. And it still seemed like it was all new between them.

"Nothing. Perhaps everything." Galadriel answered, and not answered.

Celeborn, long used to his wife's ways, shook his head. "You don't know what it means that Kuilaith could feel the reality of your memories."

The Lady thought about that for a very long time, then nodded. "It is true."

The silver-haired leader sat down across from his wife, gathering her hands in his own. "Cirdan is not kin. You seek his advice for he has no stake in what is happening."

"All have stake with Mordor as our enemy."

"You know of what I mean." Celeborn admonished lightly.

Galadriel's hands squeezed his briefly, even as she nodded. "He can speak objectively on Kuilaith as he has never met him, and as you say, is no blood kin of mine."

"The lad is mortal."

"Bodily."

Celeborn let go of her, sitting upright in abject shock. "You seek a place for him on those shores? He is mortal, you know that too well."

"Is his soul? Is the body too mortal, but the soul …could it be Eldar in nature?"

"You mean to ask." He closed his eyes in resignation. "You yourself have been banned from going West, so you seek another to do your asking."

"That has a goodly chance of being changed. We shall see." Galadriel replied smoothly. "Cirdan is wise. He will not do this asking for me if he feels it unnecessary."

"I could have asked." Celeborn offered, knowing before he did so that she would not have tasked him with this. He was too close to her. "He may be denied."

"He has felt the warmth of the Trees. He has lived the bitter cold of the Helcaraxe. Those are not small things."

Celeborn sat back, considering the truth. Those were indeed not small things.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	37. In which Tauriel makes a promise

Tauriel didn't awaken with a headache. She hadn't slept. The dull ache behind her eyes had come on slowly about two hours before dawn. Her red-hair was hidden in the shadows of the sluggish fire, as she hadn't fed any fuel to the hearth in quite a while.

She blinked, finding her eyes a bit dry from staring at the settling flames. Slowly she realized there was a definite bite of a winter chill in the stone rooms. Kili had explained to her that tapestries were usually lining the thick walls to help insulate them. But those fabrics had long since fallen from age and neglect. Only a few had survived.

The she-elf's head turned and she stared at one such masterwork. A faded tapestry denoting some long-ago Dwarven battle. The colors were muted in places, but it was still serviceable. Tauriel could make out some details such as family war banners and the like. Idly, a stray thought floated through her mind. While this was most likely ancient history to the dwarrows, it might have been within her lifetime so great were the age differences between the races. Should she recognize the battle being depicted?

Suddenly it felt like a chasm had opened up between herself and Kili.

Last eve, three dwarrowdams had kindly shared with her some of what it meant to live life as they did. Customs and knowledge common to them, that were foreign to her. Gestures, thoughts, manners, even clothing items she hadn't known to exist. Tauriel frowned.

Last evening she'd been prepared to tell her oldest and dearest friend that she would never love him, for her heart belonged to another.

Was she making a mistake?

A mental image of Kili left her catching her breath. Every line of his beloved face, every laugh, every frown, every smoldering look. They called to her. He called to her. Tauriel licked her dry lips and bit back a moan. Was what she wanted even possible?

She'd come here to this dwarrow stronghold to be near him. To be with him. But last evening was only a small sample of how little she truly understood what it meant to be Dwarven.

_He isn't a Dwarf. Not fully._

Tauriel frowned sharply to herself. Kuilaith. The name echoed within her pain-dulled mind. Always before she'd named him Kili, to others and to herself. That was how she'd met him. That was how she'd fallen in love with him. And that is how he saw himself. As a Dwarven warrior and prince.

But could a Dwarf love an Elf? As for the other way around, she didn't have to wonder. She already knew. Still. What if he grew to resent that she wasn't like the other dwarrowdams? No matter how much they shared, she could never be as they. Not really.

Physically they were different. The Dwarven males looked upon them and found them beautiful in ways that elf males simply would not. Would Kili ever regret his choice? Also, he would age as she would not. Tauriel had thought she'd come to terms with that, but would he grow to resent her? What would be the alternative, though? Life without him. Could she travel the world without him? Could she face Lothlorien or any other land, alone? Return to the Mirkwood?

Should she let him go, for his own good? The red-headed elf didn't squirm or fidget in her chair, not physically. But in the deep recesses of her mind, she had to wonder …What had she done? What had she thrown away?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

King Thorin II of Erebor yawned so widely that his jaw creaked. He walked into the main dining area as if he owned it. Which he did. A cocky grin touched one corner of his mouth and it tweaked upwards as he passed under the archway that still bore scars from dragon claws.

"We are stone." The monarch whispered to the dead spirit of the dragon he still hated.

Thrown from their homes in desolation, the dwarves had been scattered and near broken. Despite goblins, orcs, dragons, and whatever else Mordor, Humans and Elves had thrown at them, they had survived. And returned.

Stone could bear scars. Stone could be broken. But it still endured. Break it down into sand and soil and compress it. Force it to buckle under unimaginable weights and with enough time it became, stone.

"What are you happy about?" Dwalin sounded grumpy as the large warrior joined his king.

"We are stone."

Dwalin grunted in agreement, but no real understanding.

"Smaug is decomposing flesh and we endure." Thorin pointed out with no little amusement, though grim as well. His eyes rolled upwards to look overhead.

The bald warrior's eyes sparked as he too looked up, catching sight of what Thorin had been looking at. An empty space in the archway the same size as a dragon's claw. "We are stone." He agreed with more surety in his voice this time.

Thorin looked around his crowded dining hall, pleased to see the bustle and energy of …he frowned.

Dwalin followed his sire's glance and nodded, this he understood. "Our people return. Stormrune's group was only the first. If winter weren't coming down upon us shortly then they'd already be here. Spring will find Erebor exploding with life. Dain's people will return to the Iron Hills and we will rebuild. Grow.

"As long as we make it safely inhabitable so that it doesn't really explode. Or collapse under the weight of Earth Mover tunnels." Thorin joked with a serious look on his face.

"Hunted down three so far." Dwalin pointed out proudly. "In one day, now that we know what we search for." He paused, looking at the East entrance to the dining area. "High guests we have these days."

Thorin's sapphire blue gaze slid to that direction. Legolas. He grunted as the blond prince of the Elven King moved toward the wizard, Saruman. "We have several guests. Indeed, our most learned guest in white has been making free with our library." He commented coolly.

Dwalin shrugged. "He's a wizard, they like books. He doesn't get in the way."

Thorin frowned slightly. No matter what his feelings about Gandalf, there had always been a warmth to him. Not like this Saruman character. He simply didn't think he'd ever feel comfortable around him.

Dwalin suddenly stiffened once again. Thorin looked toward him and then followed his arrested gaze. Framed in the opposite archway was a certain red-headed she-elf.

Both dwarves immediately glanced over at Legolas. Yes. The prince had noticed her arrival and was smiling in welcome from a place about half-way toward the White Wizard.

Of one mind, both dwarves then slid their eyes back toward Tauriel. She walked up to Legolas neither quickly nor slowly, though also without hesitation. Just about every eye tracked her movement, some while pretending not to watch, while others stared openly.

The entire room seemed to fall just a bit quieter. The prince's announcement of his intentions hadn't exactly been private the night before and it was obvious the news had gotten around.

Dwarves might be stone, but they did love gossip. Thorin sneered.

Tauriel stopped in front of her former prince and he gifted her with a smile and a bow of his head. Which she returned. Then she smiled and said something no one seemed to catch and gently touched the stunned elf on the shoulder in a distinctly dwarven manner, complete with a hand sign made at waist level.

Thorin choked on a laugh as he caught sight of Legolas' suddenly blank expression. The blond prince clearly did not know how to understand the gestures given, for she'd combined the touch with the silent hand sign.

The dwarves did.

Several dwarrow around them weren't able to hold back their laughter, making the moment even more stark for the blond prince.

Dwalin coughed and shook his head. "Think she knows that she just marked him as friend and sword-brother? Someone to greatly respect, but not a romantic interest?"

"He doesn't know yet. But she knows." Thorin shook his head grinning, watching the red-head lead the prince away so they could speak. "She definitely knows. Don't ask me how though."

"Trouble." Dwalin stilled as Kili and Fili walked into the area with several other dwarves. He sighed as the dark-haired prince lost his smile seeing his love with the Mirkwood prince. "Don't ruin it laddie." The bald warrior whispered. "She's doing fine."

"I don't think it's Kili we have to worry about." Thorin's blue eyes narrowed on the clenched jaw of his crown prince who was staring at the red headed she-elf. "Fili doesn't like that she's speaking with Legolas this morning."

Before anyone could react, however, Tauriel caught Kili's hand in her own and leaned in close. Placing her cheek two inches from his. A smile, then she straightened and continued on her way with Legolas following along looking confused.

Thorin laughed rather abruptly at Kili's stunned expression, shaking his head as he spoke. "Nicely done. Though someone should tell her it should have been the other cheek so that her nashatal braid would touch his braid."

"Minor detail." Dwalin sucked in a deep breath and finally laughed as a bemused Fili nearly knocked his younger sibling over to get the love-struck dwarf moving again. "It's really going to happen. I'm going to be related to an elf." His deep rumble of a voice nearly squeaked on that last word.

"I'm already having nightmares." Thorin joked in a dry tone of voice. "And we'll only be related to her through marriage."

"Only." Echoed Dwalin as he rolled his eyes until he was peering at his king. "Until the babies come."

Thorin literally shuddered. "We'll have to make larger cradles just for them." He held out his hands to indicate length. "And we're both going to have to dance with her at the wedding. Where do we put our hands?" He asked rhetorically.

Dwalin's shoulders shook as he bit back a loud laugh and shook his head at his royal cousin. "Don't." He pleaded.

"She'll be able to look down and read your tattoos." Thorin pointed out ruthlessly. "And I dare you not to think about where your eye level will be on her as you dance."

But the bald warrior wasn't so easily broken, he nudged Thorin heavily with his shoulder. "As eldest male patriarch and monarch, you'll have to share the wedding cup with the eldest of her family. The Witch of the Wood."

Thorin shook his head. "No. THAT one belongs to HIS family." He then paused in shock as that thought continued down its natural path. "So it would be Thranduil sharing the cup with her? Or Celeborn? Or would it be Bifur? Would they fight for the honor?" The thought of not being the one to preside over his sister son's wedding was an alarming one. He started to scowl.

"Didn't you tell me that elves just have sex and that's it? They're married? Maybe a few words and then they just go off together. No cups, no ceremonies, no dancing?" Dwalin's voice sounded a bit hollow at the moment. "I'm liking the sound of that right now."

"I as well." Thorin seconded. "Damn Kili. Why did he have to choose to be so difficult?"

"He fell in love."

"Yes, well, he's an idiot." Thorin groused fondly and headed over to get something to eat.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili couldn't stop grinning as he took a seat at the table, looking hopelessly sappy as several nearby dwarrow made congratulatory comments or poked a bit of good-natured fun at him and the lass he was courting. The dark-eyed prince took it all in stride, beyond merely happy.

The near brush of her cheek against his had been a shock. But it would be a treasured memory for the rest of his life. He sighed happily as he looked up at his older brother. He tried to clear the smile from his expression and look serious.

"So, what did you have to tell me this morning?" Kili couldn't manage to keep the grin off of his face, despite the sour expression that his brother had been wearing when dragging him from a nice warm bed. "Survived yesterday with no real injuries. You did say that my father was still recovering well?" Finally he gave up and his face nearly split in two so great was his joy. "You saw, right? Where did she learn that do you think?"

Fili frowned, ignoring the last question entirely. "Elladan's fine." He said absently, his mind racing. Tauriel had just kicked his anger out from under him in a most decisive move. A brush of her hand, a hand signal and a smile. Damn. He chuckled, feeling off-center. "I need a drink."

The younger sibling passed over his mug of juice. "It hasn't fermented yet, but make do. It's too early for aught else. Besides, from what I hear it might be wine for all meals soon. Fresh juices are in short supply until the next harvest. We have some milking cows and goats, but far too few. Thorin decided the milk will go for baking and cheeses rather than drinking, at least this winter. Especially with no dwarflings in residence."

"Except you." Fili provoked dryly, them coughed as he dodged a quick jab from his sibling's sharp elbow. "Lung." He reminded the younger brother.

"Sorry." Kili flashed an apologetic look and sighed. "Heal faster or stop insulting me, your choice. Nevermind. After this morning I'll never be able to be angry again."

Fili focused his attention back on their previous comments. As the crown prince he was more than familiar with the lacks of Erebor's pantry and larders. "Actually, Uncle took my recommendation on the milk usage. We won't starve, but it might be a bit of a dull season without much variety. Wine and fish." He commented bleakly, making a face. "That's what we'll winter on this year."

Kili shrugged, he'd pretty much known that already. And it wasn't like the two brothers hadn't faced winters with less before. "So, what's going on that I need food in my belly before I can face it?"

The blond prince turned his blue eyes toward the archway where Tauriel and disappeared with Legolas. "That doesn't bother you?"

"Yes." Again the dark-eyed youth shrugged. "What do you want me to do? She chose me. Made it obvious too. She wears my clasp, I have her bead. Tauriel greets ME with love, not him." His grin widened as he tore off a chunk of bread and slathered it with soft herbal cheese. "And that blond twig? He let her go. He's a dumb idiot."

"The dumb idiot came back to court her. To make claim upon her. And she's talking to him."

The hand raising the bread to his mouth stopped as Kili's dark eyes narrowed on his brother. He put his food down, staring as all his smiles and humor suddenly vanished. "What?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Legolas looked around the small room as if trying to divine its use, but it was merely an empty chamber with a few stacked chairs. Nothing else.

Seeing the glance, Tauriel nodded. "Storage area for extra seats. For formal presentations and events before the king."

The blond prince sneered at the pitiful number of chairs. "A paltry offering."

"No doubt most of the chairs were broken, flamed, or otherwise in disrepair after so long in forced exile." Tauriel's voice cut smoothly through his words, leaving him feeling a bit regretful of his lack of charity, though also a touch resentful for her defense of the dwarves.

"You greet me and then tell me that you're about to make a gesture. No other warning. Suddenly I'm being laughed at?" It was clear that he was seeking an explanation. Among the elves, the touch she'd given him would be seen as a bit familiar. And the laughter at his expense from a race he rather looked down upon was unsettling at best.

Tauriel bowed her head and dropped her gaze for a moment. "A signal to the dwarves around us that I wasn't taking you away for anything inappropriate. A show of friendship. It was not intended to make anyone laugh. Indeed, they may have been amused by me and if I managed to do it right or wrongly."

Only slightly mollified, Legolas' nostrils flared just a bit. "Truth?"

"There has ever only been truth between us." She countered. "We have been friends for centuries."

"And if you believe we were only friends, then there has not been truth enough between us." He countered in a rush, taking her by surprise.

Backing up a step, she stared at him with her wide green eyes. "There has never been more than friendship."

"Is not hope more? Is not the hope of more, actually more?"

"Riddles." She hissed, her eyes narrowing upon him. "Your father would never have allowed such. Nor did you ever give signal that you would either."

"I don't follow my father as I once did." Legolas told her with grim satisfaction. "If nothing else, I learned from our recent adventures that I am my own person and I can make my own decisions."

A brief pause as she heard the ring of conviction in his voice. Slowly she closed her eyes and shook her head. "As I learned that I can make my own as well." Her doubts of last night aside, now that she was alone with Legolas, she knew one thing for certain. She would not be returning to the Mirkwood.

It would ever be home to her. A fond call to her memories, a place of safety, blessings, and thankfulness. But also a cage to her soul and her heart, one that she had long ago outgrown even if she hadn't known it at the time.

Legolas' blue eyes widened in distress as if sensing her resolutions. He flinched as if to move toward her. She flinched, as if to move away. Both stilled without taking a single step. Wary. Watchful.

"I …we …do not have to return to the Mirkwood." It was a soft tone of voice, for all that the prince's words were explosively meant. "I know you long to see other places."

Green eyes melted with sorrow as well as pride. "I won't be returning." She said as simply as she could. "For now, this will be where I shall stay. From here, possibly Lothlorien. It is an unknown."

He waited, but she had nothing further to add at the moment. "You don't ask me to stay here. With you." It was an offer, one that she only had to extend to him to be accepted.

Bright green eyes studied him for a long expectant moment. Seeing her friend as centuries of memories flowed like a river through her mind. Smiles given and received. Small humors and shared secrets, a bird's nest protected in an area where the king had wanted only quiet. Her assistance with planning a surprise for a mutual friend. Hundreds if not thousands of these little, shared memories. Centuries of friendship. It literally made her heart ache.

All of those moments had gone into making the Mirkwood her home. Making the cage around her palatable and even wanted. But to share with Legolas what she shared with Kili, it was not anything her heart of hearts could contemplate.

Slowly, Tauriel shook her head. Her nashatal braid sliding provocatively along her collarbone as she spoke softly. "I would not hurt you so. You would not be happy here."

Legolas stiffened, feeling the rejection beneath her spoken words. "You really mean to choose him." His voice sounded hollow, empty. Pride and pain were all she could see reflected in his gaze.

"I already have." She admitted, sorrow in her voice. Sorrow for him. Pity. It stiffened his back and gave rage to his temper as his gaze grew ever colder.

"You love me!" The blond prince barked, knowing he was wrong to push at her even as the words left him.

Her nod soothed him only slightly. "I do love you …" She smiled sadly. "My friend."

Her last word was not meant to harm, but the wound to his soul was immediate. Blue eyes closed in utter dejection as he turned his head to the side. "You won't be happy here. He can't make you happy. You will never fit in with these Dwarves." Her words might not have been meant to cut, but his were.

Tauriel did not respond. How could she? Doubts on that very subject had haunted her all night.

Legolas turned and stared at the door, finally he looked back at her. "Come with me."

She didn't ask where, in the end, it didn't matter. Her green eyes just stared at him as she met his gaze head on.

Legolas suddenly shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. "He is a prince, as am I. He has a wealthy family, as do I. It is the other things that I can offer that matter. I will not age and pass away from a mortal death. Our children will not be a separate race. We work well together, always have. And I can offer you my heart, for I love you."

Tauriel's eyes misted and she closed them for a moment. How long had she longed to hear those words without ever realizing it?

The truth hit her hard. Never. Whatever 'love' she'd thought might be in her future, she'd not known the true pain and true joy that was real love if she'd not come across a certain dwarven prince.

Breathing deeply she let reality wash away her doubts, her hurts, her fears. "Legolas. My friend. I love you. When I was young I looked up to you. You eased my hurts and offered comfort and friendship. You were there for me, always. I trust you at my back and I would give my life to protect you from harm."

The Mirkwood prince shook his head in denial as he listened, dreading her speech as it continued. "Don't."

"But not once in all those centuries did I dream of being your love. Not truly."

"My father …" Legolas began his protest.

"Your father was right. In this, he was right." Tauriel could not be gentle enough, no one could. Her words were making his heart bleed. "Even if your father would have allowed, we were not in love. I love you, yes and forever. Perhaps we mistook that for more, but deep inside knew better for we never acted upon it. Our souls knew it wasn't real and true. We were never IN love."

"I was." Legolas' eyes pleaded with her to understand, to just see his sincerity. "I still am. I may not have realized before, but without you beside me …it doesn't work. Nothing works anymore."

Tauriel sighed unhappily. "You will find your footing. If you are serious about leaving the Mirkwood and finding your own way, I applaud you. But I cannot be beside you. I am in love with someone else." She shook her head slowly.

"I love you. That will never change." His voice was stark, almost hoarse in a way that elvish voices just weren't meant to sound.

More sorry than she could say, Tauriel shook her head. "You are not in love with me, not in the way you think. One day, you will see that."

"You cannot presume to know my heart." He drew back, affronted and hurt by her rejection.

The she-elf sighed and made a soft sound of distress at the back of her throat. "My friend. Please. Just listen. If you love me as much as you think you do, then you would have spoken to your father long ago."

Legolas' lips thinned as he spoke. "You think I only seek not to lose you, but that my love is thin and sheer? I did not speak to my father because there was plenty of time …"

Tauriel held up one hand to stop him from speaking, something she would never have dared to do before leaving his father's guard. His voice ceased from surprise more than merely because she asked. "Legolas. I name thee friend forever, even if you walk away and never let your sight fall upon me again. I love you more than I can express. But until I fell in love with Kili …" That name made him visibly flinch but she continued without pause. "I did not know the full power of being in love."

Legolas opened his mouth, but Tauriel didn't let him speak, not yet.

"I may not fit in here. I may never be truly happy among dwarves and living beneath a mountain. I have no love for rocks or stones as I do for the stars and the sky. I may be lonely here, or find myself surrounded by those who care little for me." She paused and gave her words solemnity and weight as she pinned him with her jewel-bright eyes. "But I left all that I knew, all that I loved, all that was familiar and comfortable. I left your father, and you, and all my friends. Not out of unhappiness there …but because the love I feel for Kili is so strong, so true and so …right …that not doing so would have killed me."

Silence fell heavily between the two old friends as their eyes met and held. Long moments passed and it was a blue eyed gaze that dropped first.

"Ask me how do I know your love for me isn't real? You were fine with the way things were. If you truly loved me, that wouldn't have been so."

Legolas' eyes blazed and looked left, then right, as if the elf warrior was feeling trapped. "He's still ugly."

"No, it is your words that are ugly." Her voice sharpened with warning. With sorrow in her breaking heart, she saw him turn and open the door. He paused while leaving, but did not glance back at her. Nor did he speak again.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin paused mid-chew, the just burnt enough griddlecake sweet in his mouth combined with late season blackberries newly arrived from Dale. The humans had discovered large, over-grown brambles long abandoned and hidden from casual view while clearing the area around the once great town. He'd been as delighted to hear of the find as Bard had been to share the news. The ruler of Men had sent them with his envoy on his latest trade caravan along with more barrels of preserved fish.

His mind wasn't focused on those fish at the moment though. Instead his sapphire blue eyes took in the glowering visage that was his younger sister-son. Both of his nephews were talking with growing agitation and hand gestures. Kili's dark expression did not bode well for a leisurely morning or a well digested meal.

Beside him, Dwalin sighed. "I think Balin will be complaining soon." He glanced at his king's expectant look and gave a rueful half-smile. "You're going to be late for your first meetings today."

Thorin turned back to watch Kili stand up and their eyes met from across the dining area. The king shrugged and shook his head. Letting the young prince storm out of the room without stopping him. "No. Keep my schedule. If he wants to make an ass of himself, that is on him."

Dwalin too watched as Fili bared his teeth and stalked out of the room after his brother. "Want me to go after them?"

Thorin sighed and shook his head. "No. Wait. Bring me Fili." He looked down at his still hot meal and grinned darkly. "Actually, make Fili wait for me in my study. I want to finish eating, then I do have that meeting with the mining engineers. Make him wait for me." He said coldly.

"Does he get to finish eating?" Dwalin's own smile was grim.

"No." The king took another blackberry and popped it into his mouth. "Just make sure he goes nowhere until I speak with him. Damn, these are good."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili turned the corner and spied his target, clenching his jaw he stared as Legolas worked on packing supplies. He was leaving.

The blond prince was hardly unaware of the newly arrived audience. But he refused to look in the dwarf's direction. How he knew it was Kili watching him was unclear, but his words were not. "You appear to be the winner."

The mixed-blood youth's scowl deepened with disgust. "It is not a game nor a contest." He protested, his tone highly cutting.

"Yet I find that I am the one who has lost." Blue eyes looked up suddenly, something cold and pained looking out from behind them. Anger lurked there, but beneath that was a bone deep hurt.

Words and temper died as Kili stilled and took a deep breath. He'd not expected to feel sorry for the elven prince. "Tauriel is loyal and true, I am sure that what she felt for you is still there. She will ever be your friend."

The dwarf's voice did not hold pity, but Legolas' nostrils flared as if he could smell it anyway. He drew up to his full height, looking every inch the haughty royal scion of Mirkwood. His hand settled on the hilt of his sword that he'd been about to strap to the travel packs for his mount.

Kili suddenly felt all his temper, all his tension, simply vanish. He found that he really did feel sorry for the blond elven warrior. "Where do you go?"

"Does it matter?" The answer was short, and so was the tone of voice.

"It will to her." Kili said simply.

Legolas sneered unhappily and shrugged without a word.

"Go North." The third voice startled both Kili and Legolas, though it made the dwarrow smile and the blond elf blush to be caught out unaware.

"My Lady." The Mirkwood prince placed his hand over his heart and bowed as Arwen moved gracefully toward them. Though when he rose back up, his eyes couldn't quite meet hers.

"Aa' lasser en lle coia orn n' omenta gurtha." The she-elf's voice slid smoothly over them as she smiled encouragingly at Legolas.

The blond warrior twisted his mouth sourly and shook his head. "It is mean to speak in a language not all can understand." He cocked his head toward Kili.

The dark haired prince's eyes glittered with mirth. "May the vines of your life tree never wither." He smirked as he translated. "I've been paying attention."

"Not close enough." Legolas countered. "It's leaves, not vines. And I wouldn't say 'wither', more like …may the leaves of your life tree never turn brown."

"Turning brown is withering." Kili shot back.

"Not necessarily." Legolas disagreed sharply.

"Cease. Please. Let us have peace." Arwen tried to placate them.

Kili grinned. "Leaves turn brown in autumn, it doesn't mean there is anything wrong with them. It's the cycle. So. The phrase means don't let your life tree wither, as in sicken or take injury. Wither. Because saying don't let your life tree follow the natural path of trees actually goes against elven philosophy." He paused, then smirked. "It's your language, you should have known that."

Legolas stared and then shook his head. "The words still mean 'turn brown' as in meeting death, not withering which is drawing the life from. Entirely different, the subtlety might elude you. That's how it translates. New elfling that you are, you can't go about changing our language."

"Baru is the word for brown, and the meaning doesn't have to be literal." Kili started to argue the point further when Arwen decided to leave delicacy to the side. She put her fingers in her mouth and gave a shrill whistle that caused both males to swing their gazes, and attention, in her direction. The beautiful brunette she-elf then smiled becomingly. "You. Go find Tauriel, she is upset."

Kili stiffened and stared at his aunt, appalled. "Why should he go find Tauriel? He's the one who upset her in the first place."

"So he should be the one to ease her mind." Arwen pointed out smoothly.

Legolas shook his head. "We have no more to say to one another." He said with finality.

"I sorrow for you both then." Arwen bowed graciously, then with her head still down she continued. "Seek the North. You will perhaps find solace in training with the Rangers my old friend."

"With your brothers?" Legolas asked stiffly, looking pointedly at the son of the elder of the twins.

The beautiful she-elf shook her head slowly. "They will remain here for a while yet it seems, both of them."

Kili tilted his head at her words, listening. Hadn't his Uncle Elrohir talked about returning North? When had that changed?

Legolas stared at her for a lengthy moment, then sighed, letting some of his awful tension go. "I may travel in that direction, my path is an unknown one."

Arwen rose and smiled at the blond prince gently. "I would see you again, and see the stars shine upon our meeting. I would see you smile freely once more."

The blond frowned, then nodded formally to his friend. "Perhaps it will be so. Though it seems an impossible thing to me at the moment."

"Elves and Dwarves are friends. How much more impossible do you want to get?" Teased Arwen as she moved toward Kuilaith, putting her hand gracefully upon his shoulder.

Legolas' lips tightened and he fairly leapt into the saddle. "I will never be friends with a Dwarf." His words rang with true conviction as he took up the reins that he hardly needed, so well trained was his horse. "Be at peace." He said almost bitterly as he urged his mount forward, leaving Erebor, and a certain red-head, behind.

Kili sighed as he and his elvish aunt watched the blond prince leave the courtyard. "Is Tauriel really upset?"

Arwen's hand tightened on his shoulder very slightly as she nodded. "I think so, though she does not share with me. But if she hones her blades any further they will be sharp, but thin as a hair comb tooth so worn will be the metal."

Kili sighed at the mental image. "Do you have doubts about Tauriel, with me?"

The question as bald and out in the open. Arwen paused for a long moment, then nodded. "I have doubts about how things will work out. But I have no doubt that you love her, or that she loves you. However, that is only the start of relationship."

Grimacing, Kuilaith gave a rough chuckle as he shook his head. "Ask one question, get several answers all which don't really answer the question in the first place. Yes. You're definitely an elf."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I've been waiting in here for over two hours!"

"And I greet you too, my least favorite relative. And yes, that includes every relative, even the ones I hate." Thorin said blandly as he walked into his private study and tossed several rolled parchments onto the desk rather haphazardly.

Pricked, Fili's head reared back as his eyes widened at the verbal jab. "Uncle …"

"No!" Thorin's voice cut harshly through whatever the crown prince had been about to say. He pointed one authoritative finger right at Fili in a forceful forward movement designed to make the younger dwarrow shut up. It worked.

Thorin pulled up a chair and sat. On the wrong side of the desk.

Fili looked confused.

The king waved a hand at his usual chair behind the desk. "You seem to think you're ready to take over now. Go ahead."

Fili blushed, though he wasn't sure what had set off his uncle's rather perverse mood. "Thorin, please."

"Who are you?"

The blond dropped his gaze and sighed. "Your heir."

"So. I'm the king?" It was a direct question.

Fili felt like a fool as he raised his head and met his uncle's gaze. "Of course you're the king. Have I not worked hard to make sure of it? Put my life and my blood on the line every day of my life?"

"And if I say something, it gets done?" Thorin ignored the pointed comments.

The short blond beard that Fili sported did nothing to hide his unhappy expression, though he nodded sharply.

"We are Dwarves. We have traditions. Some have changed over the years, but not so many as you might think. We are stone, and not easily moved."

Fili nodded again, still silent but for the clenching of his jaw.

"You are angry with me for urging Tauriel to speak with that blond twig of a tadpole."

Now the crown prince's lips twitched, though his amusement lasted only a second or two.

Thorin sighed and shook his head. "Courting is in the hands of the dams. Though Tauriel isn't one of our race, she is female. She has taken on the braid of nashatal. She will be treated as a dam might be treated. That includes this … ANY male can present himself as a potential mate. It is up to her to decide. Not you. Not me. Not even I as the king."

"He has no right." Fili protested, his voice rough and angry.

Thorin looked sadly upon the heir to his throne. "Maybe. But think it through and explain why I am right and you are not."

Fili's teeth ground together so sharply they made a sound. Only, Thorin seemed prepared to wait him out. Finally he shook his head. "I told Kili poorly."

Thorin frowned sharply and waited further.

The crown prince sighed and tried to organize his chaotic thoughts. "Prince Legolas …" His voice held a sneer. "…asked to be considered for courting Tauriel. Only she can say yea or nay."

The king nodded slowly. "And?"

Fili looked up, anger still dancing behind his blue eyes. "Males cannot influence her decision?"

Thorin snorted. "Males have been trying to influence courting decisions from the first awakening. We're just not supposed to. Tell me, aren't you trying to influence Erelinde?"

Staring at his uncle, Fili grimaced even as he acknowledged the comment with a short nod.

"Why am I angry with you?" Thorin continued.

The crown prince straightened his shoulders, running through every possible response. Finally, he frowned. "Because I doubted your decision."

"No. Have doubts. Have questions." Thorin rose, looking stern as he glowered at his sister-son. "But NEVER show them, not in front of the elves. Or Dwarves. Or anyone." He finished pointedly.

Fili closed his eyes in deep embarrassment. He'd known better. But being called out like this made him feel like a shallow youth of twenty again. "I acted poorly."

Thorin sighed and rubbed his beard tiredly. "You're angry. It's causing you ill effects. Making you unwise."

The crown prince shook his head. "I was angry with Legolas, not you."

The king stood and shook his head, moving to stand in front of his heir. Blue eyes met blue eyes. "Fili. You've been angry with me since Lake Town. You've been angry with the elves since they arrived. You're angry with yourself for not being able to hate the elves as you think you ought. You've been angry with …everyone. You've been injured and have barely taken time to heal. You have circles growing under your eyes. You glare at any dwarrow foolish enough to even look in the same direction that Erelinde is standing. And you're angry." He thumped his sister-son on the chest, directly over his heart. "Anger. Rage. Fury. It roars inside you with the heat of the internal forge. It can temper your soul, or melt your heart away."

Fili bared his teeth at his uncle and then stilled, shocked that he'd done so. He blinked rapidly, suddenly unsure. And still angry.

Thorin watched the younger dwarf with suddenly sad eyes. "There were ways of informing your brother of last night's events without setting him off so fiercely."

The blonde gave a rough nod of his head, but said nothing.

"If I am the source of your anger, face me. Do not turn it inward and against yourself." Thorin continued, putting his hand on Fili's shoulder.

The crown prince nodded, submitting to the touch awkwardly before backing away and letting the king's hand fall away from him.

"Fili."

"I'm fine." The prince offered a tight smile. "I apologize. It won't happen again." He bowed stiffly and waited for release.

Unsatisfied, Thorin waved for him to go. Watching with a worried expression in his concerned gaze. "There's an explosion coming." He muttered to the empty room.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel was aware the moment Kili came even fifty feet of her room, hearing the pattern of his walk and the sound of his boots. She let the whetting stone go as she wiped at the lethally sharp blade.

"I would have you greet me again, if you sheath the blade."

The she-elf felt her heart turn over within her chest as she heard the soft tone of the voice of her beloved. Any thought at all of sending him away, even for his own good, vanished.

Blinking up at him, she frowned. "I cannot release you."

If her serious tone and expression gave him pause, it did not show. "I did not ask to be released. Nor would I." Kili told her gently, sensing that her emotions were rather raw at the moment. "He left."

Green eyes closed with sorrow for a moment, then she gave a short nod of her head. "He was my friend for a very long time."

"He could still heal." Kili tried to comfort her. "A friendship like that would be hard to let go."

Tauriel shook her head, and when she opened her eyes she put the subject of Legolas away. Focusing instead on the dark-haired dwarrow before her. "I am not strong enough to send you away."

Kili frowned at her, moving closer as he sat down next to her on the rough work bench. "Why would you want to? Do you doubt my feelings?"

"Never." Her smile was so sad it made him groan lightly and place his hand on her cheek. She turned into his touch gratefully.

"When you walked up to me, greeting me as you did this morn, with your cheek so near to mine. I don't know if I have ever been happier in my life. I cannot give words to how my heart sang in that moment."

"Do you awaken?"

Kili's mind blanked. He drew back with wide eyes, large melting pools of chocolate. His mouth gaped open and shut without sound for a moment then he started coughing roughly.

She reached for him and he jerked back, holding a hand up protectively in front of him as he caught his breath.

Finally able to breathe, the couple stared at each other, both unsure for different reasons. Kili broke the moment first, forcing a small chuckle as he shook his head, the bead she'd given him lightly tapping the side of his face. "Not really expecting that question. Sorry."

Tauriel frowned. "Did I ask incorrectly?"

Kili reached for her hand, capturing it with his own. "No. Yes. Maybe? It's a final step in courting. The dwarrow can tell a dam 'I need to press you for an answer' which is code that he is …er, waking up and she has to make a decision soon. Take him for husband or let him return to stone."

The red-head stared at him, as if waiting.

Kili flushed beet red, not answering her actual question, not yet. "A dam can ask if a dwarrow 'seeks an answer'."

"Do you …."

"Please." Dark eyes pleaded with her, shaking his head. He did not want to talk openly about the itching he'd been dealing with, nor his chats with Oin about how his mixed blood might be affecting this area of his life. It was embarrassing enough already.

Tauriel drew back as if hurt, making his breath catch. "Perhaps it is I who is lacking the ability to call you from stone."

These words made Kili blink rapidly as his mind was thrown off track once more. "What? That makes no sense."

"I do not look like the other dwarrowdams." She said starkly. "It was explained to me that when dwarrow fall in love, true love, they begin to come awake and if you are not … It could be that you don't find me physically attractive."

Kili's gaze narrowed on her for a long moment, shaking his head in denial.

"I'm too thin, I have freckles, there is no beard upon my face and my shape is lacking the need of support. I am too tall and …"

Kili stood and bowed hurriedly to her, leaving without a word. Tauriel gaped after him in shock. Though it was a matter of several minutes before she heard him returning.

"Give me your hand." He demanded without heat. Indeed, he reached for and took her hand without any movement on her part. He opened her palm and dropped several stones there.

The she-elf looked down and stared. Diamond. Ruby. Emerald. Topaz. And something covered in common, rough stone that might hold something crystalline. She brought her other hand forward and cupped the treasures she held. Looking up at Kili, the red-head waited for some kind of explanation.

"Choose one."

Tauriel looked down at the stones and felt utterly lost. She shook her head and glanced back up. "Why?"

"Just pick one."

The red-headed elf lass held up the ruby.

"Why that one?"

Tauriel sighed and shook her head. "I don't know."

Kili grinned darkly. "Is it the most beautiful? The biggest? The most valuable?"

"I said I do not know." Came the rather short response as green eyes narrowed on the young prince.

"Each person sees something different in the stones. But generally, everyone has a favorite. That ruby is flawed, by the way."

Tauriel held the ruby up between her fingers, trying to look at it in the light. "I do not see any flaws."

"Not a mistake of cutting, but simply the way the stone was when it grew in the earth." He stared at her for a long moment. "Do you want to trade it in for one of the other stones?"

The she-elf's mouth twisted and she caught the ruby in her free hand with a shake of her head. "No. It isn't a flaw, it's how the stone was meant to be."

"I love you. What you see as flaws in yourself, I count myself lucky to see in you. I would count your freckles every day of my life, which has been greatly extended, thank you." He sighed and gave her a lingering look. "Everything you think of as a lack, I think of as something beloved and perfect."

"What if I'd chosen a different stone?" Tauriel asked, putting the precious gems on the bench between them.

"I have wonderful arguments for each and every one of them." Kili said, flashing a brilliant grin. He sobered as he looked deeply into her green eyed gaze. "Tastes differ. I don't want anyone else. I will never want anyone else."

Her breath caught roughly as she read the deepness of his emotions within his eyes.

"Oin thinks it's because I'm too young." He shrugged as he kept staring at her. "As an elf. Maturity in that area for an elf is not for another twenty plus years for me."

Tauriel stared at him, as if barely daring to hope.

There was no hope for it, his eyes dropped as he made a huge confession. "I itch. Down, well, yeah. It's a sign of waking up for a dwarrow, but it's lasting too long in my case. Oin and Nuluin think it's my body trying to wake up too soon really."

The she-elf suddenly felt herself smile as she mentally recalled several times that her dark-haired love had adjusted himself in what he thought was privacy. "Itching?" Her smile grew.

"It's not funny." Groused the young prince. "Sometimes it even hurts."

Her smile never dimmed.

"Twenty years. Maybe less." Kili looked up at her with misery.

"Twenty years is nothing to an elf." Tauriel assured him. "And it will give rest to any rumors that we rushed into anything recklessly."

"It could be less." Kili groused, chafing at the restrictions his body was putting upon him. He peered at her, then chuckled. "No chaperone down here."

Tauriel's eyebrow rose as she smiled at him. "Am I supposed to be thinking Dwarven again?"

Kili groaned darkly and sighed. "Elves see kissing as a promise. So. If I promise you that I will always love you, then perhaps I can kiss you and it won't seem as …."

Whatever he'd been about to say fled from his mind forever, lost as she leaned over and took his lips with her own.

Wonder bloomed within him as he smiled against the softness of her lips. Two sets of eyes closed as they tasted one another leisurely, letting their lips make acquaintance.

When Kili stood and moved toward her, it did not separate the kiss. With she sitting on the work bench, and he in front of her, the touch strengthened. Deepened.

Work roughened hands cupped the sides of her face. Deliberately he caught the nashatal braid between two fingers, sightlessly wrapping it into his grasp as he cradled her face. His mouth opened in invitation.

A slight hesitation, then her tongue moved forward and touched his. Who moaned first could not be said. Her arms wrapped around his waist, holding him closer, one hand moving up to the back of his neck in a possessive caress.

He moaned again, drawing back to catch a breath and them moving back in before she could protest.

Her hand trailed down his back and then up again, pulling him even closer. Another long moan and a wince.

Tauriel drew back slightly, he followed and recaptured her lips, unwilling to let the moment end. She lost herself in the heat of the kiss, never having imagined such as this could ever exist outside of the great love poems.

He moaned and shifted his weight, catching her distracted attention. She tried to pull back again, blinking at him in confusion. "Kili?"

"No worries." He muttered, laying small kisses along the side of her jaw and luxuriating in the scent of her soft skin.

"You're hurting." She protested.

He shifted his weight again, his hips twitching slightly. "It's nothing."

Tauriel managed to pull back enough to look into his face. "I think not."

"It's only itching, ignore it. I do." The eager prince leaned forward again, even as she leaned back and shook her head.

"If I touched you there?"

Kili's eyes widened for a moment, then his body reacted and he nearly doubled over as the itching intensified exponentially at just the thought. "Damn."

"We need to get you to Oin."

"No." Kili protested, gritting his teeth. "It'll ease."

Tauriel reached out and trailed one hand down the side of his face to his chest and then to his hip. She stopped there, having demonstrated her point as Kili's eyes closed with the pain of the moment. "Damn." He repeated. "You're going to have to get Oin."

"The healing halls aren't that far."

"Don't think I can walk." Kili turned and sank down onto the rough work bench with a wince, stretching out one leg in front of him. He looked down at his lap. It hurt, and itched, and hurt some more. But nothing was moving or poking out. "Shit."

"Twenty years of this?" Tauriel asked, making Kili's face go pale with horror.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am woefully behind in replying to comments. It's just that this chapter kept demanding to be written and then I didn't want to delay posting it just to reply to everyone. I will catch up, promise!


	38. In which invitations are offered

"Again?" Oin rolled his eyes as he spied the youngest heir to Erebor's throne standing in the doorway to the healing halls. Although standing would have been an optimistic term, more like hunched over a bit. He sighed in resignation and gestured for the prince to come in.

Kili sheepishly tried to smile, though he was also having trouble keeping eye contact.

"Erebor will run out of outmeal soon if this keeps up." Nuluin commented dryly as he looked up from reading whatever it was that healers read.

Kili sighed and winced, his dark eyes pleading silently for help. He looked absolutely woebegone, and in pain.

Taking pity on the youth, Oin gruffly called Brunere in from the other room in order to draw up a hot bath while he got out the ingredients for the oatmeal and lavender mix that would help ease the intense itching. "You may have to stop seeing her for a while." He reached over, patting Kili awkwardly on the shoulder in commiseration.

Nuluin's mouth twitched with dry humor as he sat back in his chair. "It's worse than that. He hasn't seen her today. Tauriel is out with Dwalin and Bifur, patrolling."

The dwarven healer glanced at Kili's embarrassed and flushed face. "So. Just thinking about her is now causing this as well?" Oin made a slight face and shook his head at the youth.

The dark-haired prince winced and slipped carefully into a chair, trying not to cause his clothing to rub over him too much. He hissed to himself mostly and shrugged.

The two healers, elven and dwarven, shared a lengthy look. In the past two days they'd seen far too much of the young prince. Oin sighed heavily. They'd postulated that it might take twenty years for Kili's elven side to reconcile maturity with the dwarven side. While that had been funny only a couple of days ago, it was now simply sad.

Nuluin walked over to the elderly healer, putting down a piece of parchment. Whispering to the hard-of-hearing Oin was not an option. The dwarrow picked up the note, reading. " _He won't last twenty years._ "

"Agreed." Oin crumpled up the parchment and tossed it in the bin with a thoughtful look. "We're going to have to do something."

The only question was, what?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Erelinde slowly became aware that her fingers were off tempo. She frowned slightly, a crease forming between her brows as the muscles in her fingertips jumped at where they shouldn't. It wasn't until she stopped moving and sat there staring at the large runner of lacework that she realized the problem.

Music.

Someone was behind her, in the room, and they were playing a fiddle. Only the music tempo was all wrong for the piece she was working on. Erelinde's frown deepened as she listened. Fili, for who else would it be, was in a bad mood. She could tell this from the rushed notes and the pressure put upon the bow at the end of each measure.

Her initial frustration at being interrupted faded into worry as she continued to listen. Nothing was wrong with the sound, the music pouring forth was full of energy and flowed, but there was no joy. This wasn't like any of the other times Fili had come in and played for her. There was nothing sweet, nothing enticing, nothing beckoning.

He wasn't playing for her.

Erelinde glanced at the clock on the wall. She'd only been crafting for a short while. Maybe. The dwarrowdam rolled her neck, finding it stiff. Too stiff for only a few hours. Holding up her hands she sighed as she stretched them. "Is it still last night or is it tomorrow yet?"

The fiddler stopped in mid-measure, then drew his bow in a discordant note across the strings in an off-tune protest.

Erelinde turned her head and winced at the tight expression on Fili's face, the pinched look in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I got an idea for a piece after speaking with my friends and I wanted to get it laid out. Did we have plans?"

Fili blinked at her, still not answering directly. He did reposition the fiddle beneath his chin and this time drew two jarring notes that clashed unhappily.

"I know I haven't been to bed yet, but I promise I'll get some rest as soon as I finish …"

A sharp, high note pierced the room as Fili's blue eyes looked pointedly at her.

Erelinde straightened her shoulders, her generous mouth thinning as she pressed her lips together as her own temper uncurled within her. "You knew I was a crafter when you introduced yourself." She pointed out the obvious.

"If I just sit here and keep playing music will you stop long enough to eat some breakfast or lunch or dinner and take a short break?" Fili drew his bow across the lowest register string, making it shake and tremor like a roll of thunder. "I offer any of those meals, as you've missed them all. Some of them more than once. It's been nearly two days."

The pretty blonde dwarrowdam looked at him sprawled out in his chair looking like a storm cloud about to burst. She crossed her arms, ignoring the stiffness in her back. "You're angry." She guessed, a bit disappointed in herself for getting lost in her work again. But also a bit disappointed that he didn't understand.

His arm moved swiftly back and forth and it was as if the fiddle sang to her in a syrupy mockery. How he could make music sound sarcastic she couldn't begin to guess. Her face flushed hotly as she sighed. "I'd leave you to your anger, but you're in my crafting room."

The next sound emanating from the instrument in his hands was nothing less than a sigh, a barely there note that rose and fell with subtle movements of his body.

Erelinde stared at him as Fili lifted the bow and set the fiddle in his lap as he looked away. She caught her breath. "Has something happened? I heard no alarms." Flushing again she wondered if she'd been so preoccupied that she'd missed some new desolation.

"You don't have to give up crafting. You don't have to choose to allow yourself to be courted. But this is why your father was so worried about you becoming a True Crafter."

The white-blonde blushed and blinked, though she refused to look away. Hearing the stark worry in his voice made her pique fade away. Still he had to know, this crafting …this was who she was. "Are you seeking an answer?" She asked pointedly, though her voice was gentle as ever.

Fili shot her an unreadable look, his blue eyes usually so warm and teasing now cold. "No. I won't seek an answer from you until living life is more important to you than a piece of lace."

Erelinde's chin firmed. She was not a dam known for having a temper. Her voice did not rise, nor did her words sound sarcastic and cutting. The dam spoke simply and plainly. "If you dismiss my work as lesser, you dismiss me."

The blond crown prince stared at her for a long moment, then rolled his neck in an agitated motion. "That's not what I meant."

The dwarrowdam watched the male with concern. He wasn't acting himself. "What's really wrong?" It was more than the fact that she'd lost herself in her crafting. She was guessing though.

Fili's bow lifted and he waved it in the air as if it were an extension of his hand, swinging back and forth as if he were unsure of any answer he could give.

Erelinde rose and groaned as she stretched. Two days? It was starting to feel like it. "I need a bath, and food."

"Sleep." Fili commented dryly.

Sky blue eyes watched the dwarrow for a long moment, and then she came and knelt down beside his seat, ignoring her sore muscles as they protested strongly. "What's wrong?"

Fili turned his head to meet her gaze, and his softened at the concern he saw there. He took a deep, cleansing breath and shook his head. "Small things adding up." He reached out and gently tugged on one small braid of hers that had slipped the pins holding back her hair. He twirled it around his finger and gave a gentle tug. "I'm fine." He promised.

Erelinde had her doubts, but could see he was starting to lose some of that awful tension that had made him seem so brittle. She smiled when he smiled at her, relieved that whatever ill mood had been driving him seemed to be ebbing away. "I ran away from what bothered me."

Fili's mouth twitched and he gave her a slow blink of his blue eyes. "Are you warning me not to do like you did? Or inviting me to join you? It's an intriguing thought."

Her hand reached up and caught his, freeing her hair. But somehow her fingers got tangled up in his and she ended up holding his hand between both of hers. Looking up, she captured his gaze, then looked back at their joined hands. She spread his fingers, putting her palm against his larger one. "You would not do as I did, hiding yourself away. Isolating yourself. It's just …don't shut all the negative inside where it can poison you slowly."

"For someone who loses herself in crafting, how did you get to be so wise?" He teased, his voice deliberately lighter.

"My mother used to say that." Erelinde frowned, but found she could now talk about her mam without the crushing sorrow that had been so prevent back then. "Your mother is on her way to Erebor, right?"

Fili stared at her a moment, the crinkled his nose, turning that subject away. "Do you want to reconsider those three kisses? I really want them back. Not sure I can go on living without them."

Laughing, Erelinde drew back, shaking her head. "Foolish prince." Only she could only move so far, as his fingers tightened upon hers. "Ow." She said, though quietly and not out of any great pain.

Instantly he let her hand go. "What?"

"Your fingernail caught me." Erelinde looked over her finger, but found nothing more than a small red scrape mark. "No harm."

Fili held up his hand, frowning. "I was chopping wood earlier, must have broken a nail somewhere along the way. Sorry." He gave her a doleful look. "It's what I do when I'm trying to work off a temper."

The white-blonde crafter gave him a teasing look. "Your family never went wanting for firewood, did they?"

He chuckled and grimaced as he pushed himself up to standing before offering her a careful hand up. "Sometimes, I'm not usually an angry sort. It's just, the quest and all that happened during and after, I can't seem to relax back into myself again."

Erelinde gave him a sympathetic look. "You may not be able to do that. You may have to find a new normal. Before you were a prince in name only, following a dwarrow with a plan and not much more. Now you are the crown prince of one of the great Dwarven kingdoms. You have responsibilities that you've never had to shoulder before."

Blue eyes stared at her and suddenly he gave a rough, tumbling kind of laugh as he sighed and shook his head at her. "You look so sweet and craft-blind. But you see things so clearly sometimes." He leaned in close to her, almost as if about to steal her breath. "Kissing?"

Laughing she blew on his lips and pushed him away, though she was smiling. He took that for encouragement.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You've made splendid time!" Calbrinia remarked as she watched Dain Ironfoot escort the dwarrowdams into her father's sitting room. Her light brown eyes shone with welcoming warmth. She didn't balk at the dams he was being so polite to either, their braids showed them to be married matrons.

"I thank you for your gracious welcome." Dain bowed his head in a regal nod of respect and gratitude. "Your father is not home?"

"No." The battle-maiden acknowledged. "He is meeting with some of the town's leaders, but I have sent messages about your arrival. Indeed news of such an event may outstrip my messenger and my father could already be returning home in his haste to greet you."

Dain smiled widely and chuckled, remembering the fastidious looking Sigan and worried what the dwarrow would look like if actually hurrying toward anything.

"I have mulled wine warming, but there is ale and a rough meal that can be put before you if you are in need. The evening stew is not yet ready to serve." Calbrinia said apologetically.

"Having not expected this crowd for dinner, I would think not." The dark-haired dwarrowdam spoke up gently, her smile tired but encouraging. "Please do not trouble yourself for such as us."

Calbrinia bowed her head in thankfulness, though inwardly she disagreed. Serve the Ironfoot left-overs? No. The servants were already scrambling to put together a much finer feast than that. "It is no trouble, I assure you."

Dis watched as the lovely young dam moved off to get the ale and wine for her guests. "She seems competent."

Dain grinned, absently shaking some of the grime of the road off of his beard with distaste. "I agree." He paused a moment. "I had invited her to Erebor, to possibly meet a crown prince?"

Dis considered the question, liking what she'd seen of Calbrinia already. "Lovely child. I would hold no immediate objections. Her father's line?"

Dain shrugged, making a slight face. "Fussy, but with no stains upon the lineage that I am aware of."

The mother of the prince in question shrugged. "It's too early to say. But I do not object to her travelling to Erebor."

Hinnin, standing as he was over by the bookshelves, frowned. "I thought parents played no role in choosing a spouse in dwarrow society?"

Dain coughed, then laughed, waving off the comment even as Dis frowned sharply.

Ahriline, the wife of Gloin, couldn't help but look confused. What did the tall elf know of their dwarrow ways? Still, it wasn't in her to be rude. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, not sure how to respond.

The Ironfoot had no such reservations. "Technically not. But that doesn't stop parents from offering suggestions."

Hearing the friendly way that Dain and the elf spoke wasn't new to Ahriline. She'd heard them around the fires at night as they spoke with each other. Still, she'd not yet brought herself to speak with the elf warrior. It didn't help that Dis couldn't seem to stand the male either. But then, Dis had history with the elves that still boggled Ahriline's mind. "Strong suggestions." She said in an almost-whisper.

Hinnin turned and gave the dwarrowdam a swift glance, though she was looking in the opposite direction. However, it was a tentative opening. "I did not catch that." He said quietly, lying.

Ahriline cleared her throat and then spoke a bit louder. "Strong suggestions. Parents can be quite vocal about whom their children wed, or don't."

"It doesn't change the outcome, not always anyway." Dain shrugged, missing the small byplay completely. "Anyone would be lucky if Calbrinia allowed them to court her."

Dis nodded, ignoring Ahriline's comments to the elf just as she usually ignored him. Only Hinnin seemed to catch a slight tone in the Ironfist's voice, one that the dwarrow himself might not be aware of.

"Yes. Anyone would be so lucky." Hinnin said smoothly, but his eyes were on Dain and no other.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

It was a rare moment. Thorin checked his mental daily diary and found he had, nothing. A meeting had been rescheduled, Dwalin was out on patrol. Balin was with the miners.

Kingship.

He'd often enough heard Men complain about how hard they worked and how easy their ruler or steward had things. If only they really knew or understood.

Smaug. The dragon had claimed to be King Under the Mountain, but he'd only taken over the mountain and used it to sleep within. He'd not ruled. He'd never worried about those beneath him, those that counted on him. The dragon had never cared for aught but the dragon himself.

Thorin sighed and looked out over the mounds of gold. He wasn't standing in the rich nest the dragon had gathered around him. No, every copper bit and golden piece had been catalogued and stored properly within the treasury.

Thorin had stayed away from that endeavor out of necessity. But …there was something he needed to test. Something he needed to know.

The King Under the Mountain hesitated. From fear. He who had rushed out of his stronghold in order to die gloriously, pitting his strength against an army of evil, was afraid. It wasn't then that terror had swamped his senses, it was now.

Slowly, achingly slowly, he placed one foot in front of the other until he stood within the newly restored treasury. His eyes had been closed. Licking his lips, he spread his arms and opened his eyes.

Gold.

Everywhere there was the gleam of something precious. Gold, mithril, silver, jewels, it mattered not. If it was costly and mined from the earth it resided here. And it was his.

Thorin's lungs started to protest and he drew in a sharp breath, feeling the sweat on his brow from desperation and not temperature. Breathing shallowly, he dropped his arms and turned in a circle. When he faced the door he'd entered from, he stopped. It wasn't empty.

Galadriel stared at him, and he at her.

It didn't matter that she didn't belong here. That no non-dwarf was allowed this deep into the very private vaults of the dwarrow. Somehow none of that mattered. Thorin blinked his eyes at her. "Well?"

Galadriel slid her eyes over the vast wealth of the dwarves, then returned her gaze to their king. She tilted her head gently to the side. "How do you feel?"

Terrified. Though he'd never admit that aloud. Anxious. Hm. That answer wasn't much better. "I'm fine." He snapped.

"Yes. You are."

That answer gave him pause. Was she guessing what was in his mind, or reading his thoughts? "My head is mine own to manage."

Galadriel tilted her head forward in acknowledgement, though her eye contact with him never broke. "Do you still feel yourself?"

Her gently spoken question made him realize that while he could hear the call of his gold, it wasn't pulling at him like it had before. "Will I stay myself?" He asked, suddenly desperate.

"None can say, for none face what you face. Each of us has our tests to pass." The Lady said quietly.

"Even you?" He challenged almost belligerently.

"Yes."

"You will pass." Thorin's voice sounded almost bitter as he cast his eyes around the gold that had once led him to turn his back on all that really mattered.

"I failed twice. A third time will come, if I do not pass then I will be lost."

The dwarven king spun to stare at her, but his tongue stilled within his mouth. From the look in her eyes, it was clear he'd have no further answers on that particular subject. Instead, he sniffed and gave her a wry smile. "And when you do pass?" When. Not if. It was all the support he was able to offer the elven leader.

Galadriel caught his implication and nodded in gratitude. "You have passed your test, what now will you do?"

Of course he noticed she hadn't actually answered the question, but he let it go. "I passed today, this moment. What of tomorrow? Next week? Next year?"

The Lady of Light smiled with genuine warmth and the king fought not to fidget beneath her gaze. He lifted his chin in mute challenge. Her smile grew. "Do not focus on passing this test next week or even next year. Not even today. Simply, you pass for now. This moment."

"And each moment builds on the next." Thorin sighed heavily. "You quote Durin."

"Or he quotes Cirdan, or perhaps the Shipwright quoted Durin, who can say?"

"You." He pointed out, obliquely referring to her great age.

Galadriel laughed with delight and shook her head. "Years I might have lived, many of them, but I was not in all places nor hearing all things spoken."

Thorin actually found himself smiling, though he wasn't quite sure why. "Was there a particular reason you penetrated so deeply within my mountain? Traipsing where you want, rather than were allowed?"

Galadriel's lips twitched in amusement for a moment, and he wasn't sure she was going to answer him. Though, after a moment or two of contemplation, she nodded. "Kuilaith needs you."

Thorin drew back in surprise. "And yet you would have taken him from us if Fili hadn't intervened."

"A mistake it would have been." Allowed the Lady of the Wood.

She said it so simply, as if the mistake wouldn't have been huge nor caused massive repercussions. Thorin sighed heavily. Elves. "Oin has spoken with me. There is little that can be done. Nuluin doesn't know what to do either, and he's the best healer you have. There is a potion that may help, or it could hurt the lad worse."

"The best healer is Lord Elrond. And the wisest we have left in Arda is perhaps Cirdan."

Thorin's sapphire gaze sharpened and his mouth tightened. "You ask to invite them here? Lord Elrond was already within these walls once."

"Kuilaith will find no barriers within my heart, and it will be good for them to be here to assist with any problems the lad might have." Galadriel looked sad for a moment. "But they come for another reason. I have called for a full meeting of the White Council."

Thorin smirked lightly. "You have already done this. Seeking my permission seems a little late in the game."

"Permission?" She paused as if playing with the word, finally she shook her head. "No. I seek to invite you."

"To the meeting?" Thorin sounded surprised.

"No." Galadriel smiled at him, looking deeply into his eyes. "To join the Council."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"What does it feel like?"

Kili cracked open one eye and stared balefully at his older sibling. "Like the fires of Mt. Doom." He replied with false casualness.

Fili chuckled, sitting next to his brother as the young brunet soaked in the oatmeal bath. "Does it poke out?"

The dark-haired prince grimaced and shifted within the tub. He refused to answer, glowering. "Does yours?"

"Not yet." Fili shook his head. "If she'd ever kiss me it might help. But I'm in no hurry."

"Kissing is good, great actually." Kili grinned, then sighed and made a face of discomfort. "Don't talk about kissing, please." He begged, shifting his legs within the bath once again.

Fili laughed, though he did wince in sympathy. "Sorry."

"Fine. No hurry. Why not? Thought you were gone over the moon about Erelinde." Kili commented a bit darkly.

The blond prince shrugged. "Wake up too soon and I have to press for an answer. It's too soon. Right now she'd turn me down and I'd have to return to stone. So. It's not like with you, Tauriel has already accepted you, looks to marry you. Foolish elf-lass."

Kili splashed some of his bath water at his brother in a half-hearted gesture of protest. "So. We're at odds. I need to wake up soon or I'll die and you can't wake up too soon."

Fili grinned and then shook his head. "Oin pulled me aside, there's some potions that can help me keep my state of stone. I don't need it yet, but he's promised to help."

Stricken, Kili stared. "I asked him for whatever potion the Blacklocks tried to use on Uncle Thorin and he refused."

Fili ducked his head and shrugged. "The healers aren't sure it'll work on you."

"It'll wake me up!" Kili sat up in his bath, his eyes looking almost feverish. "I need it!"

"And if it wakes up the dwarrow side of you further, but your body still doesn't react properly? Will you be left in ten times more pain, or twenty times?"

Both princes looked up as Elrohir walked into the room carrying towels. He smiled sadly at the duo in greeting. "There are concerns."

Kili slumped back down into his bath. "It's getting cooler."

Elrohir put down the towels and walked over to the hearth fire, he used the padded gloves the dwarves used when working forge flames and brought over the steaming kettle of hot water.

Kili hissed with sharp pleasure as his elven uncle poured the hot water into the end of the bath near his feet.

"You're going to turn into a prune." Teased Fili.

Frowning, the dark-haired prince closed his eyes and settled deeper into his bath. Long fingers brushed his hair, caught back into a high tail to keep it out of the water, from around his face.

Fili watched the soft touch of the elf and felt a pang of sharp regret. Where had touches like that been when Kili had been smaller? When they'd been lads of almost twenty Kili had slid down a rough river bank that had been dry. He'd landed wrong and Fili had been forced to carry him on his back home to their cabin. The younger sibling had been miserable for the three days that he'd been forced to be immobile. In fact, their mam had tried to keep him with the foot elevated for a week. Three days was all anyone could manage to keep Kili still.

Could the elves have managed better, or would there just have been more people around for Kili to drive mad? What if. What if? Fili sighed and pushed those thoughts away as useless. The past was finished and all they were left with is trying to figure out where to go from here.

"Could the Lady help?" Kili whispered, his eyes still closed. Fili looked up at the elf.

Elrohir's lips moved slightly and then he gave an almost-smile. "I thought you forbade anyone from bringing up such a subject to her?"

Kili moaned and sank deeper into the water. It was a sign of how much the burning itch was bothering him that he'd even broached the subject of Galadriel in the same conversation about his privates. "She knows. She know everything. Don't deny it."

Elrohir's lips turned up in a true smile as he chuckled. "I would never wager on what my mother's mother knows or doesn't. She has said nothing to me or your father on the subject."

The door to the healing hall opened again and Bofur stuck in his head, looking around hopefully.

Fili pointed toward the next room and Bofur tilted his hat in the prince's direction. "All is well?"

"All is well." Bofur bobbed his head before retreating, though before he shut the door he stopped and leaned back inside. "King Thorin is having more guest quarters cleaned, scrubbed really. Any word on arrivals?"

Fili frowned. Dis. They were talking about his mam and the Ironfoot. Only the rooms for them were already prepared, had been for weeks really. No one knew when to expect them, but they were all ready. So who else could be coming? He shrugged.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman politely placed a bookmark in the large tome he'd borrowed from the dwarven library. It was nothing new, really. A history of the elf leader Orodreth and his disastrous demise at the Battle of Tumhalad. Still it was interesting. All he'd ever read on the subject had come from the elves. This history was from the eyes of the dwarves. They weren't as kind to Orodreth and his missteps than the elves.

"My Lord Celeborn."

The silver haired leader from Lothlorien bowed in greeting to the wizard. "There comes a calling."

Saruman's left eyebrow rose in query.

"The White Council." Celeborn chose a seat opposite the wizard, joining him without invitation. "After the resurrection of Mordor, it would only be expected.

"Of course." Saruman's voice said, his voice smoother than satin. "Imladris or Lothlorien?"

"Here."

The wizard hesitated for only a second, then nodded. "The Lady does not wish to leave her newly discovered kin?"

Celeborn looked up and Saruman paused, had he managed to keep the mockery from his voice? "It is more than that."

"Oh?"

The elf lord nodded and picked through his words in order to make clear his point. "Erebor was the focus of much of Mordor's recent attention. This mountain, this kingdom, we were wrong to leave it in dragon hands for so long. If we'd known of Sauron's return, our decisions would have been far different."

Saruman fought the urge to snap at the elf. Celeborn was counted among the wise, yet he had proved just as easy to delude as the rest of the council. Except for him. Or course. "I hardly think Erebor is that strategically important."

"Mordor sees it as such." Celeborn said in a soft, almost monotone voice.

The White Wizard looked up, but the elven leader was plucking a stray string from the cuff of his sleeve. Not looking in his direction. "The more important issue is to locate the One Ring."

At that statement, Lord Celeborn did look up. His enigmatic eyes met those of the leader of the wizard, and it was the elf that nodded first. "Possible. Though a difficult task." He hesitated. "And if we search, our search could help narrow that of Mordor and its leader."

"A concern, certainly." Saruman dipped his head, acknowledging the warning. "Yet, the finding of the One Ring could be our only hope of withstanding Sauron. And as such. Is Erebor secure enough for such a meeting of the White Council?"

Celeborn's eyes showed nothing of his thoughts. Though it seemed as if the elf considered his words most carefully before speaking. "You think there is a source of information within this mountain leading toward our enemy?"

Saruman leaned back in his chair in a studied pose of calm consideration. "I think it highly probable. The kingdom is far from secure. And it is a mountain of dwarves. Such have sided with the Dark Lord in the past."

"A few. So have elves so succumbed." Celeborn shrugged. "Of us all, only the wizards have remained undarkened."

This last sentence made Saruman reconsider his response. He wondered, was he suspected? "All are susceptible to the dark and the lies of the Deceiver. Even wizards. I have not heard from several of my order in quite some time. Both of the Blues, and Radagast the Brown."

Celeborn took the small piece of string between two elegant fingers and rolled it into a small ball, flicking it accurately into the fire lighting the room. He looked pointedly at Saruman. "Neither of the Blue wizards are a part of the White Council."

"And Radagast is a fool. I do not see the point in trying to locate him and issue an invitation when all he speaks on his animals and the flora." Saruman said dismissively.

"Gandalf has sent word. He and Radagast are on their way."

This surprised Saruman, though he took great pains to hide that from his expression. He nodded. "Very well. I assume that Lord Elrond is on a return trip?"

"As we speak." Celeborn allowed with a regal nod of his head that put Saruman's teeth on edge. "The ravens that my wife sent to Cirdan found him sooner than expected. He had already begun a journey here to Erebor."

"He ever was wise." Saruman said feeling empty. Cirdan the Shipwright? Already coming? Had he missed anything? No. No. The elf was coming in response to Mordor's rising, that was all.

"You are here. Galadriel and Glorfindel as well." Celeborn continued. "It is only fitting that the meeting will be held here in Erebor."

Saruman nodded, having little choice in the matter.

After a moment of silence, the silver-haired elf continued. "The Lady has invited King Thorin."

The White Wizard did not appear surprised. "It is his kingdom."

"To join the White Council."

Stunned, Saruman stared at the elven leader. "That hardly seems the best idea. A dwarf?"

Celeborn nodded thoughtfully. "And was it not an alliance of Men, Elves and Dwarves that defeated Sauron in the first place?"

The wizard nearly swallowed his tongue as he shook his head. "So, she's offered a place on the Council to Gondor's Steward? Rohan's King? Or perhaps she has managed to locate the heir to the throne of Men?"

The elf ignored the wizard's rather sharp tongue, and did not rise to the bait about the missing heir of Isildur. Very few knew of the lad's presence in Rivendell. He'd questioned his own wife's decision to keep that information only to the elves …and Gandalf. Now, he wasn't so sure. With the return of Sauron, all things once held secure needed to be reexamined. He himself had no doubts about the leader of the wizard order, however, the fewer that knew of the heir's whereabouts, the better.

"Bard the Bowman." Saruman spat out the name as if in jest, then his gaze sharpened as Celeborn gave a curt nod of his head. "Why in the world would you invite a common soldier and jumpstart king over the established cities of Men?"

Celeborn shrugged. "Because he is new, he is unknown and doubtful has Mordor yet had a chance to sink their teeth into him. My Lady Wife has seen a shadow grow cold over Rohan, the meaning of her vision is unclear but worrisome. As for the Steward of Gondor." Here the elf twisted his mouth in clear disdain.

Saruman mentally howled, though outwardly he gave off no reaction. Ecthelion II wasn't exactly living in the pocket of Sauron, but there where those close to him that had been heavily influenced. King Bard of Dale, as he was now known, wasn't so encumbered, not yet. "You are …wise." The wizard did not argue the point, if he did it might seem suspicious.

"King Thranduil?"

Here Celeborn wavered. Saruman studied the elf's face carefully. "He has not been invited?" He probed.

"Yet." The silver-haired leader allowed with a dry look and a slight frown. "It is a matter not yet decided."

Saruman sat back, things were moving quickly, and he'd have to stay on top of matters. He steepled his fingers and listened to Celeborn speak, even as he started to formulate plans.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili opened the door to his room, looking up. "Elladan." A beat went by. "Father."

The tall elf bowed, closing his eyes with his hand over his heart. If he'd hoped the lad would greet him more familiarly, it was not something he'd really expected. "Kuilaith."

The dark-haired prince stepped aside as the elf who'd sired him entered. Elladan looked around and then calmly removed a pair of socks from one of the chairs so that he could sit.

Kili took the socks from him and tossed them negligently on the bed. "Those are clean."

Elladan doubted it, but didn't press the issue.

"Are you feeling any better?" Kili asked, pointing at his head to indicate the elf's recent injury.

"No more headache." The gray-eyed elf conceded gratefully. "You?"

"Scrapes mostly." Kili sounded awkwardly friendly, not forced, but not easy either. "I am sorry for what happened."

"It wasn't your fault." Elladan pointed out quickly. "Earth Movers. I was there."

Kili licked his lips and sighed, rolling his head to let go some of the tension. "I'm sorry that it happened, not that I'm taking the blame."

"Of course." Elladan sighed, feeling just as awkward as Kuilaith was sounding. He held up a deck of playing cards. "It seems you're fond of betting."

Kili eyed the deck warily. "What did you have in mind?"

"We play for points. Every tenth point you get a free question. Anything. No barriers, no hiding, only truth."

The dark-eyed prince bared his teeth in a friendly snarl. "Sneaky. You want me to learn more about you."

"And I want to learn more about you, but some questions are hard to ask or bring up in casual conversation." The elf pointed out.

Kili laughed outright, throwing back his head for a moment before shrugging helplessly. "What questions could possibly be so hard to ask? You brought up the subject of my virginity …in the hallways!"

Elladan had the grace to bow his head and offer apology. "It was extremely important." He'd had to know if his son had married someone and hadn't even known it.

"What's your first question?" Kili demanded.

"Did you call me da down in that crevice?" The elf asked. "Did your mam teach you to hate elves? Why did you pick up a bow? What do you see when you look at the stars?" He stared at his son for a long moment, then added one more question. "Could you learn to forgive me?"

Kili blinked rapidly, forced to look away from his father's gaze. He took a deep breath and then looked down at his feet. "Do you hate my mam? Why did she leave you? Did you ever love her? What do you really see when you look at me?" Now he paused, quite deliberately. He looked up and caught his father's gaze. "Why are you against my marrying Tauriel?"

Elladan held up the cards and handed them to his son. "Deal."


	39. In which there are questions and answers

"Double."

Elladan peered over at his son through dark lashes, weighing the moment. He glanced down at his card hand. "Are you sure about that?"

Kili stared back at him, unafraid and unrepentant. "Double." He insisted. Then the brunet dwarrow raised one eyebrow as if daring the elf to forge forward.

The elf father ran his thumb over the cards, deliberately making them sound crisply in the otherwise quiet of the chamber. "Redouble."

Dark eyes blinked slowly with deliberation. Kili didn't even look down at his hand before he nodded. "First question to me." He laid his cards down without even a glance, his stare for his father alone.

Elladan looked at the hand on the table, then nodded slowly. He put his cards down on the table, faces down. "To you." The elf agreed.

Kili finally let his gaze drop to the cards before them both. He smiled darkly. "First question. Da."

The elf watched, waiting.

"Did you let me win that hand?" Kili challenged directly.

An elegantly arched eyebrow rose over gray eyes as the elf considered his options. Slowly he reached over and flipped the bottom card, bringing all the others with it. Both father and son looked down to see a hand that easily outstripped Kili's.

The dark-eyed prince sighed and shook his head, Tauriel's nashatal bead catching the light as he moved. "This only works with honesty. First question to you."

"Who taught you to hate and distrust elves?"

Laughing without humor, Kili nodded as he leaned back in his seat. He watched his father for a long moment. "Every dwarrow I've ever met."

Elladan cocked his head to the side, giving his child an arch look. "Now who's not being honest?"

"That's the plain truth." Kili wiped a hand over his mouth, shrugging. "But if you must have specifics, it's every dwarrow who survived Erebor's desolation by the dragon. And every one of those who didn't survive. We could hear those voices too."

Hearing the hardness in his son's voice, Elladan nodded.

"Thorin. Mam. Dwalin. Balin. You know, you've met them all." Kili paused. "Oh, and every dwarrow who had relatives affected by Smaug as well."

"Every dwarrow then."

Kili nodded, pulling the cards in to shuffle them. In silence he dealt the next hand.

Elladan picked up his cards, quirked up his lips and sighed. "Next question."

"Hey!" Kili protested, waving a palm over his hand of cards. "I haven't even looked."

The elf fanned out his hand and laid his cards down. "Who taught you to shuffle?" Elladan teased dryly.

The dark-eyed dwarf stared bug-eyed at the perfect hand and cursed roundly. In Sindarin.

Elladan's eyes widened and he nearly choked for a second, taking a steadying breath to gather himself. "I would ask who taught you that, but I recognize my brother's inflection in there somewhere. So I'll ask another question instead." He paused a moment, then thinned his lips as if hesitating. "Do you hold me responsible for the actions of the elves of the Mirkwood?"

Kili stared, holding his breath. Finally he turned over his cards, looking down at them desperately. "Damn." He'd lost, by the rules he had to answer and answer honestly.

Quiet fell between the two. Finally the elf leaned forward and gave a polite cough.

Kili's face scrunched up. "Don't rush me."

"If the answer were no, you'd have already answered." Elladan said with sorrow.

"Don't. I hadn't even thought about this one." Kili waved one hand in irritation. He looked down at his losing hand again, as if trying to glean some inspiration. "I …don't think so. Maybe. Maybe not. You are an elf."

Elladan leaned forward as if to speak.

"If you say I'm an elf too, I'm going to break this table in half." Kili warned with a quiet voice that was no less a threat than if it had been shouted. "And yes, I know you weren't there and neither was any elf from Rivendell."

"Tauriel."

Kili sighed very unhappily and shoved his cards over toward the gray-eyed elf. "For that you need to win again."

"I'm very good at this game." Elladan commented coolly. "Trade. Question for question."

Kili eyed the tall elf, weighing the need for competition versus the desire to start seeking his own answers. "Why did you agree to marry my mam?"

The elf warrior sighed heavily, his eyes sad as he watched his child stare at him. He curled his lips and shook his head as if denying something. Finally he took a deep breath. "To shut them up." He admitted.

Surprised, and yet not, the dark-eyed prince nodded. "Them. Your family, Saruman, everyone?"

"Indeed."

"Your brother."

"Especially." Elladan admitted roughly. "I wanted to die. It was …a very difficult time." He said, understating his utter depression back then.

Kili nodded grimly, trying to picture it all in his mind as a perfunctory knock sounded on his door. Fili poked his head in and caught sight of the duo staring hard at each other.

The crown prince stilled, unsure of the situation. "Brother?"

"Question and answer time." Kili did not look away from Elladan, meeting his gaze head on. "His turn."

"Why did you first pick up a bow?"

"To eat." Kili drawled. "We were hungry."

Fili made a distressed sound, looking hopefully back out into the hallway.

"Where was Thorin?" Elladan asked, his brow furrowed with anger.

"No. It's my turn." Kili slid his eyes toward his brother. "Are you coming in or playing coward? He's your second-father."

"Oh by the Axe and Blood." Fili grumbled under his breath as he stoically entered the room, shutting the door behind him.

Elladan shifted in his seat, drawing both sets of dwarvish eyes upon him.

"I suppose you think this is unfair?" Kili asked.

"Yes." The elf said calmly. "Now it's my turn."

Fili smirked as his younger sibling cursed under his breath having been caught out. "Call for your brother. Two sets of brothers. That's fair."

"I cannot mind-speak without being in line of sight." The elf protested. "My twin might pick up on distress or that I need him, but not where I am or what is required."

Fili nodded and opened the door again, leaning out and letting loose a shrill whistle. A dwarrow guard called out to him and he ordered that Elrohir be summoned.

Once the door was closed again, Elladan nodded. "It's still my turn." He waited for Kili to wave at him before continuing. "Where was Thorin when you two were going hungry?"

"Trying to keep all the exiles in Ered Luin from starving. Trying to keep all of us together, sound and whole. He was ruling, even without the crown." The brunet said with great pride.

"We had some food. But it was stretched thin as Thorin worked to make sure that everyone had a share, no matter how small. Kili and I hunted for provisions." Fili explained in a softer tone than his younger brother. "I was a fair hand at trapping rabbits."

Elladan nodded unhappily, thinking of the plentiful tables within Rivendell and mourning his ignorance back then.

"That healer from the Mirkwood, the one who insulted me and Fili?" The dark-eyed prince leaned forward intently. "Have you ever uttered that slur against dwarves yourself?"

Gray eyes closed for a pained moment, then the elf nodded, once. "Not to a dwarf in person."

"Do you think that changes anything?"

"Do you?" Elladan challenged. "What invectives and slurs have you two leveled at elves within your lifetimes?"

Fili coughed and shook his head, nudging his sibling rather heavily. "Don't. We're all at fault on this one."

Another knock on the door, though unlike Fili, Elrohir actually waited for an invitation to come inside before entering. The elvish uncle looked back and forth between all three very serious expressions, his eyebrows raising. Elladan gestured for his twin to find a seat.

"Did you ever love my mam?"

The question caught Elrohir by surprise while he was in the process of sitting and he stalled, frozen in a half-way position. If the question shocked him, so too did the response.

"No. Never. Nor did she love me."

Elrohir sighed and finished sitting, staying quiet as he listened to his brother.

Elladan nodded at Kili. "Absolute truth. I married her to quiet everyone down and waited to die. She married me out of loyalty I suppose, to her father and grandfather." He took a breath, and then asked his next question. "What did your mam tell you of your father?"

Kili drew back, shaking his head as he responded. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Fili hissed slightly and nodded. "We overhead once that you, as in someone unknown, was still alive. Maybe. Kili thought you, as in his father, left because he wasn't good enough."

The brunet dwarrow turned hard eyes onto his own brother for that admission. The blond prince shrugged. "Truth."

"He asked what mam told ME. Which was absolutely nothing." Kili bit out the words precisely. "Not what we gleaned or speculated."

Fili sighed with sorrow and dropped his head and gaze. "Truth." He avowed. "Pure true." He didn't sound terribly happy though.

Kili eyed his older brother carefully, then turned a speculative look upon his father. Elladan drew up, knowing that whatever his son asked next he wasn't going to enjoy answering. "Did you ever love Fili?"

Silence fell over the foursome, while one in particular held his breath.

"No."

Fili's blue eyes dropped even as he closed them. He'd thought as such, though it surprised him a bit at how much it hurt to hear it be spoken aloud.

"But Elrohir did." The elf continued, his eyes almost burning in intensity. He turned his gaze on Fili, whose blue eyes opened wide, turning onto the elf mentioned.

Identical gray sets of eyes slid toward each other all without a movement of either head. To both dwarven brothers it was a surprise to see Elrohir's gaze drop first.

Elladan looked back at Fili intently. "I resented you."

The blond dwarrow frowned slightly as he waited, he was not disappointed as the explanation continued.

"I was waiting to die. Wallowing in my pain and guilt. And you were …" Kili's father grimaced and pulled a mild face as he sighed. "Nothing but life. You wouldn't let me just be. Not that you were trying to pull me back into living. You were …just you."

"How so?" It was Kili who whispered the question.

A small, saddened smile graced the elvish father's face as he pulled up painful memories. "Fili was …"

"Irresistible." Elrohir supplied, then shrugged. "Adorable."

"Being himself." Elladan continued as Kili offered a weak smile of encouragement while Fili just listened. "Banging me on the knees with his pretend sword. Telling me stories of his real father and how I did not measure up. Running Dis ragged." He slid a chagrined look over toward his twin again. "With two grieving parents, it was Elrohir who took the brunt of things."

"I heard about the jammy fingers in your hair." Fili said rather hoarsely, looking at the twin brother.

Elrohir nodded slowly, no sign of a frown.

"Without you doing anything but being a charming and capricious dwarfling, you were doing what no one in my family could." Elladan leaned forward, pinning Fili with a look. "Then came the day you actually made me laugh."

Fili's eyebrows rose in question.

"You were struggling with learning words and letters in the Common tongue." The elvish father continued. "Except you shouldn't have been. You'd been knowing them cold, reciting them all week without a problem. You just were being a child and wanting someone to play off of, saying things like 'you say it' and 'you do it now'."

Elrohir nodded as he listened. "I remember. It was the letter 'N' and you were trying to get him to associate it with the words that began with that letter."

"I got a bit exasperated and asked you finally how 'nuts' began." Elladan sighed. "You looked right at me and grinned from ear to ear and answered …. 'trees'." He spread his hands and shook his head. "A small thing. But your cocky grin, even at four, and with the knowledge that you'd gotten me …made me … laugh. A small one, but I could not help myself."

"I remember." Elrohir murmured, closing his eyes to the scenes within his mind. "It sounded like a rusty hinge."

"That was when I knew I was becoming fond of you, Fili. And that scared me."

"Because you wanted to die." Kili guessed. His father answered with a shake of the head.

"No. It was because I knew then that I wasn't going to die. But that someday very soon, Fili would. He is dwarrow. Through and through. Mortal. And the fonder I grew of him, the more it would hurt when he did."

"Oh by …" Fili started.

"the Axe …" Kili continued in sync with his sibling.

"and Blood." They both finished together.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

King Thranduil sat redolently on his throne, his long legs crossed as he held his half-empty glass of wine negligently. He tilted his head to the side and squinted. "Odd company." He said in an off-hand manner.

Dwalin scowled while Tauriel stood unmoved and showing no emotion. Glorfindel smiled and spread his hands as if to show they were empty of all weapons.

"Does she seek to return on her own, is King Thorin muling her out here under escort, or do you need an interpreter?" Thranduil turned his amused eyes on the golden haired elf. "Since you seem to speak more with dwarves these days than you do your own kind."

Dwalin's scowl deepened, while Tauriel remained motionless, her line of sight below that of the king's gaze.

"We bring a message." Glorfindel said in a soft, soothing tone. "A courtesy."

"Courtesy?" The handsome elvish king sat forward suddenly in a graceful move that still managed to denote sheathed power. He held out his glass and one of his servants took it from him. Thranduil shut his eyes and sighed. "No. I wanted it filled, not gone."

The servant flushed and did as requested.

Thranduil waited until the glass was back in his hand. "New positions around here. We lost a few during the recent battles." He paused. "No captains though, so no vacancies there."

Tauriel would never have dared before, but she was no longer his to command. "I seek no such place."

About to sip his wine, Thranduil paused with the glass at his lips. His eyes narrowed upon his former ward. "My son is no longer here. He travels."

Tauriel's head bowed. She knew that, but was unsure of the king's mood on the subject and chose to remain silent.

The elvish king stared at her, as if wanting to ask but not wanting to appear to need to ask. Finally he took a deep, cleansing breath. "Deliver your message."

"There will be a calling of the full White Council at Erebor." Glorfindel said smoothly.

Thranduil managed to take a sip of his wine this time, waiting before answering. "I have turned down the invitation to join this White Council before."

"More than once." The golden haired ancient warrior pointed out.

"Yes. More than once." The elvish king nodded his head regally. "Do you seek to invite me again?"

"No." Glorfindel said quietly. "The Lady informed you the last time that the invitation to you was ever open. It remains so."

Thranduil nodded, waving one hand in the air in a vague manner. "And what makes you think I've changed my mind on the subject? That Sauron is back and Mordor eyes my kingdom?"

Dwalin growled, clenching his teeth. "Yes." The word was a rough rumble and barely recognizable.

"The inhabitants, and the ruler, of the Great Greenwood do not answer to the Valar. Nor her servants in Imladris and Lothlorien or anywhere else." Thranduil's voice turned chilly.

Tauriel's chin lifted, though her eyes did not rise.

"You have something to add, former captain?" The tone was sarcasm itself.

"Only personal opinion." The she-elf said in a respectful manner. Thranduil might no longer be her king, but a life-time of habit was not easily discarded.

The elvish king laughed mockingly and waved at her. "You rarely held back your opinion when you were mine, why should you begin now?"

"I only spoke as invited." Tauriel said, again quietly. And again she did not add 'sire' to the end of her words.

"And if I invite you to do so now?" Thranduil called down to her from his lofty throne.

"Do you?" She asked.

He laughed. "No."

"Mordor is awake and looking your way. Our way. We are stronger together than we are separately!" Dwalin could hold back no longer. "Are you so blind?"

"Not blind enough to realize my son is no longer within my home." Came the immediate response as the king rolled smoothly to his feet, stalking toward his kingdom's visitors. He stopped in front of Tauriel, staring down at the top of her head. "Why do they send me you?"

"Familiarity perhaps?"

Thranduil smirked, walking over to Glorfindel and dismissing the she-elf from the conversation entirely with a casual wave of his hand. "Then Galadriel is not as familiar with me as she thinks, if she believes you or the dwarf have any sway over me." He stopped to eye the ancient hero, who did not lower his gaze. "And you?"

"I am a member of the White Council. This is a show of respect."

Thranduil snorted derisively, turning as if to dismiss them all.

"King Thorin and King Bard have been invited." Glorfindel paused, then deliberately added the next line. "To join the council. They accepted."

The elvish king stilled nearly mid-step, turning gracefully though his surprise was still evident. "Oh?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"What made you decide to ride across Middle Earth in order to find me?" Kili asked, rocking back precariously in his chair.

"You are my son." Elladan began.

Kili sat forward quickly, his chair making a barking noise on the stone floor as he did so. "Possession?"

"Blood. Family." The tall elf continued. "Stolen."

"You can only steal possessions." Fili pointed out.

Elrohir shook his head. "The orcs stole our mother, and then stole Bainnid's life. We have had too much stolen from us, and none of them were possessions."

"You had a home stolen, you should understand better than that." Elladan chided gently.

Kili scowled and exchanged a disgruntled look with his brother. Fili nodded in concession to that point. "Yet you didn't ride after me."

"No." Elladan admitted slowly. "You are an adult. A full dwarf."

"One you never tried to find, write or see again." Fili pointed out angrily in spite of himself.

Kili nodded, then stilled as he saw an odd expression chase over his uncle's face. His dark-eyes widened. "Did you ever try such?"

"No." Elladan shook his head. "I did not feel I had the right. You were your mother's son."

Elrohir did not answer. Kili reached over and shoved Fili's shoulder, drawing the blond's attention toward their elvish uncle. "You tried."

It was a statement, not a question, yet the elf answered anyway. "I wrote three letters. They were returned without answer." He shifted uncomfortably. "I had a friend riding that way once, asked him to check around. He said the dwarves in Ered Luin would answer no inquiries about Thorin or his sister, not to any elf."

Elladan looked shocked as he stared at his twin brother. "You never said."

"You never asked." Elrohir seemed uncomfortable under his sibling's scrutiny.

Kili suddenly felt hollow inside, remembering how his father had said that Elrohir had cared about Fili as a child.

"You never asked yourself?" The blond dwarrow asked.

"No." Elladan shook his head. "To my shame, I did not. I took your mother at her word and felt relieved that she was gone." He licked his lips as is nervous. "It was easier to let her go than to struggle with finding a way to live again. And with Fili gone, I could slide back into not caring. I wouldn't have to face his mortality."

"You still lost him." Oddly, it was Elrohir who pointed out the obvious.

Elladan shook his head. "With Fili gone, I lost him to living his own life. Not watching him age and die. I thought it easier."

All three other males snorted in almost exactly the same manner. Elladan smiled weakly at his own shortcomings. "Yes, well. I proved to be stupid apparently."

"You no longer feel the same way?" Fili asked.

Elladan leaned forward, looking between the two dwarrow siblings. "I don't know what it is that called me out of the darkness. The healing has been painfully slow. Yet when I found out that I had a son, my first emotions were anger, sorrow, pain, and hope. Three of those I was already familiar with. The fourth was new to me, I had not felt it in nearly eighty years."

"Hope?" Kili repeated the word as a question. "Bet you were shocked to meet me. Not quite an elfling."

"Kuilaith? I knew you were half-dwarrow from the moment I realized you might exist. I rode flat out for Erebor knowing that you would not be an elfling." Elladan paused, staring at his son. "The hard part was yours, realizing that your father wasn't Dwarven in but an instant."

Elrohir nodded in agreement, but added nothing out loud.

Fili shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Do you hate my mam?" Kili asked, not sure he really wanted the answer.

"Sometimes." Elladan admitted.

"Yes." Elrohir said very quietly.

"Were you disappointed when you saw Kili?" His brother asked, making the brunet at his side catch his breath.

"No." Both elves said together in unison.

"I'm not exactly good elfling material." The dark-eyed and mixed-blood prince said hollowly.

"Like I said, I knew you were no elfling." Elladan chuckled wryly. "And you continue to surprise me every day as I get to know you. You are a fine young dwarrow and a fine young elf all in one."

"You would wish me different."

Elladan chose his words very, very carefully. "I would wish you wanted or needed me in your life."

Kili grunted, then paused for a long period of time. Luckily elves knew how to be patient. Finally, he gave a small nod to show he'd heard.

"Next question. Will you allow me into your lives?"

Both dwarven princes froze. Lives. Plural. Fili and Kili shared a look that neither elf could read. Finally the blond lifted his chin, indicating that his brother should answer.

Kili frowned sharply, glancing over at his father. "You said that if I did not include learning about the other half of my blood, you would take me from Erebor by force."

Elladan winced strongly and nodded. "I did indeed say that. But, that was before getting to know your dwarven relatives a bit better. Before really seeing you as a person and not just a child who was stolen away from me." He looked into his son's dark eyes. "You do have a choice, though if you choose to ignore me I will most likely try and choose a way to get closer to you anyway."

"That may be too much truth." Muttered Fili with a wry smile that barely tilted his lips.

"You may not credit it, or me. But I do love you. I want you to learn about the elven portion of your heritage, it is a part of you even if you did not know it as you grew."

Kili groaned, but did not seem rejecting of the words nor the sentiment. "Do I have to continue my lessons?"

"Yes." The tall elven father smiled slowly. "And even if you got away from me, there is still the matter of my mother's mother."

"True enough." Groused Kili, thinking of the Lady Galadriel.

"And you?" Elladan turned his gaze upon Fili.

The crown prince blinked and sighed. "You gave up all rights to be in my life."

"Yes." Acknowledged Elladan.

"What role could you possible offer me that would suit?" Fili continued.

The second-father nodded slowly. "None. Only what you would allow. By your leave."

"I still hate you some." The blond dwarrow admitted. "You've not been bad to Kili, nor I. Not since you rode in here looking to steal him from me."

Interesting that the young prince used 'me' and not 'us'. Neither elf twin mentioned the word though, nor did they look at each other.

"But offering bait of kindness rather than threats, doesn't put you on the side of right." Fili continued.

Elrohir smiled very slightly. "You are going to make a wise king."

Fili frowned sharply. "Flattery is meaningless."

The elvish uncle held up his hands in surrender, but shook his head as if to say the words weren't empty flattery.

"We …no, I. I was a fool back when you were four." Elladan spoke as calmly as he could manage so as not to provoke Fili's formidable temper that he sensed was present but had yet to fully see. "You owe us nothing. It is we who owe you."

"You owe me nothing." Fili denied quickly.

"That you may decide for yourself, but not for us." Elrohir said with firm quietness.

"Next question." Kili interrupted, feeling uneasy and on edge. When everyone turned to look at him, he gave a weak half-smile. "Now what?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Did you really think dangling a seat on the White Council before a dwarf and a man would make me reconsider my joining?" Thranduil sneered over at the elf sitting in his private study.

"Hardly." Glorfindel dipped his head in a short nod of respect, without actually bowing. A mark of equality.

Frowning, the elven king refused to rise to the bait. "You are no monarch, yet you sit upon the council."

"Neither or any of the three wizards. Nor does Lord Elrond or the Shipwright claim such titles."

Thranduil sighed and rolled his eyes slightly at the re-embodied warrior. "A rag-tag group indeed."

"Only an alliance with others helped in defeating Sauron in the first place. A costly battle at the time, and I doubt it will be any easier this time."

"Oh, but now we have you." Mocked the elvish king. "The slayer of a dragon and a balrog. Or did you forget that I too have fought dragons?"

"Not recently."

The words dropped between them like ice.

Thranduil whipped around so quickly his hair flew out in an arc around him before resettling on his back. "You dare?" He hissed. "I was under no obligation to attack an already entrenched dragon."

"No? What about helping his victims? Or were you so bent on your distaste for dwarves that you failed to see their suffering?" Glorfindel eyed the Mirkwood king evenly, not overtly challenging but definitely without deference.

"You love the dwarves so much, why did not you come and slay the dragon for them?" Thanduil sneered down his nose at the other warrior.

"Why do you hide your face?" The golden-haired elf asked pointedly.

The elvish king drew back with a sharp stare and a hiss on his lips, whipping the hem of his robes away from Glorfindel most deliberately.

"Mordor comes. Now, tomorrow, next year, in fifty years or a century and longer …only the Deceiver knows. But make no mistake, he will come."

Thranduil nodded. "This I know only too well. His eye will fall here and I will fight."

"Alone?"

"I am no puppet to the Valar!"

"Neither are we." Glorfindel sighed, leaning forward and propping himself up against a nearby bookcase. "Nor do we seek to control you, we merely want your council."

"We were fine. Fighting off encroaching goblins and spiders as need be. Without Imladris or Lothlorien telling us what to do or how to think. We need no outside influence."

The golden-haired hero sighed unhappily. "You tossed Thorin Oakenshield and his Company in your prison cells, tried to hold them hostage for the right to possess some stones. Nearly kept a dragon on your doorstep. Nearly lost your army to goblins and wargs."

Thranduil actually growled.

"An army? I lost one of my finest captains and my only son! Do not speak to me of loss! I have lost my wife, and even my face …" He let the illusion fade over his horrific scars left by dragon fire.

"I lost my life."

The quiet words stilled the king's tirade, but only for a moment. Thranduil shook his head. "The Valar gave it back to you. Only they know why."

"To fight Mordor." Glorfindel admitted without a hint of pride. "I did not ride out to seek out a dragon beneath a mountain, because I have nothing to prove. And I only knew I would be needed to fight against the growing darkness. If I had known the dragon might be part of it, I would have reconsidered."

Thranduil stared at him coldly. "Get your new …friends …" His tone dripped with sarcastic intent and disgust. "And go to your new underground home."

"You are ever welcome within the council. We need your strength." Glorfindel nodded his head, then paused. "I heard the names of the dead of Erebor called out, heard the songs and felt them in the marrow of my bones. You should have rendered aid at the very least."

"Get out."

The golden haired elf nodded, and left the King of the Mirkwood alone. Thranduil viciously threw his wine glass at the door, shattering it with a curse. Breathing heavily, he sighed. "I know."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili hesitated a slight moment, but the forged ahead. He knocked sharply on the door, though the door to the small chamber was open.

Lord Celeborn looked up from the chair in the sitting area, placing his hand over his page to keep his place. His expression read as faintly surprised to see the son of this daughter's son looking at him. "Kuilaith?"

Smiling weakly, Kili gave a short bow. "Lord Celeborn."

The elf lord nodded, then gestured for the young mixed-blood dwarrow to come closer. "You do not have to use the title, especially not in such an informal setting as this."

"That would feel really weird." The brunet admitted ruefully.

Celeborn nodded very briefly, clearly wondering what this interruption was about. Kili did not make him wait. "I need advice."

The leader from Lothlorien's eyebrows rose very high on his smooth forehead, distracting the young dwarf. "And you need wrinkles." Kili said mournfully. "It's not right to be your age without any wrinkles."

Startled, Celeborn's eyes lightened with the lad's words. "I am as I am."

"Me too." Kili sobered, then peeked over at the imposing elf lord. "I just don't know exactly what I am, nor what everyone expects of me. Who do I allow close? What I should do? If I'm even capable of being what they want."

"Surely I would be the last you need advice from? What of your king?"

"Uncle Thorin?" Kili scoffed. "He will always see me as a dwarfling. Just as Elladan and Elrohir will see me as they want me to become."

"Your brother perhaps?"

"Has his own questions." Kili frowned unhappily at the thought of Fili's preoccupied look as the two had departed from their discussion with the twins.

"My wife is very fond of you and has only good advice." Celeborn offered next.

Kili shuddered. "She scares me sometimes. And I don't know that I can trust her."

The silver-haired elf stiffened at the perceived insult.

Missing the reaction, Kili shrugged. "If she loves me as she says, then how can she give equitable advice? Wouldn't she be biased on the side of my elf blood?"

"Ah. That kind of trust." Celeborn settled down a bit, eying this new addition to his family. "What of Saruman? He is deemed wise and is indeed the head of the wizards in Arda. He does not love you as my wife does, but would give very sound advice."

Kili grimaced. "I don't like him. He's not Gandalf."

Celeborn actually chuckled at that comment. "You and my lovely wife may have more in common than you might believe. Fine. Why come to me?"

"You don't like me." Kili said cheerfully. "I can count on you not to be influenced by loving me too much."

Celeborn sighed and eyed the brunet prince stoically. "I like you, I just have reservations." He said truthfully.

Kili grinned and pulled up a footstool, settling down near the elf lord. "That'll do."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili paced in his room feeling more than a little unsettled. His mind raced for something to which he could anchor his emotions.

Three letters.

Elrohir had sent an envoy and had personally written three letters. All returned. By his mother. It had to have been. Who else?

Why?

Okay. He knew why. His mouth twisted bitterly. Mam hated elves, and possibly had good reasons. He needed to wait. Wait and hear. Listen. Learn.

His hand was stinging and raw before he even realized he was about to strike the stone wall with his fist. Gritting his teeth, Fili grabbed his thick leathers.

He needed to be outside. His temper was broiling and he needed to let out some steam.

Mam against the elves. Of course he'd back her. Of course he would. She had hidden Kili's existence from them. There had to be a good reason. But why hadn't she told Kili? To keep him from hurting, or seeking them out? Maybe. Maybe. But she could have told Thorin at least. Or him. Why not him? He would have protected her. He would have protected Kili.

Fili ran his hand through his hair, feeling his braids. His fingers stilled as he ran one of his braids between his fingers. Feeling the lack of a bead. His first.

Gifted by Elladan, but coming from Elrohir's own hair.

He needed advice. To talk to someone.

Fili hesitated and stopped in the middle of the hallway, drawing a few looks as he spun and headed back toward Erebor's libraries. He needed to talk with someone wise.


	40. In which there are conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not an easy chapter to write. Started it at least twice, and completely scrapped it twice. Tons of revisions. In the end, I like the final result, but apologize for taking so long.

Kili watched as Lord Celeborn sat back in his seat with unconscious grace, steepling his long fingers just beneath his chin. The elf's gaze was contemplative and the young half-dwarven prince had to fight not to fidget as he waited for an answer.

But an answer wasn't what he got.

"Why do you wish to know this?" The elf lord's tone was smooth and held no hints as to his thoughts.

Kili shifted his sitting weight just a bit, then stilled. "It's a very simple question."

"I disagree." The silver-haired elf who would never look his age fanned the fingers slightly on one hand for a moment before returning to his previous position. "The question only appears simple on the outside."

Kili's smile faded slightly around the edges. "Will I be accepted in Lothlorien? As an elf, or at least as someone who belongs there. See? Simple enough question."

Lord Celeborn nodded minutely, then blinked his eyes quite slowly. "Again, why is this information you feel you need?"

Feeling as if he were missing something within this conversation that he himself had initiated, Kili sighed as if that answer should be obvious.

Taking the non-verbal cue, the silver-haired elf gave a dry smile. "The answer depends on you. Will you let them accept you, or will you keep others away? Some will take more time to win them over, others not so much. And yes, some may never be accepting, just as with any large group." He paused and then leaned forward, his elbows now resting on his knees. "Now. Tell me, why do you ask the question?"

Kili leaned back instinctively, then frowned at his own movement. Deliberately he sat forward again, symbolically putting less distance between himself and this elf lord who was one of his ancestors. "I want to know. And you …well, you're the leader there so it makes sense to ask you."

"No." Lord Celeborn dismissed that answer with the quick response and a shake of his head. "That's not the reason."

Kili's face clouded as he frowned, straightening in his seat a bit more. "Of course it is!" He protested quickly.

"You have already been accepted by some elves, and rejected by others, namely the fool from Mirkwood who was derelict in his duties. You already know that not all of the elves will welcome you with open arms and I have seen enough of you to know that you already knew the answer to your question." Lord Celeborn looked straight into the brunet's dark eyes. "So. Why did you ask the question? Here, now and to me?"

"Uhm." Kili shrugged with studied nonchalance. "I wanted to know your answer? Leader there?" He didn't sound quite as sure of himself as he had earlier.

"Kuilaith." The name was drawn out, almost chiding.

The brunet's eyebrows immediately furrowed and his expression darkened.

Celeborn paused, taken aback, considering. "You don't like your Elvish name?" He'd not noticed the young prince having such a strong reaction when called such previously.

Kili took in a deep breath, held it, then he let it out slowly from puffed out cheeks. He shook his head and gave a half-hearted shrug. "When the others call me that it's almost an endearment. When you do it, it's just a name. It feels all wrong."

"Perceptive. And yet not." Celeborn said a bit mysteriously. "You can take the name as it is said in affection, but when it is a designation of who you are, that is harder to digest?"

"I don't know." Kili shook his head, feeling a bit lost. "When Elladan and the Lady use it, I guess I can ignore it being a name and take it …I mean, like Saruman is called the White and Gandalf has been known as the Gray. Perhaps as a continuation on my real name."

"And as Sauron is known as the Deceiver?"

The brunet hissed at the comparison, but then reluctantly nodded. "A title, rather than a name."

"Does it bother you to hear Gandalf addressed as Mithrandir?"

"No." The dwarven half-prince admitted rather reluctantly. "But it's like you're seeing me different than I really am."

"You have already laid it out before me with your earlier comment. You called Kili your 'real' name, as if all else is mere illusion or of no consequence." Lord Celeborn stared at his mixed-blood descendant for a long time, then smiled sadly. "I probably do see you differently than you see yourself. Even if I called you Kili, I would still see you the same as when I call you Kuilaith."

"Then why call me by the elvish name?" Kili challenged, feeling off-balance. "Why not use the name I'm actually used to hearing?"

"Why do you insist on your dwarvish name?"

"Why do you answer questions with questions and not give an answer at all?" The young prince's voice dipped a toe into belligerence as he reached up with agitation and yanked on one of his already messy braids.

"Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to, and not ask the ones that really bother you?" Celeborn rejoined.

Kili groaned loudly, stretching his back in agitation as he glared up at the ceiling for a lengthy moment. "All I wanted was a simple answer." He muttered.

"No." Lord Celeborn dared to reject the utterance. "You wanted me to give you an excuse not to come to Lothlorien. You knew I could not with any honesty say that all elves will accept you easily. You knew the answer and asked the question anyway, seeking no additional information …only an excuse to stay here in Erebor."

"You make me out to be most manipulative." Kili hissed his words out between clenched teeth. "So perhaps it will surprise you that no, I seek no excuse, I want to know if I will EVER be accepted in an Elvish stronghold. First one we were outsiders, and the last one I visited I was thrown in their prison cells."

The silver-haired elf paused in the midst of shaking his head. His eyes dilated a bit, arrested by the new thought. He drew back slightly, as if trying to focus on Kili's whole self. "Arwen and Galadriel live in Lothlorien as well, but they are already well disposed toward you. I am not. So that is why you bring your question to me?"

"Despite my lack of years, I am no child. No matter what my father tries to say to the contrary. I make my own decisions. If I ever go to Lothlorien, it will be because I decided upon it myself. I need no excuses to stay or go." Kili touched his palm to his chest, then made a sweeping gesture.

Celeborn's expression seemed intrigued as he watched the young prince.

Kili gave a sour look and shook his head at the elf lord. "Don't look so shocked as if I'm some animal that managed to do something clever. You misjudged me."

"Yes." The high-elf nodded, admitting the truth freely. "Just as you have misjudged me. No, I do not overly trust dwarves. But I have been friends with several of your race previously. In fact, my wife and I were escorted as honored guests through your Khazad-dum on our way to Lothlorien when we moved that way."

Kili stared at the silver-haired elf, blinking rapidly in his surprise.

"In other words, your assumption has been that I dislike you because of your dwarvish blood." Lord Celeborn tilted his head slightly to one side, his gaze never leaving that of the younger male. "I do admit that I am naturally disposed to be skeptical of dwarves. I have seen first-hand the effects of the rings of power, gold, and greed on some of your previous kings, and kin."

Now Kili was barely breathing as he listened intently.

The silver-haired elf pointed to the child of his daughter's son. "My objections to you, not your ancestry, comes from the fact that the marriage between Elladan and the Lady Dis was arranged without consultation with neither myself nor my lady wife."

"You would have counselled against?"

"I would have indeed." Lord Celeborn smiled almost sadly. "I would not have thought a marriage without love would last or work, and I was right."

Kili could not argue that point, as the outcome of his mam's marriage was quite evidently failure. That left only him. "You think I'm tainted, wrong somehow?"

"No, oh child, no." The elf lord sounded quite sincere, mollifying the young prince's feelings somewhat. "I am merely hesitant at forcing ties where they did not grow naturally."

"What would you have of me?" This question was a whisper, barely uttered and nearly nonexistent.

The elves though have most excellent hearing. Earnest eyes met those of the mixed-blood youth with kindness enough to make Kili struggle to keep his emotions at bay. "I would have Elladan healed and whole once more. The scars of his grief are invisible, yet terrible. I would have Elrohir laughing and impetuous again. I would see Arwen find love and trust that it will not be yanked out from beneath her feet as it was to her elder brother. I would have my dearest Celebrian offer her gentle counsel once more. I would have my wife's heart eased at this terrible time. I would have you, child, open yourself to the Light of the Eldar. Whether you live here, in Lothlorien, in Imladris, or anywhere in between, is inconsequential to any of that."

"You don't want me in your family." Kili's voice was hoarse and he had to clear his throat twice to get the words out.

Lord Celeborn shook his head. "You say what you hope to be true, not what is truth itself. I want you either in the family, or out. The half-hearted measures you employ now are hurting you, and everyone else you care about. The question you need to ask, the one at the heart of all matters here, is ….what do you want?"

Kili's mouth opened to say he wanted the elves gone, but the words would not come. He shook his head and dropped his gaze to the floor near Celeborn's feet. He could see the fine workmanship of the elf's boots and idly he realized that he was wearing the gift that Tauriel had given him for Durin's Day. Elvish style boots with Dwarvish runes. A mixture of the two cultures. He choked, coughing for a moment as he struggled with the internal question.

"I answer your question with questions, because I …no one …can give you the answer except for you yourself. No wisdom, no sage, no wizard, dwarf or elf can possibly give you the answer you must come to on your own."

"Ah! Kili! Good, have you seen your brother? I have some reports for him to look over." Balin beamed happily from the open doorway, though his smile wilted a bit as he seemed to catch scent of the heavy emotions whirling around the young prince. Not the elf though, that one was hard to read. "Lad?" It was a question and an offer of support.

The young brunet chuckled without mirth or joy, his head hanging down with his hair curtaining the sides of his face. "No reports for me to look over?"

Balin hesitated at the unexplained rawness of Kili's voice. His eyes flew to Lord Celeborn, but the elf was merely looking neutral and almost bored. "It's on the warning bell system. Your brother has been heading that committee."

"While I've been lazing about trying to learn how to be an elf?"

Balin's eyes widened with distress, clearly unsure how to answer that question. He turned and looked down the hallway, nearly melting with relief. "Gloin! Your majesty!"

Thorin and his red-bearded cousin looking up from whatever topic they'd been discussing in the hallway. Balin quirked his head, summoning them.

The king's eyebrows shot up at being treated so casually by his white-haired advisor.

Balin's shoulders slumped and his eyes turned near pleading.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel could feel the headache coming on. Elves were proof against most diseases, but not against stress. Though she refused to let anyone see her discomfort.

Deliberately she forked up another bite of the delicious meal that King Thranduil had ordered for his guests, though the monarch was nowhere in evidence. It tasted like sawdust in her mouth.

"Fine vintage." Glorfindel spoke most casually, though his own meal looked barely touched.

Dwalin grunted, eating the food without any problem. Though his glower was dark and off-putting. All of the Mirkwood elves at the elegantly set table completely ignored the bald and tattooed warrior who sat with his shoulders forward and ate without the grace of manners they were accustomed to seeing. And it seemed to amuse them that they'd had to find a block of wood for the dwarf to place upon his chair to raise him to the table properly.

Tauriel watched as one of the elvish servers passed right by Dwalin's empty wine glass and topped off Glorfindel's instead, pretending not to see. The she-elf frowned and eyed the servant, a Silvan elf like herself, though considerably older. She glanced at her own half-full glass, giving an internal grimace that did not find expression on her face.

This same servant had been an ally of hers, once. He'd been so pleased when she'd gained her captaincy within the King's Guard. At any party or celebration he'd made sure she'd had her choice of whatever was being served. Not tonight. Perhaps not ever again. Whenever she looked at him, his eyes were stubbornly refusing to meet her own.

"Is there aught wrong with your dinner?" Glorfindel asked pointedly, eying the red-head with speculation.

"No. It is lovely." The she-elf started, having been lost in her own musings for a moment. Tauriel spoke blandly, hiding her discomfort completely.

Dwalin growled, but made no comment. His eyes flicked back and forth between each and every guest and server in the room.

Glorfindel gave an indolent tilt to his head in the dwarven warrior's direction, asking without words what was stuck in Dwalin's craw.

Tauriel blinked slowly and looked back down at her food. She didn't know. Perhaps the dwarrow was feeling the tension and lack of a real welcome, just as she was.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili's resolve frayed around the edges as he stood slightly outside the circle of light given off by the wizard's lantern. The older male with his perfectly straight hair and pristine robes gave off an aura of unapproachability. This was not Gandalf. Perhaps this was even a bad idea.

"Come closer, boy."

Fili frowned sharply. "Dwarrow, dwarf, prince. Lad if you must find a way to make known your age over mine." The words were stilted and defensive.

Saruman kept reading, ignoring the comment for a lengthy time.

Fili bared his teeth, ready to take his leave. He wasn't going to push in where he obviously wasn't wanted.

"My apologies." The words were fine, so was the tone. Fili put it down to his imagination that the words held a sour taste to them. "Crown Prince of Erebor, I did not realize whom it was approaching."

The young dwarrow let the comment pass without challenge, though he doubted the veracity. Boy. There were no human males within the mountain at the moment. Instantly he decided not to seek the counsel of this particular wizard.

"Come closer."

It was suddenly as if the sweetest birdsong had entered the libraries of Erebor. The sweet and dulcet tones of Saruman's voice was in complete contrast to what had just been previously. Fili hesitated.

"What answers do you seek?" The white wizard finally sat back in his chair, his posture picture perfect as he turned his gaze fully onto the young crown prince. Care, compassion, wisdom beyond measure. All of these dripped from Saruman's voice as if coated in them.

Fili took a step forward, forgetting all about is earlier pique.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elladan leaned against one arm, propping himself up on the stone wall in front of the fireplace in his room. The merry sound of fire consuming the wood mocked him. His fingers curled very slightly against the smoothly hewn stones. Stone.

He was surrounded by stone. Underground.

"Your thoughts turn dark."

Elladan closed his eyes in fond despair. He'd not heard his door open, but she was just suddenly there. "Lady." For it was the Lady of Light behind him, not the mother of his mother. A distinction that few were ever privy to share.

The round, rich fullness of Galadriel's voice rolled over him. "Your wounds are bleeding this night." It wasn't asked, nor pitched as a question though that was exactly what it was.

Elladan closed his eyes, dropping his head just enough that the fall of hair on his left swung down like a curtain beside his features. "Please. Not now." He begged her to leave off, to be merely the mother of his mother and not this being of power.

"It has been 'not now' for nearly eight decades. When will be the 'now' you seek?"

Never. Elladan tasted the word on his tongue, but did not utter it aloud. Though he had no doubt she could hear him anyway.

"Your love has gone away, left the living world behind. Leaving you alone. Only you are not alone."

Suddenly it dawned on him that Galadriel wasn't mind-speaking. She was leaving him to his own thoughts. He straightened and turned, staring.

The Lady of Light stared back at him. Each golden wave of her hair was perfect and there seemed to be a light source behind her to illuminate her form, though he knew there was no lamp lit back there and the fireplace was in the wrong place. It was her own power that was shining forth, a sight he had seen only a few times in nearly three thousand years.

A hint, a touch, a simple awareness. Elladan settled a bit as he recognized his twin's mental touch. Neither of the brothers could mind-speak when not in line of sight, but being as close as they were it was as second nature to know when the other was troubled. Elrohir was wondering if he should return.

Elladan put a tighter rein on his emotions and sent soothing thoughts back toward his twin. Not that his brother would receive anything as specific as words or a picture, just a feeling that all was well.

As if sensing the exchange, Galadriel waited until the gray-eyed elf looked back up at her. She wasn't smiling. "You are not alone." She repeated.

"I have family that love me very much, and I them." Elladan bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"You have a son." The words were not softly given, but pieces of carved power given sound.

Elladan's head snapped up, but he was unable to read the Lady's expression. "He does not feel he needs a father." He said quite defensively.

"Do not put that on him." The Lady stared at him, as if seeing deeper than his skin. "Kuilaith craves a father, there is need there that goes to the core of his being."

Elladan froze in place. "What are you trying to tell me? That I am not good enough a father for him?"

"Yes."

Pain. Anger. Rage. And strangely, recognition of denied truth. "So. I should either try harder to be a good father or leave him be?"

"If you try harder to be a good father, you will fail." Came the cold response.

Elladan's eyes widened nearly impossibly, he glared at this being of power and stalked toward her. He ignored all the danger signals his mind tried to send him. This was the Lady. "I will not give him up!"

"No?"

"NO!"

"Then don't try harder to be a good father, just be a father." Her words stopped him just a few steps away. "Give up acting like you think a father should act, give up trying to emulate Elrond, as good an elf as there ever has been despite his mixed blood." She gave him a long look full of emotions he could not fully grasp. "Elladan, my dearest Elladan, you lost yourself. Your body stayed here, but your mind and soul sailed away from us."

The elf lord stared at her as if she were a life-line to a drowning victim.

"Before your son can accept you, you have to become whole once again. Kuilaith does not need a shell of a sire, he needs you."

"He is not a child."

"Indeed not." She actually smiled as she spoke, deliberately putting a picture in Elladan's head of Kuilaith kissing Tauriel after the exchange of courting beads.

The tall elf paled, then chuckled, finally he gave a weak smile. "He is not willing to wait before marrying her."

"You think you lose him just when you found him?" The Lady smiled at him coolly. "I never lost Celebrian to your father, nor to you and your siblings. Even now she is not lost to me."

Elladan's head rose sharply as he sucked in a harsh breath. "Have you spoken with her?"

The Valar did not allow those who had sailed West to visit with nor speak with those who remained in Arda. Those who sailed lived on, but out of touch with those left behind.

"No." Came the sad response. Galadriel, more than most, despite her tremendous gifts, was not welcome on those Shores. Not yet. It was something she never spoke on. "But I know her to be there, and I hope one day to lay my eyes upon her again and the stars will sing."

There was longing in the Lady's voice as she spoke of her only child, her daughter. A pain too deep to fathom and one that Elladan had never heard from her before. He held his breath, realizing at once why she was sharing her hurt with him.

"My son is mortal. Every moment that I spend not being his father, I can never get back." His voice broke on the last word.

"You cannot make him love you. You can simply offer him your love, be there, always. Let him know you will love him no matter what comes, or doesn't come. He can become wholly dwarven and you will still be there. Here. There. Wherever. Whatever."

"In other words, stop trying to control his life." Came the rather droll response from the elf father. He sighed. "I suppose, even if he does marry Tauriel, I don't lose him, not really."

"She is young too." Galadriel offered, then smiled sadly. "And has never been away from the Mirkwood. There are two of them now. Three." Her eyes showed that she had not missed seeing how much it had hurt him to see Fili all grown up, having missed out on so much of his life. All of that his fault.

"What if they don't want me around?" Elladan asked, his emotions feeling a bit raw and exposed.

The Lady of Light smiled, but it wasn't a thing of comfort. The younger elf took a step back at the fierceness exposed there. "If you allow that to happen, then I sorrow for you all."

Elladan suddenly smiled, his gray-eyes alight. "You were willing to ride in here and take him away from this mountain with us." He reminded her with a sweep of his hand to indicate the entirety of Erebor.

One blink and suddenly the Lady was Galadriel once again. She pursed her lips rather sourly at her daughter's son. "Reminding me of my own mistakes does not excuse your own." She rather snapped.

Relaxing wholly for the first time in perhaps eight decades, Elladan managed a rather dry chuckle. Yet, there was true amusement within it.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"This is really delicious." Dain burped with great satisfaction, bringing a smile to all three of the dwarrowdams. "Calbrinia? You are a marvel. So talented with weapons, and you can make these? Astounding."

The youngest dwarrowdam blushed prettily, but shook off the compliment. "I cannot bake. Mix up something explosive? Yes. Baking? Pfft. My father sent those along, my father's sister recipe before she went to Wait."

"Sorry to hear of your family's loss." Hinnin made a small bow of his head, having learned enough of dwarves to know that Waiting meant passing from this world to the next.

Dain grunted in agreement, nodding toward the elf sitting around the campfire with them.

Ahriline, having grown more accustomed to the elf at their campfires on this long journey, gave the elf a small smile to show she at least appreciated his kindness to another. She still found it difficult to make conversation with Hinnan, but he'd been completely polite to both her and Gimli thus far. Though her lad still grumbled about the elf, taking his cues from the Lady Dis who kept her distance and distaste for all things elvish.

Only. Ahriline smiled weakly over at her dear friend. Gimli still was having difficulty wrapping his mind around the fact that Kili was indeed, part elf himself. Her dwarfling still clung to the notion that someone or something would swoop in and magically change the past, though he knew such thoughts to be nothing more than fantasy.

Calbrinia, on the other hand, took her cues from the Ironfoot. And since Dain was clearly friendly with the elf, she treated him as such. "Here, have another."

The elf took the proffered jelly filled turn-over with grace. "I thank you. My wife says that early in life someone must have removed one of my teeth and replaced it with one made of sugar."

The young dwarrowdam laughed winningly. "You go the long way around to say you have a sweet tooth!"

Ahriline glanced over at Dis, to gauge her friend's mood. The only living female of Durin's Line was frowning most sharply, her eyes following the young dwarrowdam. Ahriline sighed, knowing that the princess was a bit put off by the easy camaraderie between Dain and the elf, and more so by how Calbrinia seemed so at ease with the situation.

"Youngsters need their rest." Dis said, her voice bland.

Dain shook his head, wiping crumbs from his beard. "Nay, nay good cousin. Let Gimli and Calbrinia be. There are no school rooms or training fields for us on the morrow."

"Just more on an over-long journey." Dis' tone was a bit snippy.

"And I for one am over the age of consent." Calbrinia drew up with all the pride of youth.

"Come! Let us have stories!" Dain reached out and tugged on Calbrinia's hand, drawing forth from her a bright smile until his next words. "Tantalize our beauteous dam here with tales of the young Crown Prince."

The dwarrowdam in question frowned slightly, obviously more than a little bored with tales of Fili and Kili. Dain had been regaling her with such stories each night for too long already. "Nay."

Dain looked so disappointed that the dam smiled at him. "Tell me of the Iron Hills instead." She deftly turned the subject. "What tales are there of the Ironfoot?"

"Oh no, you don't want to hear about a grizzled warrior."

"Please? Tell us of your great axe?" This help came from Gimli, who leaned in eagerly.

Dain, clearly flattered, wavered.

Hinnin caught Calbrinia's eyes as she looked around the area. "Indeed. I know so little of that realm. Did you found the establishment there?"

The young dwarrowdam looked a bit startled at the unexpected assistance, and from such a one as the elf lord. But she took the help graciously. "Oh, I believe that was Dain, but the grandfather of this one, who is far from grizzled and is still in his prime."

"Oh, aye!" Dain warmed to the subject, beginning a story about how the original Dain, who had been the son of Gror, came to found the Iron Hills community.

Ahriline smiled, watching the others gather around the Ironfoot. She stood up, making her way over to Dis before sitting down again. She leaned in, looking over at Calbrinia. "That one is not subtle."

Dis gave a choked kind of laugh, then shook her head with a smile teasing the edges of her lips. "It's too bad, she would make a fine princess."

Ahriline shrugged. "I don't know. Dain is a good choice, if he'd only realize just where it is her eyes are falling."

Dis nodded.

"You've lost weight." The wife of Gloin said quietly, as if discussing the weather.

The princess stilled, then nodded again, this time much more slowly. "I always lose weight in winter. We all do. And this is a lengthy journey."

"True." Ahriline commented cautiously. "No matter what you may find in Erebor, remember, you are one of us. Durin's Folk. The matriarch of the family."

Dis looked at her friend, grateful for the support. She smiled and patted Ahriline's glove-covered hand. Still. With what waited for her in Erebor, she would need every ounce of strength she could muster. "Any more of that stew left?"

Ahriline smiled and nodded, getting up to fetch her friend some more food.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin looked at Balin, who gave a weak shrug as if to say he didn't know what was wrong either. The King Under the Mountain next turned his gaze upon the sole elf in the room. He raised a single eyebrow in demand of an explanation.

Lord Celeborn deliberately turned his gaze from the king over to the youngest prince. Kili was still staring at the floor, his face hidden by his hair. "Growing pains." He said enigmatically.

Balin smiled hesitantly. "The kind Lady Arwen is making Kili some new clothing that will fit better." He took the elf's words as literal.

Thorin did not. He sighed, shaking his head. "Rough night?" His voice was gruff, yet not unkind.

Kili's shoulders hunched a bit. "Nothing makes sense anymore."

Gloin cleared his throat. "You still having that …er, problem?" He said referring as delicately as possible to the young brunet's body struggling with sexual maturity.

Kili ground his teeth together audibly.

Gloin sighed, nodding his head in sympathy. He threw a look over at the silver-haired elf from the Golden Wood. "Is there nothing your lot can do to make this easier on the lad?"

It was Balin who actually answered though. "The healers are working on it. They think that the dual nature of Kili's blood is causing the problem. Too young in one race, but of age in the other. His body wars with itself."

"Elflings do not mature physically as quickly as the dwarves do, apparently." Celeborn offered slowly. "They gain their minds earlier though. Sometimes they think they can do more than they really can, before they are actually ready."

Thorin chuckled, drawing answering smiles from both Balin and Gloin. "Actually, that would explain a lot about Kili as a young dwarfling. Always smart as a whip, but rushing into things. His mam called it recklessness."

Celeborn's smile faded as Kili stood up quickly, tension wafting off of his body in waves. His fists were clenched down at his sides. He glowered at no one, meeting no one's gaze. He started to push his way out of the room without a word.

Until Thorin deliberately stepped into his path.

Kili stopped before running into his mother's brother. Barely. He said not a word.

Thorin raised both arms and put his hands on the brunet's shoulders, squeezing hard. Then he simply let go and stepped out of the way. No words were exchanged, but some of the awful tension melted away as Kili gave a short nod of his head, accepting the unspoken support.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Can elves be trusted? Really trusted?"

If Saruman was surprised by the stark question, it did not show on his face. The wizard stared at the young crown prince for a moment, then raised his eyes, as if taking the question into serious contemplation.

"Forgive me for not answering fully, but I will say that on the whole, the elves are trustworthy. In general."

"General?" Fili frowned deeply, clearly in an uneasy frame of mind.

"Specifically, I presume you speak of Elladan, son of Elrond?"

"We can start there." The blond dwarrow said with a hint of bitterness to his tone of voice.

Saruman smiled most sadly, invitingly. "Come, you know that not every dwarf can be trusted on the same level."

Fili drew up in indignation.

"Calm." Again, there was that sweet as honey tone. Fili felt his temper ramp down a bit and he gave a reluctant nod of his head. "I simply mean that when your Thorin asked for assistance in regaining Erebor, not everyone answered the call."

"Indeed." Breathed out Fili, remembering the harsh disappointment when he realized they were going to take only thirteen on the quest.

"By the same measure, some elves can be trusted more than others. Just as with any other race in Arda." Saruman spread his hands as if in apology. "Whether or not you give anyone your trust, much less an elf, is up to you of course."

Fili hesitated, feeling more at ease than he had in days. And yet, he'd not really gotten an answer to his question. Or had he? Saruman had not simply said 'yes' now had he?

The wizard leaned forward, appearing to peer directly into Fili's bright blue eyes. "Just remember one thing." His voice was so light, so perfect, and so brilliantly pure. "You can always trust me."

Fili found himself nodding as he thanked the wizard for taking up his valuable time.

As for the wizard, he watched the dwarvish prince take his leave with no little satisfaction. Dwarrow minds were not easily controlled. Even Sauron's rings had not overtaken them, not like they had with the Kings of Men. No. Those rings had only heightened their worst traits, such as avarice and greed.

He knew better than to try to use his Voice to take over the still naïve princeling. Still. Saruman nodded grimly to himself. He could certainly plant a few seeds.

"You can always trust me." He said aloud to no one, smiling as he returned to his reading.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elladan looked up, startled as his door opened and Kuilaith stalked inside. He sighed to see the agitation writ large upon his son's actions and expression. "This may not be the best time." He was still reeling a bit from his conversation with the Lady of Light.

Kuilaith paced the room back and forth a moment, then pushed his hair out of his face and looked at his father.

Elladan's breath caught, the lad looked so very lost.

The elf held open his arms.

The young brunet hesitated, then crossed the room in a rush. Elladan enclosed his only child in a tight hold. It only took a moment or two, but Kuilaith held himself tense before relaxing suddenly.

Taking the precious weight of his son into account, the elf simply held him and said nothing. Unsure of the undercurrents, he decided to wait Kuilaith out.

After several long minutes, his son's shoulders tightened, though not with tension but with the preparation of movement. Reluctantly the elven father loosened his hold and let the young brunet step back.

Kuilaith's face appeared suspiciously rosy for a moment, as if embarrassed. "Sorry."

"I'm not."

The young dwarrow nodded, though not meeting his father's gaze.

"Something happen?" Elladan probed lightly, leaving it up to his son what to share.

A wry grin and a shrug. "Had a 'helpful' chat with Lord Celeborn."

"Oh?" The elvish father sighed and then gave an answering smile. "My chat was with the Lady of Light."

Something in his voice had Kuilaith looking up with sudden interest, then the lad actually laughed. "I wouldn't want to trade."

Elladan gave a rough sort of laugh, joining his son. "Sit. We don't have to talk if you don't feel like it."

"I don't." Kuilaith said gratefully, taking a seat next to the fireplace, waiting for his father to join him. "I'm not up to more questions. Not tonight."

"One question?" Gray eyes showed amusement and the dwarrow simply waited. "Would you care for a glass of wine?"

Kuilaith looked at the fire then shook his head. "I'm fine."

The elven father nodded, relaxing in the shared warmth, both from the fire and the company.


	41. In which Thorin makes a decision

"You do know that a dwarrowdam isn't going to be wanting to do the chasing?"

Dain laughed as he nodded, tightening the latches on his travel packs as the group got ready to break camp. He glanced over at Ahriline and they both turned to watch Calbrinia as the battle-maiden made short work of checking weapon availability on the mounts. "Fili would be a fool not to do a bit of chasing, to my thinking. She's a jewel."

"A bright, shiny one, indeed." Gloin's wife smiled at the dwarf's blindness. "Not only Fili will be able to judge that for themselves. In fact, such a treasure as she would have already been chased. A lot. It's my thought she wouldn't be caught unless that was her wish."

Dain's smile slipped a bit as he considered those words. "You're thinking, she's what? Already got her eye on someone?"

Ahriline leaned in conspiratorially. "Where are her friends?" She moved away rather quickly after dropping in that leading question.

The leader from the Iron Hills frowned sharply. Hadn't Calbrinia told him on his first pass through this area that there were more dwarrowdams than just she? So what if they decided to wait until spring to travel to Erebor. Smart thing to do, actually. They probably weren't as brave as his battle-maid. Dain shook his head. Fili's battle-maid. He frowned at the thought, suddenly uneasy.

Subtlety wasn't high on Dain's list of virtues. He marched over to where Calabrinia was speaking with Hinnin about the upcoming route and what might be expected.

The elf nodded toward the dwarrow leader as he neared. "I recall a narrow cut-through about five hours that way." He pointed. "Good place to be ambushed."

Dain scowled. "Good memory, but I make it about six hours away. And it's a sorry place for an ambush. Those small caves? Bats. Lots of bats. Easily disturbed. Flights of them seen for miles around when disturbed."

"Ah!" Hinnin nodded, quite pleased.

"Calbrinia? Didn't ya tell me you had a few dwarrowdams that might be interested in emigrating to Erebor with their families?" Dain stroked his thick beard as if asking a terribly casual question.

"Three." The dwarrowdam smiled winningly at him. "What with an unmarried king, two princes and at least five hundred dwarven warriors of the highest caliber? Of course they were interested."

"Were?" Hinnin asked, his mind tripping over the word spoken in the past tense.

"Were." Calbrinia said quite firmly. "By now they're already arrived at the Lonely Mountain. Even had a messenger to let us know the supplies, and my friends, arrived safely. Though it was a close matter from what I heard."

Dain stared at her a moment, clearly trying to wrap his thoughts around her words. "Why didn't you travel with them?"

"You weren't with that group."

Hinnin blinked, started to smile, then stopped. He blinked again and murmured something polite and turned away rather quickly. He hurried up beside Ahriline and a surprised Dis. "Pretend we speak."

Gloin's wife grinned with a small sigh of satisfaction. "At last."

Dis rolled her eyes, but did not object to the elf standing with her and her friend. Though she did her best not to speak with him more than necessary. All three couldn't help but look surreptitiously back at the duo. Dain was speaking, they could tell because his arms were moving in wide gestures while Calbrinia was simply smiling.

"You could already be in Erebor, but you waited for me? Why, because you told me you'd come back to the mountain kingdom with me? Now your three friends will be busy attracting all sorts of attention!" Dain ended his arm movements, settling them at last on his hips.

Calbrinia took a moment to observe and admire the strong form of the dwarven leader in front of her. "That's not the attention I was hoping for."

Dain closed his eyes and sighed. "I admit to being flattered, but I'm satisfied with my life as it is." He admitted to himself that he'd realized she'd been flirting with him, but had pushed the idea to the side almost from the start. "You're beautiful, brave and strong. But I am not looking."

The dwarrowdam, instead of being taken aback, smiled most brilliantly. Dain frowned, not expecting that reaction.

"Satisfied? Ready to declare yourself old and sit by the fire with your feet up?" It was a most deliberate taunt.

Dain knew her words for a trap and still could not stop himself from walking right in, unwilling to let that image stand. "I am not near ready for milk soaked in bread!" He mentioned a derogatory meal that to a dwarrow was meant to invoke feelings of great age and helplessness.

"You need a family, sons!" Calbrinia pressed forward.

Dain waved one irritated arm in general, frowning as he stared at the dwarrow-maiden before him. She was beautiful, though in an understated way. Clean lines and strength, classic features and rich, chestnut colored hair twisted sleekly into intricate braids all pinned up to expose a lovely neck and curly sideburns. She wasn't beautiful in a delicate sense, but as a force to be reckoned with, attractive beyond measure to Ironfoot's way of thinking.

"You think not? Your heirs were Thorin and his sister-sons. Now there is Erebor. And well …" She twitched her head in Hinnin's general direction, reminding Dain that Kili's availability to ascend any dwarrow leadership position was questionable at the moment.

The Iron Hills leader grimaced, cursing roundly under his breath, but in the Common tongue since he knew of Hinnin's excellent hearing. He wanted to deny that Kili's mixed bloodlines changed nothing, but it simply wasn't true. He found it changed nothing in his fondness for his young kin, but he was a realist. Dain knew full well there would be dwarrow out there, even in his own ranks, that would find it nigh impossible to follow someone other than wholly dwarven.

"Thorin could marry and have his own sons." Calbrinia said thoughtfully. "Leaving you Prince Fili as your heir, but what if he chooses otherwise? Or if he has a daughter instead?"

Dain closed his eyes, suddenly realizing he'd not thought through this at all. Not with the immediacy of needing to fetch his cousin Dis. The reclamation of Erebor truly did throw a spanner in the works, at least as far as succession went in both the Lonely Mountain and the Iron Hills. In that instant he knew his counselors and advisors would be foaming at the mouths to nudge him strongly toward finding a spouse of his own. Again. He'd fought this battle many times previously with them, and as long as Fili and Kili were good strong candidates to inherit, it had held the advisors at bay. No longer.

"And ye want to be the Lady of the Iron Hills?" He spoke rather gruffly.

"Nay. I just want the Ironfoot. If the Hills come with him, I can't help it." Calbrinia laid out her hopes before him, knowing she was making herself vulnerable before him. "Remember, I sent my friends off to seek the eyes and attention of a king, two princes, and five-hundred warriors. I eschewed a chance at Erebor's coffers and treasures, so that I could possibly tempt you."

Tempt him? Oh, she was damnably tempting alright. Dain snorted and nodded.

"The Iron Hills are respectable and prosperous, but a chance to be the Lady of the Silver Fountains? To sit beside the King Under the Mountain?"

Dain shook his head at her. "Why did you turn away from that chance?"

"I've turned down several in my life." Calbrinia said without false modesty. "Because none could live up to what I wanted. I'd heard tales of you, of course. But never dreamed to meet you, or be tempted by you. Until chance put you in my father's home."

"Irresistible am I?" The dwarrow leader mocked.

"Yes." She said with simple honesty.

Suddenly, Dain felt in a way he'd never thought possible. Like prey. He blinked rather rapidly, surprised and yet flattered beyond telling. Her honesty he did not doubt, but, he frowned. "You haven't met the king and his heirs, not yet."

Calbrinia's rich dark eyes glittered for a second, showing she was plotting something. The Ironfoot relaxed on the inside, waiting to hear what she'd come up with. "So. I meet the king and his two heirs, and if they don't catch my eye?"

Dain frowned, nodding even as he did so. Although he was the one who'd been pushing her to meet young Fili, suddenly the idea seemed less palatable to him. He nodded.

"My eyes are already affixed." The dwarrowdam chided him gently, her gaze clearly on him. "No one to my mind comes even close."

"Erebor's heirs are rich beyond measure, heroes to their people, young and handsome." Dain countered.

"The Ironfoot has no peer, is handsome in the extreme, and he is in his prime. Also a hero, oh such a hero." Her voice nearly purred as she spoke.

Dain's chest puffed out, even as he mocked himself in the depths of his mind. He had no self-doubts, and only a tiny portion of humility. He was prideful, stubborn and unbending. And damned flattered.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"He is angry." Gloin mused, watching as Crown Prince Fili stalked toward the library.

Thorin grunted. In the past week he'd grown tired of hearing how 'Saruman says' this or that whenever speaking with his elder sister-son. Though he could not fault the words offered nor the advice given. It was more a disquiet on how Fili was looking to the wizard at all. "He doesn't trust me anymore."

"Nonsense." Balin sputtered, appalled as he looked up from his sheaf of notes. "He's always looked up to you!"

Thorin shook his head, not arguing. But in his heart he knew that he'd broken something dear and precious when he'd sailed toward Erebor from Lake Town without his two heirs. Yes, the decision had been pragmatic, and most likely influenced by the dragon-fever that had near destroyed his sanity once the mountain had been reclaimed. But not entirely. Kili had been sore wounded, unable to keep up. Dying. And Thorin knew he'd pushed the lad to the side as easily as a game piece upon a board.

To his shame, the king acknowledged now how his heart and mind had been taken over by the quest, and greed, like a sickness. He'd been wrong to put the call of the mountain over the blood of his family. He'd since apologized to both of his sister-sons. But Fili, oh Fili. While the prince had accepted the words, the wound had gone too deep. His blond lion would still fight for him, stand with him, even die for him. Maybe even eventually forgive. But Thorin knew deep in his heart that Fili would never forget.

Gloin sighed next to him, his thoughts probably running parallel to his kings as evidenced by his next statement. "If you'd left Fili behind instead of his brother, he'd have found it easier to deal with."

Thorin nodded. So true. The blond would have more readily forgiven his uncle if the hurt had been directed only at him, and not toward Kili.

"Prince Fili has done a most excellent job with the new warning bell system." Balin supplied hesitantly, not wanting to trod on the king's emotions.

"He would." Thorin sighed heavily. "He excels at whatever he tries his hand to, a most worthy heir." He turned back to his advisors with a still heavy heart.

"Kili has again asked what he can work on for you." Balin said, his voice quiet.

Thorin smiled wearily. "He spends all morning with that elvish father of his, working his mind and body to the point of exhaustion. Then works each afternoon with the Lady of Light learning the Maker only knows what. What does he want to be in charge of?"

"Anything you'd ask of him." Balin said, his voice still quiet, but with a firmness as well. It had been a week since he'd found the lad sitting tight with the elf lord, Celeborn. A week in which he'd seen the young prince grow both more relaxed with his elvish relatives, and yet almost more desperate to be of use within Erebor. "I think it grates on him."

"I know, I know." Thorin sighed and ran a hand over his hair, feeling the lack of sleep that worries over his reclaimed kingdom caused.

Gloin watched with cool eyes, then pursed his lips. "A young prince chafing at the lack of responsibility, wanting to do more, always. Not realizing that the learning he is offered is training as well."

"I said I know." Snapped Thorin. "Kili will be fine."

"I wasn't talking about Kili." The red-bearded dwarrow smiled sadly. "I was remembering you, back before. Arguing with your father in front of Thror. Demanding more responsibility, and how angry you were when they foisted you off on smaller tasks."

Balin actually chuckled at the memory, while the current king turned widened eyes on his cousin. Gloin held up his hands to show himself unarmed. "It's not only when he glowers that Kili reminds me of you. Elf blood or no, he's a lot like you used to be."

"I was never so reckless." Thorin groused, though he conceded the point with a nod of his head. "Nor as big a flirt."

"Speaking of which, when does the she-elf return?" Gloin asked blandly, keeping his expression neutral. He of all the king's former Company still had reservations about the courtship between elf and dwarrow. Half-dwarrow. He sighed.

"Sometime this afternoon, if all is on schedule." Balin answered for the king. "I wonder how they found the welcome in Mirkwood."

"Standing, is all I can hope for. Or at least not imprisoned." Thorin amended with a low growl, though his mind was still on Gloin's comments. "You think I should give Kili more responsibility? He's stretched thin as it is."

The red-haired dwarrow shrugged. "He chafes, just as you did. Thrain was the heir. There was little for you to do but learn. That's all he's doing as well."

Thorin's memories went back to those days before Smaug. He rarely thought about that time anymore, the losses he'd faced still stung. Yet he could remember the taste of bitterness when his biggest responsibility was to stand beside the throne and listen. Not that anyone sought out his counsel afterwards, certainly not King Thror. His father had listened to his observations on the meetings, but more to glean the level of his son's understanding and not for his ideas. "How's my schedule today?"

"Busy." Balin sighed. "And Bombur needs to speak with you about the forge repairs. Most urgent to get those up and running. But the resources are stretched, what with the added problems of having to hunt down the Earth Mover spawn that has been making merry within our mines."

"Have Fili and Kili join me this afternoon, along with the healers." Thorin said on impulse. He'd originally left himself out of those dealings, but perhaps he needed to touch base with both of his heirs.

Balin bowed, making notes in the margins of his schedule.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

With an almost preternatural awareness, Fili looked up just as Kili entered the king's study. They were the first to arrive, though Balin had bustled in but a moment ago, muttering under his breath and leaving a large pile of correspondence upon Thorin's grand desk.

Kili flashed a quick grin at his brother, whose own smile answered without hesitation. "You too? I thought I was being trounced for some bit of mischief." He jumped up carelessly to sit on the edge of his uncle's desk, swinging one booted foot.

"What bit of mischief?" Fili asked, his smile growing. "And why wasn't I invited?"

The young brunet prince shrugged. "Inadvertent. I haven't done anything lately. Can't think of what I might have done wrong." Actually he'd been hoping Thorin had an assignment for him.

"Tauriel is still out, expected back sometime early this afternoon I believe. So, you're probably being warned about future mischief." Fili pointed out, his dimples evident as he laced his fingers behind his head, stretching back in his seat.

Kili's eyebrows furrowed for a moment as he considered his brother's words. "Maybe." He allowed, then pointed at the blond. "So why are you here? Things moving along with Erelinde?"

Fili's smile dimmed, but didn't leave. "Slowly." He admitted.

A slow blooming smile lit Kili's face as he teased his older sibling. "She let you kiss her yet?"

"You walking without pain yet?" Snapped Fili, instantly irritated because no, Erelinde hadn't agreed to courtship, or kissing, as of yet.

Kili didn't lose his grin even as he shook his head in denial. "She's letting you escort her to dinner pretty regularly lately. Even saw you walking the battlements together. Hand in hand." He offered the sop to his brother's pride, giving what support he could. "I like her."

Slightly mollified, Fili gave a stiff nod of his neck, then relented. "The healers agree to let you try that waking-up potion the Blacklocks tried to use on Thorin?"

Now, Kili's smile did slip away as quickly as chalk could be wiped away from slate. He sighed unhappily. "They claim there might be side effects, and that it could make matters worse."

Both brothers fell silent as the door to the study opened again. As Thorin walked into the study they both straightened their posture. But it wasn't until he stopped and stared at each one in turn that they stood up, facing him.

"Uncle." Kili said quietly.

"King Thorin." Fili said with more formality. "Balin."

The dwarven ruler frowned, though to which title neither was quite sure. "You arrived early." He said with a gruff, sparse voice.

Balin greeted both lads warmly, though he used only a few words as he followed his king.

Fili frowned, shaking his head. "We're not that early." His voice stopped as he realized that Thorin hadn't been speaking to either of them. His lips flattened as Dwalin stalked into the study followed by Glorfindel and finally by a certain she-elf.

Kili's smile lit the room as he spied Tauriel, but her closed off expression quelled his joy slightly. His eyes flickered to the male elf's bland mask of indifference and then to Dwalin's deep scowl.

"We took few rest breaks. The horses will need special attention after our journey." Glorfindel gave a regal bend to his neck that was a bow, and yet wasn't. Something only the more ancient of the elves could accomplish.

"Problems?" Thorin queried, his glower in full force, his blue eyed gaze a living presence as he looked at each of the newcomers in their turn.

Both elves held silent, as if waiting for Dwalin to speak. But the bald, tattooed warrior had his jaw too tightly clenched for words.

Finally, the golden-haired hero of ages past sighed. "King Thranduil says he will not join the White Council. Yet I believe he will be here."

"Based on?" Fili asked, speaking without leave. Thorin did not reprimand him either.

"Personal experience with his prickly hide." Glorfindel sighed, making a vague gesture with his fingers and hand. "He will not let it pass that a Dwarf and a Human will sit on the council, especially not his nearest neighbors and only allies."

The word allies made Thorin's eyes narrow, but he let that comment pass as well. He affixed his eyes on his long-time friend and fellow dwarrow warrior. "Dwaliln, you disagree?"

"He should be shot through with arrows, then hung upside down over our deepest mining pits to let the blood drain dry." The son of Fundin announced in his deep voice.

Glorfindel's eyebrows raised with some surprise, while a hint of a smile traced the lines of his mouth but never fully materialized. "Inventive."

"You knew he was going to be arrogant and a trial." Thorin eyed his friend cautiously. "What has you so riled?"

Kili kept trying to catch Tauriel's green eyed gaze, but she resolutely would not look in his direction. He frowned, uneasy.

"Intolerable." Dwalin finally coughed, then turned to stare stonily at the she-elf by his side. He pointed one thick, knobby finger at Tauriel, making Kili stiffen with sudden alertness. "How does she rank?"

The red-head kept her gaze up, not lowered with subservience, which Thorin mutely approved even as he turned his glower upon her. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." Glorfindel answered when it became apparent that Tauriel was not going to answer.

"AND THAT'S THE DAMNED PROBLEM!" Dwalin roared. "It's enough to make a dwarf lose his hair!"

Kili glowered while Fili bit his lip to keep from pointing out the obvious to the already bald warrior.

"Don't yell at her!" Barked the younger heir to Erebor, he stalked forward to stand toe to toe with Dwalin, now even in height though the older dwarrow was still the broader of the two.

Balin pushed between his brother and the young prince with surprising strength, separating them as best he could. Fili assisted by reaching over and tugging Kili back a step or two.

Neither Kili nor Dwalin dropped their pugnacious gazes, not until King Thorin roared loudly enough that two of Dain's soldiers peeked into the study to be assured all was well.

"Shut that door!" Barked the king. When no one moved he raised one eyebrow until Fili looked pleadingly at Balin. The older advisor still had his hand on his brother's chest, although he wasn't physically holding him back. Just as Fili's hold on his brother was nothing more than symbolic.

Glofindel sighed and walked over to the door in question. "With me inside or out?"

"Were you in the Mirkwood?" Thorin asked silkily. "Then inside!" He paused, realizing he had no authority whatsoever over the golden-haired warrior. With great effort he calmed his voice to something approaching diplomacy. "If you would be so accommodating."

Glorfindel glanced back sourly at Tauriel's back and finally made the decision not to leave her on her own with only the dwarves. He shut the door, staying in the study. He leaned against his arm as he propped himself up against the closed exit. "I don't know what the problem is." He admitted.

Dwalin kept scowling as Thorin walked to stand in front of him, though the warrior didn't take his eyes off of Kili as the lad looked ready to explode. The king waited, though not quite with patience.

Finally, the bald warrior bared his teeth. "Is that red-headed she elf …what rank does she hold?"

"Under you." Thorin said, wondering how Tauriel had stepped over her bounds. "She was to listen to you."

"I did not disobey him." The red-head said quietly, surety in every word she spoke.

"She is older than I, by hundreds of years." Dwalin choked out.

Balin sighed, closing his eyes as he fought to understand. "Perhaps our elvish friends …" he stressed that last word. "Should know that dwarves are brought up to strongly listen to and respect their elders."

Glorfindel looked puzzled as he walked back toward the main group. "I've seen no evidence of deference by any dwarf, maid or dwarrow, to any of the elves. All of us are older."

Thorin was starting to understand, if only a little. He leaned back against his desk, rubbing his chin with agitation. "Kili respecting Elladan is expected. Not only is the elf is father, most likely, but he is also older. Respect is not the same as obedience. And the rules for family are different, actually. It can get complicated."

"The problem is with THAT one!" Again Dwalin pointed at Tauriel almost accusingly, drawing closed teeth growling from Kili as he leaned forward as if to attack.

"Down!" Thorin ordered, and when his command did not have the desired effect, he shoved Kili back and did some pointing of his own. He glared at his youngest heir until the youth backed down slightly. He turned back to Dwalin. "Explain."

"Is she someone older than I, an elder?" Dwalin snarled. "Or younger? Subordinate or outsider? Guest or what? What rank does she hold?"

Tauriel's breathing increased, but she still held herself still.

Dwalin pointed at her again. "Look! She's doing it now!"

"What?" Fili shouted, still at sea and not understanding.

Thorin held up one hand and sighed. "Alright. Royal decree. Tauriel is wearing a nashatal braid and beads, she sports Kili's clasp. We have no precedence for this, considering her age. But as I understand it, she is considered young among the elves?" He looked toward Glorfindel for confirmation.

Unsure of the conversational currents, and not wanting to make matters worse, the golden haired elf winced even as he nodded.

"How young?" Balin asked.

"Of age, obviously. But very young as our kind counts such things. Though her lack of years do not make her lesser." Glorfindel tried to straddle an invisible line the meaning of which he had no clue.

Thorin nodded and shrugged. "I decree that for Dwarven purposes, Tauriel's age is meaningless. She is nashatal, and living in Erebor. Being courted here. She ranks just under Dwalin as far as patrols go, and will be obeyed as such. I have found her to be honorable and unless proven otherwise, trustworthy."

The red head looked up in surprise. It almost sounded like a compliment. For the first time her eyes sought those of Kili's. He smiled encouragingly at her, though his color was still high with temper.

"No one but one of my original company may give her orders, unless they originate from me." Thorin continued, then took a deep breath. "As for age, I declare it that she is to be treated as the same approximate age as Kili."

The reactions to this announcement were varied. Fili actually stifled a laugh, having to cover his mouth at the confused expression on both of the elves faces. Kili's eyes were wide and his mouth dropped open for a moment, though he didn't look angry as such.

Balin shook his head and closed his eyes, then nodded, all silently.

Tauriel looked at each of the dwarves, but could find no understanding hidden in their faces. "What does that mean exactly? You can't change my age."

Glorfindel took in a breath, then puffed out his cheeks for a second, then he tilted his head and squinted. Finally he shrugged. "I think it means that they consider you an adult, but a young one. That they are trying to fit you into the Dwarven scheme of things. Not treat you like an outsider?" That last sentence sounded like a question, which indeed was the warrior's intent.

"It means lass, that Dwalin can yell at you without causing insult. As he outranks you. Technically." Balin waffled one hand back and forth as he gave her a sympathetic look. "That you're considered younger than he, despite the reality of your age."

"Why would Dwalin want to yell at me?" Tauriel asked, her green eyes cautious. "I have done nothing."

"EXACTLY!" The bald warrior roared. He turned on the red-headed maiden with dark intent. "Whilst in the Mirkwood you were insulted left and right and center! You did NOTHING!"

Dawning realization left Glorfindel looking up towards the ceiling as he started to catch on.

"But …I held my ground." Tauriel said firmly. She looked toward Kili for support, only to find her love scowling most atrociously.

"Who insulted her?" The youth roared, his earlier anger nothing compared to now. "WHO?"

Tauriel blinked rather rapidly, looking toward Fili or Thorin to calm down the dark-haired prince. But those two looked just as angry, and were staring at her. "It was nothing." She tried to deflate the rising emotions within the room.

Balin sighed most unhappily. "Ah lass, what might be nothing to you, is a dread insult to us. And like as not," he nodded toward her nashatal braid displayed openly alongside her face. "Ye are counted among us, almost."

"An insult to you, is an insult to your entire family." Fili ground his teeth together, his blue eyes flashing darkly. It was clear he was including the dwarves in that sentiment.

"It was but a trifle." Tauriel tried again.

Thorin glared at her. "If anyone insulted your former king, would you have let it slide?"

"No." Tauriel admitted rather slowly. "But those insults were to me personally, and we were in the Mirkwood on the king's business. Your business. I would have been derelict in allowing insults to me influence the needs of you and your kingdom."

This stopped the dwarrow in their mental tracks. Thorin was the one blinking rapidly now, as he reordered his thoughts.

Glorfindel sighed. "Elves take insults seriously, but at the same time, we serve. Unless the insult is too egregious."

"Would you have put up with being so treated?" Dwalin rounded on the golden-haired warrior.

"No." Glorfindel admitted, not wanting to explain the difference between High Elf and Silvan elf.

"But it was alright to let her be so treated?" Kili said accusingly.

The golden-haired elf held up his hands, a bit shocked to suddenly be the point of all the dwarven anger in the room. "She did not take umbrage, unless she reacted I had no recourse."

"Nor I." Admitted an extremely grumpy Dwalin.

Thorin crossed his arms and turned to stare at Tauriel, whose green eyes were wide and round at the moment. "I don't care your former rank, or any caste system of the elves. If you're going to be related to the royal family of Erebor, you will treat that as a privilege and it will be your right to be treated with respect."

"We can't have Thranduil insulting her." This from a still highly angry Kili.

Tauriel suddenly shook her head emphatically. "Erebor's needs over my own. Most of the insults offered were to me personally, for leaving the elves and the Mirkwood in preference for this Dwarven kingdom. They were hurt, feeling betrayed."

"Yer more accepting than I, lass." Dwalin crossed his arms, though his towering rage was banking down a bit.

"She has a small point." Thorin admitted. "Having left their kingdom for ours, if she fought each and every one who was hurt by that, there would be no one left."

"Not quite." Tauriel allowed with a small wince. "I am not that important."

"You are now." Balin pinned her with a look. "Kin that we are, or will be soon enough."

The red-head looked badly shaken by all that had happened in the last few minutes. Thorin sighed, taking pity on the rather young elf who was several times his age. "You represent the royal family now." He tapped the side of his head, as if to indicate her braids. "If you are treated badly, it is a poor reflection on Kili, and us."

Glorfindel suddenly winced. "And Elrond's family."

"We are not yet married!" Protested the she-elf.

"Will you have me?" The question was asked point blank, making no deference to the others in the room.

Immediately all dwarven eyes except Kili's was on the ceiling as they tried to ignore the couple. Glorfindel openly watched until Dwalin nudged him strongly in the side with a thick elbow. The elf grinned. "We're still here." He whispered.

Dwalin grunted. "Underground kingdoms. Sometimes privacy is but an illusion no matter how large the mountain. Now look up." Obediently Glorfindel did as requested, though his grin spread wider.

Tauriel looked around in exasperation at all the people in the study trying to ignore them. She threw a pleading glance toward Kili.

But the dark-haired prince smiled at her, making her breath catch in her throat. "Will you have me?" He asked rather bluntly.

"I would have this discussion in private." She replied a bit caustically.

Balin smiled at the ceiling.

Kili put his fingers to his hair, tugging loose another bead. He gestured toward Tauriel's nashatal braids. Her fingers went to them automatically, though not to tug any loose, but almost in protection. "What?"

"I want the second bead."

Green eyes pleaded with him to desist. His smile only grew as he expertly released another jeweled clasp from his hair, this one of exotic jade from the Easterling kingdoms.

Tauriel shook her head at him, taking a step back.

Fili frowned up at the ceiling, as if sensing her retreat. The elf stilled. She sighed. "I don't know what the second bead means."

"It means you will allow no others to court you, unless you give the clasp back to me." Kili held out the jade piece, his eyes dark and enticing as he watched her. "It means that an insult to you can be answered by either one of us."

"And that I could answer any insult offered to you?" She asked pointedly.

Thorin blinked up at the ceiling as he noted the fierceness in the she-elf's response. He suddenly smiled, relaxing a bit. "She won't fight for her own honor, but will for his?"

Dwalin merely sighed. "Children."

"Do we have to keep looking at the ceiling?" Glorfindel asked lazily.

"Yes." Every dwarf responded.

Tauriel licked her lips and shook her head at Kili. "Not until we're in private."

"Alright." The dark-eyed prince responded, letting the elf relax a moment. But only for a moment. He flashed a grin at her. "By your leave, uncle." He said, grabbed Tauriel's hand and pulled her toward the door.

Fili started laughing even before the duo exited. He waited until the door closed again before bringing his gaze down from above. "You do realize, that we still haven't had the discussion you called us here for in the first place."

Thorin sighed and nodded with a small grimace of disgust. "I know."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The scene with Dwalin and Tauriel was what was holding up the previous chapter. No matter how I tried, it wouldn't work though I still knew I wanted it in the story. I held my breath when I tried to write it again, but this time I only needed one major delete-rewrite to get where I wanted. Victory! I hope so anyway.


	42. In which Tauriel offers a gift

Tauriel let Kili drag her out into the hallway from Thorin's study, but no further. She stopped, and since he was holding her hand he was forced to either stop or relinquish his hold.

Prince Kili stood in the middle of the hallway, the couple's linked hands stretching out between them like a life line. He looked up into her set face and read her expression. The brunet deliberately bit back a sigh, giving her a small smile of encouragement. "If you want this conversation out here, that's fine with me."

"Kili." Her soft tone was no less a warning even with the lack of volume.

"Here." His smile only grew cheeky. "Or private."

Tauriel caught a few curious glances sent their way. She wondered if Kili began talking again would all of these busy dwarves stop from whatever they were doing and start staring at the ceiling?

She didn't ask the question aloud, she didn't have to. Kili read her quite well. "No, they'd just hurry on about their business faster so they don't get caught up in it all."

"But Erebor is so large, with so much privacy everywhere."

Kili's face clouded as he stepped back toward her. "It didn't use to be."

Tauriel winced, realizing that she'd judged the kingdom on current residents, not the population from before Smaug's desolation.

"Not to mention, when we were forced above ground, there wasn't enough room for all the refuges. Families lived together in very close quarters, sharing. When there were things to share." Kili's smile flashed up at her, then faded for a moment. "You learn to ignore a lot."

"I'm sorry." She breathed out on a whisper, realizing that she would ever be unable to fully grasp the suffering and loss the dwarves had faced once driven out of their kingdom.

Kili shook his head. "Don't take any of that upon yourself." He tugged gently on her hand. "But if you want real privacy …" His voice trailed off suggestively, tempting her with leaving the hallway behind.

Tauriel's mind was racing, but all she could focus on was she didn't want to be on public display. She nodded, and then was nearly pulled off her feet as Kili took off down the hallway with her travelling in his wake.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"What is it you needed to speak with us about?" Fili asked his uncle, the king. "I'm running behind."

Thorin turned away from staring at the door where Kili had dragged his elf away. He gave his crown prince a lengthy look, then slowly raised one eyebrow, showing he knew that Fili's schedule was clear at the moment.

The blond didn't get embarrassed at getting caught out, in fact he relaxed a little as he gave a little brag. "Erelinde is expecting me. She agreed to a tour of the repairs in the forge work areas."

Balin nodded sagely, trying to hold back a smile. "Progress." He said, sounding both proud and pleased.

Dwalin's face scrunched up, looking a bit lost. "It is?"

Balin looked at the king and then back over toward his own brother. Neither male seemed to understand. Having been through courtship and marriage, while the other two had chosen never to wed, the white-haired dwarf shrugged. "Lots of nifty dark corners, and plenty of excuses to hold her hand, or even hold onto the entire dwarrowdam, as he escorts her through the work areas."

Thorin nodded, though he didn't look quite convinced. "Why would she agree to such a tour? I did not know her interest to lie with the mining arts so much."

"For time alone with Fili, of course." Balin shrugged happily. "There would be little other reason, which is why I call it progress."

The crown prince, though smiling, shook his head. "I invited her to see what her da has been working on. That's why she agreed to come out with me."

Dwalin's face cleared to his usual stern expression. "Clever." He admitted.

"All the more reason for this talk, then." Thorin sighed, turning toward his desk. He picked up one of two flagons of liquid. He tossed one to his sister-son. "Body of stone."

Fili grimaced. He knew without asking what it contained, for it was something he'd requested of the healers. His hand tightened on the flagon and he sighed, very unhappy and yet resigned.

Balin gave the young prince a sympathetic look. "It's not so bad."

"You had to take it?" Fili looked up with hope in his eyes.

The white-haired advisor sighed, giving a weak smile. "I hear it's not so bad."

Thorin turned his laugh into a harsh cough, not wanting to tread on Fili's already exposed nerves. The prince glared at him anyway, as if daring the king to comment.

Dwalin stepped bravely into the breach. "This drink has been used for every generation since the first fathers." He struck his fist against the heavy leathers and furs covering his burly chest. "It will only help you, lad."

Fili's bright eyes narrowed on the bald warrior. "You've never taken it."

The silence lasted a beat too long.

Those sapphire eyes widened to near impossible size. "Did you?"

"No." Dwalin admitted, shaking his head. "Never felt the need to marry. Just …why are you hesitating?"

Fili grimaced, looking down at the container in his hands. He tightened his grip as he shook his head. "I like the way she makes me feel." He admitted in a rather quiet voice.

Thorin nodded, then cut his eyes over toward Balin, willing the older dwarf to speak. He wasn't disappointed.

"Lad, that potion doesn't interfere with your feelings for the sweet dam, not one bit. It only gives you more time to woo her into returning your feelings. Keeps your body as stone, so it doesn't wake up too fast and press her for an answer that she's not ready to give."

Fili sighed. This really wasn't the same as what the Blacklock heiress had attempted to pull on Uncle Thorin. Waking up a dwarrow without his consent or knowledge was evil, a vile thing. Conversely, keeping his body under control until Erelinde had a chance to consider his suit was a prudent thing. Still. "I don't like it."

Balin cracked a weak chuckle. "No one ever does. In a perfect world a couple will fall in love at the exact same time. But when the dam is unsure, it does a dwarf no good to 'wake up' too early and spoil everything." He left unsaid the next part.

Thorin didn't. "It will also help if she decides not to allow this courtship."

Both Balin and Dwalin turned to stare wide-eyed at the king for that harsh bit of truth.

Surprisingly it was Fili who, instead of getting angry, finally relaxed. He nodded cannily at his mother's brother. "Do you think she has a chance to get away?" He said with a hint of his usual cockiness.

Thorin stared meaningfully into his nephew's gaze. "She'd better."

Sobering, Fili blinked rapidly, clearly unsure what his uncle meant by that.

"That's why I want to talk to you. You've done a brilliant job of herding and enticing Erelinde out of her crafting rooms. Well done."

The words of praise didn't alleviate the prince's sense of dread. "But?"

"But you have to give her a chance to think, to breathe. Dwarrow marry only once, and only when in love. But history tells us that love isn't automatic between couples. Sometimes one feels a certain way, but the other doesn't. Forcing the situation does no one any good."

Fili blinked as he nodded, only slightly abashed. "This isn't the same as what happened to produce our cousins." He said in oblique reference to Dori, Nori and Ori and their branch of the family tree. Yet he stressed the words that acknowledged the three as part of Durin's Line.

Thorin caught the support for the three brothers and gave a quick nod as his eyes flashed with approval at his heir. Still, he hesitated. "Fili. You almost never fail once you put your mind on something. Just remember, real love can't be forced. Let her come to you. Let her choose, instead of merely cornering the lass." He pointed at the flagon containing the brew that would help. "Give her space."

"I would never bully her into something she doesn't want." Fili avowed, even as he pulled the cork loose from the flagon in his hands.

The three older dwarrow watched the blond drink the potion down in three large gulps without hesitation, wiping his mouth with his sleeve when finished. Fili then nodded at each one of them in turn, lastly settling on his uncle. "I won't let you down."

"You never have." Thorin said with deep conviction ringing in his voice, his eyes intense on his heir. Then he added a most surprising admission, one atypical of the king. "I was the weak one."

The sons of Fundin shared a look filled with awkwardness and desire to leave the room.

Sensing his cousin's unease, the king spoke. "Stay." Thorin waved one hand at Dwalin and Balin. He sighed and rolled his shoulders trying to relieve the tension there. "I need to hear your impressions of Thranduil and his court."

Taking the change in subject and running with it, Dwalin snorted. "What court? It's Thranduil and only Thranduil. If he takes anyone's council, I saw no evidence of it."

Fili stood, knowing his uncle was not going to speak any more on the subject of Lake Town, not today. Then again, admitting he was 'weak' was a huge thing to Thorin. And unstable ground for them both. "Do you need me further?"

"I'd like you to check in with the hunters, see if they've found any more traces of those Earth Mover spawn." Thorin sent an approving look at his heir from the corner of his eyes.

"Kili has the best eyes." Fili said thoughtfully. "Could use him on that." His eyes fell onto the second flagon on his uncle's desk. Suddenly, something clicked within his mind, like a puzzle piece he didn't know existed sliding into focus. He hissed in absolute shock approaching horror.

Thorin looked up at the sound, then followed the blond's gaze to the second potion still upon his desk.

"That's your solution?" Fili sound stunned, and completely appalled. "He won't do it. You know he won't do it."

"He will."

At Thorin's resolute tone, Fili's blue eyes widened with worry. "No, no he would fight it with everything he's got!"

Thorin turned to face his heir face to face. "This discussion isn't meant to be had with you."

Fili wasn't breathing as he stared into his uncle's eyes, reading nothing there but unbending will. "Haven't you betrayed him enough?" The words were quietly spoken, but Thorin flinched as if he'd been struck.

Balin and Dwalin didn't even look at each other as they individually bowed and headed for the door. For this discussion staring at the ceiling wouldn't be enough.

"Stay." Thorin barked out the order, stilling the heirs of Fundin in their places. He never took his eyes off of Fili, however. "That is between me and your brother, and we have spoken on it. He holds nothing against me."

"Kili never holds grudges." The crown prince said through gritted teeth. Unsaid was that he himself could, and did, hold onto things.

"Take your body of stone and go woo your princess." Thorin said pointedly, his attitude unyielding.

Fili's jaw flexed as he fought to hold onto his temper, he took a deep breath in and turned away, stalking toward the door.

"Sister-son." Thorin called to him once the prince had his hand on the door. Fili did not turn around. "Your brother is in pain and not reacting well. The healers, not I, made this suggestion to give him ease and them time to consider the options."

It wasn't an apology, but Fili knew how his uncle hated to explain himself. Still, he couldn't bring himself away from the edge of his anger. He did manage to nod as he exited the study. "He'll hate it."

Balin and Dwalin said nothing in the wake of the prince's exit. They waited for their king. Thorin did not leave them hanging long. He turned toward the bald warrior. "Tell me of Thranduil."

Balin pressed his lips together. Save him from the pride of the line of Durin. "The lad …."

Thorin sneered and shook his head. "Kili will do as he's told, and Fili will calm down." He turned back toward Dwalin. "Thranduil." He demanded.

Balin sighed unhappily, but settled in to listen to his own brother's telling of the visit to the Mirkwood. Though he couldn't help but feel his king was making a grave mistake.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel looked around in some surprise. "Is this …?"

Kili nodded, gesturing grandly for her to take a seat on a sturdy chair that looked out of place on the stone ledge. "Secret door. Over there is the secret stairway leading down. I think Balin added the chairs, he likes to come out here to be alone at times."

"Secrets aren't secrets if you share them." The she-elf looked around with keen interest. "And I thought that door could only be opened on one certain day."

The dark-eyed prince grinned and perched himself standing next to Tauriel's chair, one booted foot on a rough rock as he leaned in toward her. "That door is now the subject of many, many new dwarrow songs of bravery and daring. It will never be a secret again, though without the key no one can use it."

Tauriel's eyebrows rose and she gave a small smile. "Didn't we just come through it?"

"From the inside. It always worked from the inside, but getting in from the outside was the problem. And anyone who'd known about it had been dead. Took a secret map, with secret writing, with a lost key in order to gain entrance again. Oh, and a brave little hobbit." He flashed a wide grin. "Thus the songs."

"Ah." The she elf ran a nervous hand down the length of her forest green skirt. "Kili, I …"

"Wait." He hurried to interrupt her. "Don't turn me down yet."

"I'm not turning you down, not really." Tauriel reassured him quickly.

Kili gave her a disbelieving look. "You're nervous, and having Dwalin yell at you, and not knowing our customs." He reached out and drew forth her nashatal braid, giving it a soft tug.

Her hand rose to catch his hand in her hair, stopping him and yet not.

"I've said the words, but I don't know if you really have taken it in." Kili took a deep breath and let it out carefully. His dark eyes pinned her with a look so intimate it was nearly painful. "I love you."

The she-elf stopped breathing, unable to look away from his gaze. It was if the world simply stopped, and there was only the two of them and this moment stretching out forever.

"I love you and I offered you a chance to leave, you did not take it." Kili continued, his voice smooth as satin, but intense with deep emotion.

"No." She agreed, her word a mere's baby breath upon the air between them.

"And you love me."

Tauriel's jewel-bright eyes flashed a bit at his presumption. Kili gave her a slightly mocking look as he chuckled. "I know you love me because you're here. Wearing this." He tugged once more on the nashatal braid he was still holding. "Letting idiots in the Mirkwood insult you and refusing to take umbrage because of how it would affect Uncle Thorin and Erebor. And me."

"Kili …"

He blew a breath out over her lips, making her pause with surprise. "You love me." The words were said with bone-deep certainty which she could not deny.

"Yes." Her green eyes closed for a moment, before reopening upon his face before her own. "I do love you."

"Will you allow any other to court you? Consider anyone else?"

Letting out her breath, she smiled sadly at him. "There is no other, there will be no other." Strange how rapid her heartbeat felt all of a sudden.

"Then, this …" One finger shifted minutely and tapped the second lowest bead on her dwarven braid. "Belongs to me."

Tauriel stared into his eyes, feeling the world moving to swiftly beneath her feet. She waited with a near ringing in her ears, but he made no further move. Finally she took in a new breath, easing the tightness in her chest. He was waiting for her, not taking from her, simply waiting. But if she knew instinctively that if she decided to deny him that second bead she'd have to have a damned fine reason.

At the moment she couldn't think of any reason, not even a poor one.

Kili felt his smile grow as her hand fell away from her braid, leaving him in ownership over her hair, and thus, her future.

Slowing, as if dealing with a skittish animal that might bolt, the brunet dwarrow loosened her braid. The first piece fell into his hand, the clasp he'd given her in front of everyone. His clever fingers kept moving and soon the second bead was loose.

Tauriel watched as Kili pulled out the jade clasp he'd taken earlier from his own hair, a small clever little piece of jewelry. Jade. A stone not found within Erebor's mines, she knew. An expensive bauble worth more than anything she'd ever owned. He held it up so she could see it well. "Before you accept this, I need to tell you something." His voice sounded so serious, almost dire, that she drew back to study his face.

The red-head waited, her nashatal braid hanging only partly done up. "The third bead?"

"Are you offering?" He teased, then shook his head. "No. It's … Tauriel. I …I know you want to see more of the world. Travel."

The she-elf reached out and caught his hand, the one still holding her beads. She wrapped both of her palms around his fingers. "This is your home." Tauriel interrupted him, seeing where he was heading.

Kili smiled gratefully, relieved that she could see so deeply into his heart. "Not forever."

Tauriel didn't need to hear the rest, she just knew. "Fili." When his brother no longer drew breath upon Arda, this mountain would cease to be a home to Kili. That would be when he'd be willing to travel the world.

The mixed-blood prince flashed her a thankful look as he pulled his hand away from hers. He held up the beads, hope and love in his gaze. "I do not mean to take your dreams from you."

"Your love is the dream. And I would not want to travel anywhere without you." Tauriel nodded at him and Kili grinned flat out, reaching once more for the ends of her braid.

"So, if the first bead is to mark courtship, and the second is for exclusivity in courting. The third is …?"

"Mine." Kili said, tongue in cheek.

The pretty she-elf laughed and nudged him playfully, making him drop the jade bead. "Look out!" He chided lovingly.

Tauriel watched him scanning the rocks on the ground, searching for the small jade piece. A bit of color caught her eye and she pointed just as Kili made a noise of discovery having seen it at the same time, already moving to pick it up.

"The third bead?" She asked again as Kili cleaned off and inspected the clasp. "What does it really mean?"

"It means you've accepted my suit and have agreed to marry me. We'd still have to wait, of course. For making plans, celebrations, my body to wake up, for guests to be invited. It just means that there is no one else for you but me, and you for me."

Kili smiled and looked up, his breath catching as he saw Tauriel now holding the third bead in the palm of her hand face up, looking at him. "There are three more beads after this? And unlike the first three, they all look the same." She pressed her hand out towards him, presenting that third bead like a gift.

The prince couldn't seem to think straight, his eyes glued to her face as if she was the most beautiful thing in the world. "Uhm?"

"You asked me if I could love you. Yes. You asked me if I would have you. Yes. There is no other."

Kili moved toward her, sinking to his knees next to her chair. Earnestly he stared directly into her eyes. "The final three beads are identical and are used in the wedding ceremony." He whispered hoarsely.

"Ah." She smiled at him, her outstretched hand still holding out the third nashatal bead like an offering.

Kili kept staring, finally he reached out for the third bead. "Why?" His fingers caressed hers for a second before he placed his palm next to her own. Tauriel tilted her hand and they both held their breaths as the third courting bead rolled over and into his.

Tauriel licked her lips, drawing a soft moan from her suitor. "Perhaps because you're right. It is already yours. You have my heart, what is a bead compared to that?"

"It won't be easy." He whispered, his fist closed around the small bead, and he drew it close to his body so that he was touching his chest above his heart.

"For either of us." She admitted, then smiled ruefully. "Like suddenly going from over 600 years old to a mere seventy-eight." Recalling how Dwalin had decided how to catalog her.

Kili chuckled at that comment. "You know, that's his way of accepting you, knowing how to approach you, how to deal with you. If he meant to keep you as a 'guest', then the issue never would have been brought up."

"I like him. I don't always understand him, but he is refreshingly straight forward." Tauriel's hand came up to cup the side of his face, running her soft fingers over the rough stubble there. "I am not always sure of all this, but when you are near I have no doubts."

"This third bead does not commit you, not until we have the wedding. Which may not be for a lengthy time." Kili grimaced unhappily at the thought of waiting.

"It's a symbol. A way of telling one and all that I do love you, and that we want to be married. For now, that is enough." Tauriel said gently, still running the pads of her fingers over the side of his face.

With great reluctance, Kili's hand rose to intercept hers. "That hurts."

"This?" Surprised, Tauriel's hand jerked back.

"No." Came the dry response as Kili sighed, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "Not my face." He caught her hand, bringing it back to touch his cheek, rubbing his face against her touch.

Green eyes dropped down his body, then froze around his mid-section, refusing to go further. Flushing slightly, she drew back as she apologized, understanding now what he'd meant.

Bringing to bear his recent training in focusing his mind, Kili ignored the severe itching and growing pain in his groin. Tangible evidence of the two sides of his nature clashing with each other.

"Perhaps …." Tauriel hesitated, not wanting to be separated from him. She bit her lip.

As if reading her thoughts, Kili's hand snaked out and caught her braid. Deftly he added in an onyx bead, along with the jade clasp and the original jeweled piece he'd already gifted her. "You're going nowhere."

"My presence causes you hurt."

"Your presence is my only joy." He told her plainly, bending slightly to catch her lowered gaze and staring into her jewel bright eyes. "I would be unable to bear it if you weren't here."

"But …"

"And, I hurt when I think about you. Not just when you're near. So leaving does me no good. Especially when I think about you all the time."

"What do the healers say?" Tauriel asked, hesitant and uncertain now that she knew he was in pain.

"Bah." Kili dismissed the topic completely as he deftly finished up her nashatal braid, now sporting three of his beads in her hair. "Now, you need to put these in my hair."

Tauriel took the three beads, ones originally hers, looking down at them in chagrin. "I don't know how."

Kili knelt beside her, pulling forth a small section of her lengthy hair. "Like this." He demonstrated, moving his fingers slowly through her tresses. "Your hair is so soft. This was a bad idea." He winced as if the pain was getting worse.

"Love?"

"Actually, I can put the beads in my own hair. I just wanted an excuse for you to touch me." Kili admitted roughly, moving away rather awkwardly.

Tauriel gave him a scolding look full of love and sympathy. "Got caught in your own trap?"

Kili nodded abruptly, standing and pacing away from her to look out over the view from the rock ledge. He blew out a harsh breath, putting his hands on both of his knees and bending forward, trying to relieve any of the aching pain and burning itching going on.

Tauriel stood up, hurrying over to his side. "Love?" He teased her. "That's not helping."

Only, the she elf wasn't saying sweet things to him, nor touching him. Her focus was turned outwards with a fierce intensity. "Look." Tauriel pointed downward. "Someone's approaching Erebor."

Kili straightened immediately, biting back a curse as his body protested most strongly. He peered in the direction his own personal lode-stone had pointed. "Who?"

"Too far away." She sounded apologetic for not being able to tell.

Both, in the privacy of their own minds, wondered if this was Dain bringing Dis back to the mountain of her birth. His mother. Elladan's wife.

Unspoken, both became nervous. Kili reached up and swiftly worked Tauriel's three beads into his braids. When he looked over at her, she was staring out over the land before them, as if trying to glean the identity of the new arrivals. "Come."

Tauriel looked down at the hand he was holding out for her. Her green eyes flicked up to see her nashatal beads gracing his hair, his braids. Dis. His mam. What would she think of a she-elf marrying her baby?

"Come, love." Kili offered his hand once more.

With nerves she'd never admit to, Tauriel put her hand in his, trusting that whatever happened next they really were in love. They could face anything as long as they were together.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"He's late."

An amused glance at her friend at Brunere stifling a laugh. "You're nervous."

Erelinde didn't even bother to respond to that comment. Truth was truth and she did not need to admit it aloud. She ran her hands down over the soft material of her skirt. She frowned as she considered the rather plain blue outfit. "Think this is the wrong color?"

"I think your choices are limited." Brunere said quietly, watching her friend happily. "Of us all, you packed the least amount of personal items to bring to Erebor. I believe you said it was more important to bring your crafting tools."

"It was, it was." Erelinde bit her lip gently. The other dwarrowdam thought to warn her not to do that, but perhaps slightly swollen lips would help with the evenings endeavor.

Suddenly the pretty crafter stopped and turned to look pleadingly at her friend. "Find him, tell him I don't feel well."

Brunere shook her head, not bothering to get up. "And here I thought you were worried about him being late. Besides, I wouldn't know where to find the prince."

"With the king, working on the forging work areas, oh or the library. He's been speaking a lot with that wizard. Perhaps he's getting ready, try his room." Erelinde counted off the places using her fingers.

"No." Brunere shook her head, quietly laughing as Erelinde shot her an actual dirty look. "Oh, so you have a temper after all?"

"I'm sorry!" The white-blond dwarrowdam near wailed, sinking to a seat.

"You'll wrinkle."

Erelinde jumped back up again, smoothing out her skirts.

Brunere sighed. "I was kidding. Look. Just go with him on this outing like he requested. You don't have to tell him that you're wanting a kiss tonight. He won't miss what he didn't know might happen."

"I'm acting like a ninny." Erelinde sighed, deliberately sitting down once more, regardless of any wrinkles. "I don't know what's happened to me. I haven't been able to focus on my crafting all week!"

"Then what's that?" Brunere pointed at the lacy ribbon entwining through her friend's intricate braids. Soft curls escaping at just the right spots to call attention to and frame her face.

"Not a commissioned piece!" Erelinde nearly wailed. "And not for my mastery collection either!"

"It's for Fili then?" The violet-eyed dwarrowdam asked, already guessing the answer.

The white-blond beauty stood and hurried over to the mirror propped on her dresser. The lacy ribbon was a pretty robin's egg blue and it matched her best dress perfectly. Wrapped in her braids as it was it looking really fetching. She hoped.

"You're late." Brunere commented with a soft smile.

"He's late." Erelinde countered, turning her head this way and that to inspect her reflection.

"No. You're late. Sealyn, Calbrinia and I went through all this about twenty years ago. It's about time you got here." The plain, yet comely, healer gave her friend a gentle look. "Well, not Calbrinia really. Though even she can get vain now and then."

"I'm not here. There." Erelinde clucked her tongue in agitation. "You know what I mean. I just …Fili won't go away. I thought if we kissed and there was nothing there, he'd understand and leave me to my crafting."

"Liar." Brunere yawned, ignoring the sharp look sent her way via the mirror's reflected image. "You're curious and want him to kiss you. End of story."

Erelinde sighed, turning as she leaned back on her dresser, letting it support her weight for the moment. "It's that obvious?"

"Yes." Brunere nodded, standing up finally. "And it's adorable and delicious and I'm sorry Sealyn and Calbrinia aren't here to see it. Rest assured I will tell them all about it."

A soft wail was the only response from the pretty crafter.

"Look. Just be yourself. Let him know that you find him interesting, he will take care of the rest."

"If he gets here." Erelinde sighed unhappily.

Brunere went over to the door, looking out into the hallway. She frowned, there was a lot of scurrying going on, but no crown prince. Stepping outside of her friend's room, she stopped the first dwarrow that glanced her way. "What's going on?"

"Arrivals to Erebor." Blushed the young dwarrow, having harbored a desire to meet any of the eligible dams since they had done their own arriving. He ducked his head. "Getting things ready."

Brunere nodded kindly and letting the young dwarrow go on about his business. She hadn't missed his slight blush, and it was endearing but her interest was lying in other directions these days. Indeed, she'd only last night practiced her nashatal braids, though hadn't the bravery necessary to actually wear them yet.

Lost in thoughts of the two or three dwarrow who were currently vying for her attention, she told Erelinde what she'd learned.

"Arrivals?" Erelinde nodded with a slight shrug. "That explains it, he's probably terribly busy. Doesn't have time to escort me through the forges." She sighed resolutely. "It was silly anyway. I was just having so much trouble focusing on my craft work, and it's all Prince Fili's fault!"

"Can't stop thinking about him?" Brunere teased.

"No!" Erelinde actually looked rather cross, like an angry baby bird. Her friend sighed. It wasn't fair that her friend was both beautiful and likeable.

"It's not his fault if you keep thinking of him." The apprentice healer chided most gently, and reasonably.

The white-blond dwarrowdam sent a wry look at her childhood friend. "He keeps coming around, that makes it his fault. Usually they give up by now and I have no trouble getting back to my crafting."

Brunere nodded in support, though she was quite certain that Erelinde was well and truly intrigued by the handsome prince. No one had ever had this affect upon her before. "You know, now that you've been out in public quite a bit, there's other suitors just waiting to catch your eye."

"What? No there's not." Erelinde shot another glance at the time piece sitting on her dresser.

Unsurprised, yet amused, Brunere shook her head. Leave it to the sweet blond to be completely unaware of the interest others had in her. She'd have to toughen up and start noticing things more if she married the crown prince. The violet-eyed dam frowned just a little at the thought. She had no doubt that Fili would protect anyone he married quite well, but the thought of Erelinde thrown in among the political animals of dwarven nobility was daunting.

"Perhaps you shouldn't pursue him."

Erelinde looked up, surprised by her friend's change in words. Always before she'd been urging her to see more of Fili. "Why?"

Brunere shrugged, not sure how to explain without hurting feelings. "New arrivals? Perhaps new dwarrowdams. Maybe someone among them will want to be a queen, and want the attention. Would that be so bad? Letting Fili find happiness and let you get back to your crafting?"

"Of course that wouldn't be bad." Erelinde responded a bit weakly, as if she'd never considered Fili turning his blue eyes onto someone else. "It's what I said I wanted, getting back to my work. Able to focus on getting my mastery."

"Exactly!" Brunere stood. "Here, let me escort you back to your crafting hall. I'm sure with the new arrivals the prince will just send you word that he's tied up and busy right now."

"Thank you." The white-blonde dam said quietly. Then she frowned. "What changed your mind?"

Brunere sighed, shaking her head. "I just can't see you off in the middle of the political jungle of dwarven nobility. You know all you can see is bobbins and pins." She smiled sympathetically. "It's rather too bad Fili is a prince and not a crafter."

Erelinde nodded, her mind whirling as she followed her friend back toward the crafting halls. Vaguely she looked around, sensing the bustling busyness of what looked like every current resident of Erebor.

As the two dams walked through one of the main halls they spied a certain white-bearded dwarrow standing in the middle, just looking around.

"Balin." The dams greeted the king's advisor with small bows of the head. It looked like he was searching the fast-moving crowd for someone.

"Lasses." The counselor greeted them with genuine warmth. "Don't you both look lovely this day?"

"Very sweet." Erelinde smiled, though her face was looking a little pale.

"Very sweet, indeed." Brunere smiled with true warmth, having sat with Bofur at dinner during some of Balin's storytelling endeavors.

Balin bobbed his head, still looking a bit distracted as he scanned the scurrying dwarrow about him. "Have either of you seen a certain brunet and red-head?"

Ah. Both dwarrowdams smiled and shook their heads.

Erelinde spoke up quickly. "I did not realize that Tauriel was back amongst us as yet. Weren't they expected to return later on today?" She shot her friend a look from the corner of her sky-blue eyes, wondering if Brunere realized that she DID keep up with things other than crafting. Sometimes.

Completely missing her friend's efforts, Brunere shrugged. "I haven't seen either of them."

"Ah well, thank you!" Balin wished the lasses a good day and hurried over toward one of Dain's lieutenants, again asking about a red-head.

Ker looked up, busy enough to be distracted. He shook his head at Balin, needing to get on with preparations for new arrivals to Erebor. "Red-head? Oh. Try the linen storage over there. Saw someone earlier."

Balin thanked the ginger-bearded dwarrow and hurried in the direction indicated. He was relieved to find Kili and Tauriel, the king really wanted to speak with his nephew and time was limited now that someone had been seen approaching toward the Lonely Mountain.

"Here now ye young rascal, are you done yet? Thorin is wanting to …to …er, excuse me!"

Nori looked up, bemused and unrepentant. The inky-haired dwarrowdam with him was blushing beet red and struggling to get her hand free from the Nori's hold. Her lips looked suspiciously reddened and plump.

Balin turned his back, shutting the door without further apology. He marched right back over to Ker, interrupting the lieutenant again. He was more direct this time.

"Tauriel?" Ker scratched his head. "I thought she was still out with Dwalin and that great tall elf. Mirkwood from what I'd heard." He shrugged. "Haven't seen her lately."

Balin sighed, dismissing the busy lieutenant back to his duties. He looked around, wondering where Kili had gotten too. A flash of white had him turning to look toward the side.

Frowning, Balin eyed the white wizard as he walked with stately grace through the busy crowd as if not seeing them. His frown sharpened as he saw Fili walk up to Saruman, speaking quietly with him.

"That, just looks wrong somehow."

A bit unsurprised, Balin nodded, not looking at Nori now standing next to him. "Happening more and more lately." The older dwarrow admitted.

"Well. Gandalf is our friend, and he's a wizard. Even that Radagast fellow had his grand moments." Nori allowed, though still sounding guarded.

Both dwarrow watched as Saruman smiled benignly and gestured for Fili to join him as he continued on his way.

"Have you seen Kili or Tauriel?" Balin asked. "The king wants to see the lad."

"No." Nori said simply, his sharp eyes still focused on the white wizard and his own crown prince. He really didn't have any reason not to like the fellow, none at all. Yet somehow, he couldn't stand him. And he really didn't like the way Fili was talking so animatedly to him. He didn't like it at all.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	43. In which Fili takes a stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra lengthy chapter to make up for ...well, you'll see ...

"In the old days we'd already have word of who was approaching, scouts would have sent forward information as they passed the out stations." Fili said sourly, pushing a book across the table with distaste with one finger, covered in dust as it was.

"Now, now." Saruman choked back his immediate rebuke to the young prince, settling on something far more neutral. "That book, and the knowledge it contains, can't help the shameful state in which it currently resides." His tone passed subtle judgement on the dwarves and their lack of interest in cleaning and repairing the library, over say, the forges.

Fili's sapphire eyed gaze never lifted from the table, though his jaw clenched infinitesimally. Why did he keep coming back to this dried up old persimmon of a wizard? He could try to explain that the cover of the book was clearly by Rengart, an apologist from the Second Age bemoaning the treatment and passing of the Petty-Dwarves and most especially the death of Mim at the hands of Hurin. The author had a clear and virulent hatred for all Men and Elves and anything touched by them.

"Dwarves should know more about the true treasures of Erebor." Saruman said with a sanctimonious smile that never quite touched his eyes.

"The true treasures of Erebor are the dwarrow themselves." Fili said blandly, not bothering to correct the wizard's assumption that he'd never read anything on Rengart's theories. Balin had tested him on it all back when he was around thirty or so. Though he did wonder if the white-haired advisor had learned his own history from the book now in front of him. He'd have to remember to ask the white-bearded dwarrow later. Fili started to get up, he'd had enough. Saruman was not very approachable, he was finding. Gandalf, even when in a towering rage, was far warmer than this sod.

Sensing the young prince's withdrawal, the White Wizard leaned on his Voice just a touch. "Stay. Speak with me, perhaps a game of chess?"

About to leave, Fili found himself sitting back down though with no clear reason or wanting to be there. Saruman treated chess like an academic study, and while clearly a master, appeared to take no pleasure in the game. Nor would he even listen to Fili when he'd tried to teach him the dwarven game of Cloudy Head, dismissing it without merit without ever even seeing the board. As if any non-jeweled invention of the dwarves was somehow …lesser.

The crown prince's lips pressed together in irritation at the memory. At least the Lady Arwen had shown real interest and pleasure in the wholly dwarven pastime. Whilst this dried up stick in white couldn't even lower his nose long enough to take a look. "I really need to go, I'm already late. I have no idea why I've taken so long already."

Saruman leaked more power into his Voice, his eyes turning colder. "I would like it if you stayed."

Again, Fili hesitated. He looked over his shoulder as if for assistance. He found it when he noticed how busy everyone appeared. "Visitors arriving. I have duties." He said, a bit surprised at how thin his voice sounded. The prince cleared his throat and tried again. "I really have to go now."

"Of course." Saruman waved one hand as if dismissing the crown prince from his presence instead of the other way around. He clearly appeared unhappy for a moment, then forced a rather tight smile. "Just remember, you can always trust me."

Fili wondered idly if there was birdsong sweeter than the sound of the wizard's voice anywhere in the world. But then as quickly as the idea formed, it floated away. He smiled, feeling a bit light-headed all of a sudden. "I know I can." He nodded his head and hurried away, feeling better with every step. By the time he left the area, he'd dismissed the entire thing from his mind.

As for the White Wizard, he thrummed his fingers on the table, irate. Dwarves did not succumb as easily as Men to the power of persuasion. Then again, even Sauron had found this race difficult to control. The rings of powers gifted to the Dwaven kings? They only heightened the innate greed, pettiness, and suspicion that the dwarves already possessed. Not holding the power to overtake them like the rings had done to the Nine. The Nazgul. Those had fallen under the complete dominion of the will of Sauron.

Saruman flicked his eyes sideways without moving his head, noting as Lord Celeborn walked through the halls of Erebor.

He had to be most careful. It was not a good thing to use his Voice so openly, especially when the young crown prince was innately fighting any hint of control. Saruman reinforced his own earlier decision not to seek to deepen his connection with Fili, but to simply win the prince over for any future use.

Erebor was too open, and Saruman needed no suspicion upon him. So, he would need to lay off trying to worm his way inside Fili's mind. It would take too much power in his Voice to push through to the youth. With the White Council coming to here, there would be too many eyes and ears.

Saruman frowned. Indeed, if he was to use his voice, it should be done through an intermediary instead. Someone to take the danger and the blame just in case. And Men would be far more susceptible targets than Dwarves. Perhaps Gondor? No. Sauron's eye was already watchful there. Rohan would be a better choice, the wizard decided. Separate the kingdoms of Men so that they would not trust, nor support, each other so readily.

He sat back, already planning how best to accomplish his goal. This would be a long term plan, taking perhaps forty to fifty years to achieve. It was a good thing he was a very patient soul.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"May we interrupt?"

Balin, Gloin and Dwalin all looked up at the grinning head poking through the door to the king's study. Thorin was slow to raise his eyes, reading over the lists of preparations before him. When he did look up, he was scowling a bit.

Balin's rather full eyebrow furrowed with annoyance. "I looked everywhere for you! Even found Nori in a closet with …well, never mind that! Where have you been?"

"Get your second bead?" Thorin asked gruffly, dropping his eyes back down to the task in front of him.

"Yes."

The supremely smug answer had every head once more turning toward Kili. The brunet prince walked in through the doorway after gesturing for his lady to precede him.

Of all those present, it was Gloin who was on the proper side to get a clear view of Tauriel's nashatal braid before the others. He choked and started sputtering immediately.

Balin hurried over to assist, only to have the ginger-bearded dwarf push him away and point rather sharply at the taller she-elf.

Dwalin and Thorin had not become distracted by Gloin's difficulties. They stared at Tauriel, who helpfully turned her neck slightly so they might get a fuller view. All of the dwarves could count to three quite well. The bald warrior closed his eyes in resigned consternation.

Thorin straightened up, a tic forming at the corner of one eye. "Kili." The one name was a warning, a chiding, as well as a disappointed sigh. "After you kissed her with the first bead, we talked about you pressuring her into taking any further steps without a full explanation."

"I freely offered him the third bead." Tauriel said, her voice even and devoid of embarrassment. "I will swear that I knew it's meaning beforehand. I made this choice."

All the dwarrow fell silent, as Kili rocked back and forth on his heels a bit in ultimate pride and satisfaction. "I accepted." He said needlessly, as if there was any doubt with her nashatal beads shining innocently in his dark locks.

Gloin, finally able to breathe again, let out a full sigh and threw up his hands as if to say there was nothing that could be done.

Thorin blinked, his brilliant blue eyes hiding his thoughts. Finally he gave a short nod, as if in acknowledgement of the words but not in acceptance. Not yet.

Dwalin's lips twitched, finally he shook his head. "Lass? Ye asked the lad to marry you?" When she dipped her head in a graceful answer, he actually gave a rather dry chuckle. "How very like a dwarrowdam of you."

Balin wrung his hands a moment, then pinned the elf with a curious look. "Do elf-maids generally do the asking?"

"No, not often." Tauriel admitted. "But I knew it wasn't the same in your society."

Dwalin turned and looked at Thorin, shrugging his bulky shoulders. "It is exactly what a dwarrowdam would do, once she'd made up her mind."

Balin chuckled a bit weakly, drawing an irritated glance from a grumpy Gloin who still wasn't far sold on the idea of this marriage.

"You still have to wait." Thorin said tersely.

"We are aware." Tauriel tilted her head respectfully at the King Under the Mountain.

"Oh, give over Gloin. They're adults and in love, what do you expect?" Balin nudged the merchant-warrior heavily, who only frowned all the sharper though saying nothing.

"Arrivals to Erebor coming." Thorin snapped at the room in general, wiping the smile from Balin's face though not managing to quell Kili's similar expression one bit. "We have work to do."

"We saw." Kili replied, then spread his hands. "Why we're here."

"I want archers lined up, defenses in place, especially until we know who is approaching." The king ordered as he grunted at his sister-son.

"You don't think it's Dain, then?" Kili's expression did dim toward something approaching serious. Was his mam about to arrive?

Balin answered for his monarch. "If it were Dain, he should be blowing those horns of his. Unless he noticed they weren't alone out there. It depends."

Kili nodded, then startled as his uncle threw a flagon of liquid at him that he'd picked up off his desk. Even unprepared the young prince caught it, his reactions lightning sharp.

"Drink it." Thorin commanded, pointing a finger at his younger nephew.

The young brunet prince immediately pulled open the stopper, preparing to do as he was told.

Balin stopped breathing while Dwalin looked away with his eyes.

The flagon was at Kili's lips when Thorin sighed most unhappily. "Stop." The king's voice sounded strained.

Tauriel's hand was immediately on the flagon, pushing it down slightly though looking puzzled at the king.

"Uncle?"

And there it was. Thorin closed his eyes as if in pain. Kili still did not look to him as a king who'd left him to die in a town of Men. This blood-kin saw him as the uncle who raised him. The one who taught him and trained him, and yes, loved him. And Kili loved him right back. Still. Despite it all. Trust remained, perhaps battered but entirely intact.

And Thorin could not bring himself to break it, not again. "That is a potion to return your body to stone." He pointed ruthlessly at the flagon.

Immediate shock and anger as Kili glowered at his mother's brother. "What?"

Balin hastened bravely to enter the breach. "It was not Thorin's decision, but the healers. We all hate to have you in such pain, and this potion's potency will last only three months. It will give you ease, that's all."

"My lessons with the Lady and my da are helping me push back the pain and itching." Kili muttered darkly.

Tauriel's hand dropped from the flagon with great reluctance. She looked down at her fingers, as if searching her mind for any other possible solution. "Lord Elrond is on his way back to Erebor, he is perhaps one of the greatest healers left of our people."

"What experience does he have in this particular area?" Dwalin sneered, though without heat or anger.

Kili stared at the drink in his hand as if it were the vilest poison in the entire world. His dark eyes sought out those of his uncle's, his expression closed and yet almost pleading.

Thorin felt his heart literally ache, feeling every one of his years and the stressors that had started to add silver to his dark hair early. "You are of little help if you are too much in pain to even walk upright."

Hearing the concern in his uncle's voice kept the panic and anger at bay. Kili swallowed hard, his throat very dry at the moment. He shook his head mutely.

"Can you handle the pain?" Thorin asked pointedly.

Kili nodded, looking relieved at not being ordered to follow through with this medicine.

A soft distressed sound next to him had him looking up into Tauriel's jewel bright gaze. She did not look nearly as relieved, in fact, she appeared worried. "Perhaps you should."

Kili's mouth dropped open in shock, his eyes wide with hurt. "Love?"

"Give over, she doesn't want you hurting." Dwalin snapped harshly. "That's obvious."

Tauriel kept her eyes solely upon her beloved, hope in her gaze. "You yourself said we would have to wait for a lengthy period of time. Longer than three months most assuredly. Cannot you give yourself some relief so that you will not suffer so?"

Balin glanced at his side, to find Gloin looking at him. The red-bearded merchant didn't look happy, but at least not angry. Tauriel's words were wise, measured, and loving. As well as self-sacrificing, since it did prevent Kili's body from waking up for a bit longer.

"Life was simpler when she was taking us prisoner." Gloin muttered.

Silently, Thorin agreed.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Ah." Glorfindel moved to stand next to Lord Celeborn as the elf lord looked out over the battlements at the group approaching the mountain kingdom. "I was seeking your wisdom."

"A problem that your wisdom alone cannot handle?" Came the slightly stinging mockery of very old friends.

The golden haired hero ignored the jibe, leaning against the stone railings and looking around to make sure they weren't being overheard. "Someone needs to explain the difference between High Elf and Silvan elf to King Thorin."

These quiet words did pull Lord Celeborn's attention away from the horizon. He turned his quiet eyed gaze upon the ancient warrior, surprise clearly showing in the minute expression of his facial muscles, but only to those who knew him well. "You think that would matter to them?"

Glorfindel scoffed with a light huff of a laugh and shook his head. "Most probably not. They might consider it a virtue on her behalf."

"Then, why?" The leader from Lothlorien knew his friend would not speak without having put much thought in on the matter.

"When in the Mirkwood, Tauriel was treated with small spites and insults. Something neither you nor I would let pass." Glorfindel sighed. "It did not occur to me to intervene, as she did not react poorly at all."

"I have found this Tauriel to be quite reserved for a Silvan elf." It was meant as a compliment.

Glorfindel immediately frowned, licking his lips a bit. "I too. But that may be the problem." He shook his head slightly. "Since coming here, I have found many of my preconceived notions on Dwaves and their society to be either wrong, or not going deep enough."

Lord Celeborn nodded, showing he was being attentive even as he turned his eyesight back outwards toward those coming their way.

"I find that I am not proud of my thoughts." The golden-haired elf continued, choosing his words carefully. "Since I think no less of myself, it must be that I am thinking more of others." He said with some rather wry humor.

Celeborn snorted softly as he listened, wondering at the point.

"I like it here." Glorfindel said rather matter-of-factly. He glanced around as if a bit bemused at his own admission. "This is no protected bower away from the world, but real living." He put his hand down on the stone railing. "Even this. I thought only living things would call to me, but here I feel the coolness of the rock and start to see the potential of what it could become."

This stunned the elf lord, who turned once more toward his friend. "You'll become a craft-master?"

Glorfindel laughed outright, his head thrown back in real delighted amusement. "Not hardly. I have no such ambitions in either Dwarvish or Elvish society." Taking his moment, the warrior let his laughter fade onto the wind as he took a deep, clearing breath. "I just mean that there is more creativity and life here than I have seen in any Elvish residence in far too many years."

"The time of the Elves is passing." Lord Celeborn said the words evenly, only a hint of sadness tinging them. "This is well known. We will be leaving Arda soon enough, perhaps in the next thousand years or so."

Glorfindel's voice sharpened immediately. "If we defeat the returned Sauron."

The silver-haired elf paused and dipped his head in acknowledgement.

"This!" The hero of Gondolin suddenly pounded both hands down upon the stone rail and gripped hard. "This! This is why I have returned."

"To defeat Mordor, yes."

"No. Well, yes, but definitely not." Came the confounding reply.

Celeborn sighed heavily, waiting for the explanation he knew must come next.

"Why defeat Mordor if we're passing through? Why send me back to fight something that will not touch us if we all sail West on the morrow? We don't have to stay." Glorfindel grinned fiercely. "No, I was sent back to defend life. This life." He turned to look up at the walls of Erebor as they rose behind him ever higher.

"Dwarrow?"

"Men, Dwarrow, Elf, whatever Arda has." Glorfindel smiled widely. "I came to retrieve a friend's stolen son. I found life. My life."

Lord Celeborn stared, trying to work it all out in his mind. "And all of this means you need to explain to King Thorin the difference between Silvan and High elf?"

The golden-haired warrior shook his head, then pointed at his friend. "No. This all means YOU need to explain to King Thorin the differences between Silvan and High elf."

Stunned, the silver-haired leader from Lothlorien stared at his old, old friend. "Why?" He finally brought himself to ask after a lengthy pause.

Glorfindel winked and smiled. "Because I already found my reasons. Now you need to find your own."

"Reasons?"

"To fight Mordor, to fight for Erebor. And Dale. And the Mirkwood. And all else as well."

"I have a reason." Celeborn drew up haughtily. "I have ever stood against the darkness."

"If that were all that it is, it is not enough." Glorfindel said with deep certainty. "You need to want to protect life, not just defeat the evil. You need to make your connections, rediscover why life is so important. I have been reminded, now it is your turn."

Celeborn sighed heavily. "And my speaking with King Thorin will do this for me?"

"Probably not." Admitted Glorfindel. "But I don't want to do it, and I think it will be good for you."

Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien in all his prideful glory said some very pithy words as his friend walked away without explaining himself better.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Erelinde did what she never did. Stared at strings dangling from pins and finding no inspiration or desire. This piece was ecru lace for a Human merchant that dealt with Gondor. This was only the second commission from this source, and it was important for her to make sure it was perfect.

Only the strings dangled there, mocking her.

Involuntarily her sky-blue eyes shifted to the side table, empty save for a single note hastily written. In this short missive a certain crown prince expressed his apologies for running late and then having to cancel their afternoon outing. There were new arrivals expected in Erebor and Fili had duties.

Of course he did.

Yet.

Erelinde sighed. Life had been so much easier when she'd wanted nothing more than to sit with her lace, her knots, her bobbins and her pins. When had real life ever intruded so much?

Fili. Erelinde smiled sadly as she thought of those teasing blue eyes as he looked at her. The music he would use to call her out of her creative processes. The funny little things he said to seduce a smile from her lips just for him.

Pushing those thoughts away, she lifted her fingers to the dangling strings in front of her and the pattern she'd already laid out. Waiting. Here was opportunity pulling him away from her, giving her exactly what she'd wanted. To be left alone.

Her fingers did not begin their intricate little dance, pulling strings, twisting, turning and knotting. Since when had alone felt so unsettling? What was the cause of her disquiet? Yes, she'd decided that she would allow Fili to give her a kiss. But that was only to see what it was all about. If courtship was even something she might want. Might.

Liar.

Erelinde gave a rueful smile at her own thoughts as she rose and paced her crafting room once, then twice. She wanted him to kiss her, because …because she wanted him to kiss her! Might as well face the truth.

But he was with the new arrivals. Suddenly, the young dwarrowdam caught her breath. What if the newcomers had eligible dams with them? Why not? Their group had come with three!

Not even bothering to think it through, Erelinde grabbed the prince's fiddle case and hurried out the door of her crafting rooms. It never occurred to her that if she really wasn't interested in the handsome prince, it wouldn't matter whom he met.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin looked up as Balin hurried into the study. "Well?"

"Not the Lady Dis." The white-bearded counselor admitted hurriedly. "Looks like it's that Radagast fellow. Only he's not alone."

Thorin's dark brow rose in question.

"Gandalf and Lord Elrond, actually." Balin nodded his head thoughtfully. "And pack animals! A great load of pack animals."

"What, is Elrond moving Rivendell to Erebor since Kili won't go with them?" Sneered the King Under the Mountain. Then Thorin paused at the arrested look on his friend's face. "Tell me not."

Balin gave a ghost of a chuckle and shook his head. "Probably not." He spread his hands in question. "Just that those animals are really loaded down. So is that wizard's sled, the ones the rabbits pulled."

Thorin stirred uncomfortably, running a hand over his well-trimmed beard to make sure all was presentable. "Most likely Elrond brings his wardrobe." It was a weak attempt at a joke and Balin didn't even bother to laugh at the old dwarven joke that elves hoarded fine clothing rather than gold or gems like a proper person should.

"Three."

Thorin scowled at his friend as he threw on his heavy furred cloak fit for a king. Dori had finished work on the fine piece only yesterday, made from the very pricy furs locked safely in Thror's old rooms, preserved perfectly and untouched by Smaug. "Three what?"

"Wizards. Three wizards in our mountain!" Balin threw his arms out in what amounted to more animation than Thorin had seen in the dwarrow since he'd originally laid out his idea for retaking Erebor.

"An elf witch, her husband, a hero that died once already but was too stubborn to stay in his own grave, and a half-dwarrow princling." Thorin sighed heavily, tweaking his furs into place impatiently. "Which part is anything you would deem normal?" The king smiled at the white-bearded dwarf. "And Bofur keeps informing me, with great mirth mind you, of all the truly odd places they keep finding dragon spoor."

"Dragon spoor?"

"Shit." Thorin teased, knowing full well that Balin knew what the words meant but couldn't resist teasing, just a little.

The white-haired counselor to the king sighed, rolled his expressive eyes and followed his king out the door in order to greet the newcomers.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Father! I would have expected you to be arrived in Imladris, rather than already returned to Erebor!" Elrohir rushed forward, his movements as graceful as water over stone but no less hurried. He grinned widely. "The stars shine a little brighter this day for having you before my eyes."

Lord Elrond looked up from his quiet conversation with Gandalf and several dwarrow guards. He smiled, quite pleased to see his son. "You can thank the Brown Wizard for our haste and speed. Apparently his rabbits do not know the meaning of the word leisurely."

"That WAS leisurely." A strange fellow said as he bustled about, a great big lump of a brown hat upon his head. At least Elrohir thought it might be a hat. He watched the newcomer with some awe, having never before had the privilege of meeting this particular wizard.

One dwarrow guard whispered something about what a great big stew one of the rabbits would make.

Suddenly, all pretense of a hapless and easy-going fellow disappeared as all light just dimmed. The world around the group turned dull as the rather plain and raggedly man appeared to grow in both stature and power. His voice held command and both dwarrow guards stared with the biggest wide eyes imaginable. "You will not eat these rabbits. They are my friends."

It wasn't until the first unfortunate dwarf stumbled out an apology and the second promised to never eat rabbit stew again did the air about them return to normal. One blink of the eye and the figure of power was gone, replaced by a rather stinky brown figure wringing his hands and going from rabbit to rabbit, reassuring them.

"I have been informed that these are Rhosgobel rabbits, and they are the personal friends of Radagast the Brown." Gandalf spoke mildly, with a twinkle in his eyes as he approached.

Elrohir held up his empty hands as if to indicate his innocence in the matter.

"Beet tops! Need some beet tops." Muttered Radagast worriedly, swiping off his hat only to reveal a nest of birds chirping.

The two dwarrow looked at each other and backed away from the small group, not wanting to have to swear never to hunt or eat another kind of animal flesh.

"Elrohir, son of Elrond, son of Earendil may I make known to you my fellow wizard, Radagast the Brown. And likewise introduce Elrohir to you my friend."

"If you must." Came the grumpy response from the strange figure who was busily pulling crumbs out of his beard to feed to the birds. At least Elrohir hoped they were crumbs and not small insects or worse.

Gandalf smiled benignly in a rather vague manner. "Come now, you helped us come this far with such great speed for this very purpose."

"May have been your purpose, I was merely helping a friend and I was coming this general direction." Radagast suddenly grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Besides, the rabbits wanted a good run, didn't you lads?"

Elrohir was no less surprised than the pair of watching dwarrow guards as the rabbits actually bobbed their heads as if agreeing. He paused, watching his father's placid face to see if this was understanding or merely coincidence. Elrond said nothing, either mentally or out loud.

"Father!"

Lord Elrond looked up, surprise pushing through his neutral expression, though his arms opened automatically as Lady Arwen came forward in a great rush. Enveloping his only daughter in his embrace, the elf lord smiled. "I did not realize you to be here."

"She arrived with Lord Celeborn." Elladan walked in, smiling at his father with ease. "Charming one and all in her wake. Greetings father, it brings this heart great joy to share the same light with you once more."

Lord Elrond blinked, not being able to help sending a questioning look over at Elrohir. This was the most relaxed and animated that he'd seen Elladan in decades. "Things are well here?"

"Growing better." Elrohir admitted with caution, not wanting to call ill fortune into being by mentioning aloud how pleased he was with the progress with both Kuilaith and the dwarrow of Erebor. "Slowly."

"You may quit speaking over my head." Elladan said with a deadpan voice.

"We're the same height." Teased Elrohir in a well-used, oft-spoke argument between the twins.

Arwen's arms tightened around her father, pleased beyond saying how happy she was to hear the twins back in their old familiar rapport. Something that had been missing since Elladan's love had passed, and with it his will to live.

A murmur of discussion around the growing number of dwarrow surrounding the ruins of the stone stables, had both twins turning to look.

Clearly Dain's guards were unsure of what to do. Normally they'd be demanding the visitor's reasons for arrival at Erebor, or helping to care for and feed the stock. Rabbits and wizards and elves left them quite literally scratching their collective heads, and beards.

"Move aside, move aside!" It was Dwalin, pushing through the other dwarrow, frowning greatly. His hard eyes scanned the group, hesitating slightly on Lord Elrond, but saying nothing until he spied Gandalf beaming at him. "Ah now, wizard, a most welcome sight you be." For the bald warrior, it was actually a rather warm greeting.

Gandalf moved forward, clapping Dwalin familiarly upon the armored shoulder with a great smile. "What news?"

"Your arrival." Came the teasing and quite dry response without even a hint of a smile, though Dwalin's voice was warm and a little less gruff than usual.

"Yes, well others were coming through the pass behind us, if I don't mistake the signs. Yet far enough away that most likely they will camp for the night and arrive on the morrow." Lord Elrond spoke in a smooth voice, no hints of his feelings as he added a caveat. "Without the rhosgobel rabbits their time will be longer in arriving here."

Arwen moved out of her father's arms to peer at the rabbits in delight, her eyes taking in the sled as well. "How fun!"

"Bumpy." Elrond commented.

Radagast frowned. "They're rabbits, sometimes they hop!"

"While running, at great speed." Gandalf said, looking innocently up at the roof of the stables badly in need of repair.

The brown wizard frowned. "I told you to hang on. You only fell off once."

"At a great cost to my dignity." Gandalf admitted with a wince, then beamed a giant smile as the group was joined by "Kili!"

Lord Elrond's attention moved off of the rather large rabbits once more, swinging his eyes over toward the young mixed-blood son of his son. He held his breath as Kuilaith moved into the area with a red-headed she-elf holding onto his hand. Tauriel, yes, that was her name.

"Da."

Elrond's eyes sparked with surprise and pleasure. While Kuilaith did not rush to Elladan's side nor move to touch him in any way, it was clear there was an ease to the greeting that had not been present when he'd left for Rivendell. His eyes narrowed in on a small detail. "You have a new piece of jewelry, Kuilaith."

"All three beads!" Crowed the ecstatic young prince, rocking up and down on his toes with energy as he tugged on the appropriate braid.

Elrond blinked. He'd meant the golden circlet upon Kuilaith's head, one that had more recently belonged to Ellrond and that he himself had sung into power. "Beads?" He repeated, feeling a bit lost.

"Three beads?" Elladan's eyebrows snapped together, his gray eyes immediately moving to Tauriel. He sighed heavily while Elrohir chuckled.

Elrond looked at his two sons, but they were murmuring to each other and not explaining. He glanced at Gandalf, who was grinning with delight. His confused gaze fell onto the bald dwarrow warrior standing there with his arms crossed.

"They're betrothed." Dwalin grumped in a nearly challenging manner, as if daring Elrond to protest.

The elf lord looked over toward his children, seeking their reactions. Arwen, without surprise, looked absolutely and utterly thrilled. Elrohir was smiling most indulgently, while Elladan looked concerned but not upset.

Further commotion interrupted any other response as King Thorin and his heir arrived almost at the same time, though not apparently together. There was a stiffness between the two that had not been present when Elrond had first left this kingdom.

It appeared he had a lot to catch up on.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You come laden." Thorin remarked with a pretense of casualness.

Elrond was spared from responding as Gandalf laughed, patting the hind end of a pack animal. "We would have been here much faster, traveling with Radagast, if not for these presents."

"Presents?" Fili asked, his eyes curious.

"From Bilbo." Gandalf patted one full saddlebag most fondly. "He was worried you would all waste away in your house of stone if he didn't garner supplies for your winter. Hobbits are most remarkable creatures."

"They are indeed." Thorin said with no little surprise and pleasure lighting up his face. Bilbo must have been true to his word and have fully forgiven him. He took a free breath, savoring the taste of the air and feeling like one more burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

"There are dried meats and jellied eels aplenty, salt-cured and smoke-cured things as well." Gandalf's eyes were twinkling. "But there are individual gifts as well. Bilbo was quite beside himself choosing for each of the Company."

Thorin's eyebrows rose with anticipation, while both of his sister-sons grinned outright.

"Let's see, I must get this right." Gandalf looked up at the cracked stone roof, counting off things on his fingers. Indeed, he ran out of fingers before he ran out of his recitation. "Bombur gets some of the cheeses that Bilbo sent, and a special cheese knife."

Each dwarrow immediately grinned.

"Bifur gets some especially fine pickled beets that I'm sure he'll love. Bofur has some very fine Longbottom leaf tobacco."

Sounds of delighted approval greeted those words.

"I believe he sent the special tea blend for Dori, of course. As for Nori and Ori I think he sent along candied fruits and silk yarn." Gandalf paused, frowning as he ticked each dwarf off of a mental list. "Ah, Balin gets a special bottling of Bilbo's cousin's famous dandelion wine, while the hard apple cider is for Dwalin for I believe he mentioned his partiality to Bilbo once for that drink."

The bald warrior's expression actually softened for a moment.

"Who am I forgetting? Ah, for Oin he sent along orange marmalade and for Gloin there is a quite fine strawberry jam that Bilbo swears by, and he even sent some extra for when his family arrives."

Thorin chuckled, thinking this all sounded just like Bilbo. That fine little hobbit might have returned home, but he'd never be forgotten. And it appeared he'd not abandoned the dwarves from his thoughts either.

"And I think that's it."

Thorin knew he was being teased, but Fili and Kili immediately protested quite loudly drawing laughter from Gandalf as well as everyone around them. "Come wizard, you know that's not all." The king said with true pleasure.

"Ah." Gandalf made a pretense of patting his robes as if looking for something, and expression on his face of deep concern. "Surely I didn't drop it."

Elrond stepped in rather despite himself. "Well, those rabbits were hopping an awful lot."

"Rabbits hop! What do you expect?" Snapped Radagast as he pulled a rather wilted bunch of carrot tops out from his robes and started to tear them into portions for his beloved animals. "Imagine, thinking rabbits wouldn't hop. And him supposed to be wise? Tch."

Gandalf's face lit up, making Fili and Kili both grin while Tauriel watched most indulgently. He pulled out a small bag and held it out as if it were made of gold. He bowed and handed it to the king. "For you and your nephews."

Thorin had to elbow both of his heirs a couple of times to keep them from crowding him, trying to look as he opened the bag. His eyes lit up and he took an appreciative sniff.

Kili looked at the ground mixture, puzzled.

"What is it?" Fili asked pointedly.

"Cocoa." Thorin tied the bag back up, pushing it inside his own fur cloak. "A luxury and something I've not partaken of since Smaug took Erebor."

Elrohir smiled at the trio of dwarves. "I think a very nice gift."

"Cocoa?" Kili asked as if unsure.

"You've never had it before?" Elladan asked as if surprised, then almost bit off his tongue as he realized why his son would never have tasted the treat before. "It's not to everyone's taste." He amended a bit lamely.

"Perhaps for a celebration, or another special occasion." Elrohir tried to aid his twin.

"Like an engagement?" Kili perked up, his eyes bright.

Fili's face showed confusion for a second, then his eyes found the beads in Tauriel's red hair and he did not miss the significance. "All three?" He asked even as he gave a great whooping cheer and pounded his brother on the back.

Tauriel patiently put up with Kili as he asked her to turn her head first one way and then the other, then complaining that the light in the stables was bad and they should go outside to properly admire the beads now gracing her braid. But she did refuse to sit on the cracked and broken trough so her beads would be more at eye level for the other dwarrow.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Erelinde didn't quite know what to do. Politeness dictated that she speak with the two dwarrow in front of her, but they were blocking her way. "Please, I just want to see who's arrived."

"Elves and strange fellows with rabbits." Said one of the dwarrow warriors from the Iron Hills. Giving a dismissive answer, as if she should be more interested in talking with him.

The white-blond dam was no stranger to male attention, but it had been more discrete whilst living in her home town at least. With dwarrow whose families she knew and thus their behavior never slipped over a certain edge.

"Please let me through." Erelinde tried the direct approach.

"You're always seen with that prince, are the rest of us not good enough for you?" The second dwarrow asked, his tone a bit more rough.

The dwarrowdam frowned slightly. She made a hand gesture and dropped her smile. "You're behavior is enough to not put you in my sight." Polite hadn't worked, direct hadn't worked, now she went for scolding. "This does not favor your names."

The two dwarrow stepped aside, letting Erelinde pass, though the second one couldn't seem to resist getting in the last word. "You haven't even bothered to learn OUR names."

The blond dam frowned as she moved toward the stable area. Fili was the crown prince, yes, but his title hadn't been what had stolen her attention. Was she being fair? One breath, two, and then she squared her shoulders. Title or no title, those dwarrow hadn't been acting respectfully. She had no reason to feel guilty. She was going to visit Fili, and she was going to get her kiss and no one was going to stop her.

"Going somewhere?"

"Yes!" Erelinde snapped, her sky-blue eyes fierce as she glanced to the side, then ground to a halt.

Fili was leaning against the outside fence around the stable area, his arms crossed and looking clearly amused. Now that she'd found him, Erelinde felt her tongue knotting up. "I brought your fiddle."

A single eyebrow lifted as dimples popped out upon the prince's cheeks as he fought a smile. "To the stables?"

"To you." She answered in a rather weak voice, feeling foolish. Why had she grabbed the fiddle? As an excuse to seek him out? It seemed silly now. "I thought you might need it."

"In the stables." He teased her again.

Erelinde shot him a rather cross look.

Fili laughed and straightened, walking over to her and taking the fiddle case from her suddenly lax fingers. "Getting in the way of your lace making?"

"No." She answered truthfully, looking up into his face and feeling he was too near for clear thought.

"So, what did you want?"

"A kiss." The truth was all that was in her, and she would have bit back the words the moment she uttered them if she could. Her face went rosy and hot.

Fili's went white as his sapphire blue eyes widened almost impossibly. He glanced around the area, seeing all the activity and people bustling around. "In the stables?" His voice rose with each word, incredulous.

"Not here!" Erelinde's face still felt flushed, her now empty hands rising to press against her hot cheeks.

Fili's breath caught as he stared at her lips, then her eyes, then her lips again. He swallowed hard and looked away. "We can find somewhere private."

"Not now!" The pretty dwarrowdam wailed, feeling rushed even though it had been her idea. Several passing dwarves heard the tone of her voice, if not her words, turning to give disapproving looks toward the crown prince. Obviously they thought he was pressuring the lass.

Fili sighed, his grip tightening on his fiddle case. "When?"

Erelinde lost her nerve, looking into the intensity of his gaze. What had made her think the kiss would be sweet? He looked like a warrior on a mission! "I've changed my mind."

Fili's free hand reached out, turned the dwarrowdam until her back was against the stable wall. Letting go, he leaned in close. His hand, now free, slapped the wall beside her as he barely kept from touching her further. "By the Axe and Blood, I will kiss you here in the stables in front of everyone if you don't change your mind back."

The threat stiffened her spine and she glared at him.

Fili dared not tell her she looked like a kitten trying to be fierce, but he did smile at her. "Please change your mind back?" He wheedled, abandoning his threat as useless. "I would really appreciate you changing your mind back."

"Fili …."

The blond prince leaned in and blew a breath across her lips, making them tingle with anticipation. Her breath caught and held.

He grinned and waited. She stared up at him, almost dazed.

After several moments Fili's smiled widened. "Are you going to start breathing again?" He teased.

Belatedly Erelinde realized that her throat was tight and her chest was aching a bit. She took in a deep breath, trying hard to ignore his sensual chuckle.

"Tonight. After dinner. I will escort you back to your room and I will kiss you." Fili promised.

"In my room or in front of the door?" She asked, suddenly suspicious.

Having not been invited into her room, and how inappropriate it might be, he paused. He didn't want to push her too far or too fast. "In front of the door."

Her eyes nearly crossed as she shook her head. "My father might walk by."

"In your room?" He asked.

Erelinde shook her head immediately, biting her lower lip which only made his gaze focus in on her mouth again. He groaned.

"Not my room." He smiled as her head shook back and forth quickly. "Your craft room?"

"No." Erelinde said immediately, drawing a puzzled look from Fili. But she knew if he kissed her in that room, she'd not be able to concentrate on her craft work for the memory. "Somewhere else."

"I know a place, a mining office. It's in one of the areas we won't be opening yet so no one will be there."

Erelinde nodded almost without thought, relieved to have a place that was secluded. Then she flushed hotly again. She was going to kiss him!

As if reading her thoughts, he grinned, the dimples playing beneath his swell trimmed beard behind his mustache beads. "Don't panic."

Erelinde traced the lines of his face with her eyes, wondering how she was going to get through dinner at all.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"What kept you daughter?"

Kili looked up from where he was arguing lovingly with Tauriel on the merits, or lack of them, of spinach. He saw Lady Arwen hold up a very fine flute with glee. "You're going to play?"

"Fili brought his fiddle, and you have new beads in your hair." Arwen teased her young nephew. "I thought tonight would be a celebration."

"Oh, that is fine!" Gandalf said, sipping his wine as he beamed benevolently at those seated with him at the head table.

"Oh, I wasn't going to play tonight." Fili said quickly, drawing looks from the other dwarves at the rather sharp reply.

Thorin looked pointedly at his heir's nearly empty plate. "In a hurry?"

Fili groaned, but shook his head.

"We have guests, and you are Erebor's crown prince." The king made his point with a sharp look. He turned once more to Gandalf. "You couldn't tell who was travelling behind you?"

"No, they were too far away. Though I don't believe they were goblins." The grey wizard said with a relaxed air.

Radagast chuckled and stuffed some cabbage into one of his pockets. Saruman saw this, a tic forming at the corner of his eye as he deliberately sniffed and looked away.

Kili nudged his brother, looking concerned. Here he was with three beads in his hair and a betrothed beauty at his side and his own sibling had barely spoken three words since dinner had started.

Fili's eyes tightened while his smile looked a bit forced. "I …"

"I love the way Fili plays the fiddle." Erelinde said, obviously not as eager for dinner to end. She gave the crown prince a telling look. "You should play a happy tune."

"A happy tune." Fili parroted, staring at her as if to make her be quiet. "I'm really not all that hungry."

"Good." Dwalin burped rather loudly, making Saruman wince and tweak his robes out of the way although he wasn't sitting anywhere close to the bald warrior. "You can play then."

Fili grimaced, ignoring the confused looks of his friends and family. He looked over at Kili's face and gave in. He smiled. "For you."

The brunet grinned, eager as the older brother opened his fiddle case and got ready to play. His fingers danced over the strings as he raised the bow. Music filled the hall as Fili began a merry jaunt full of light notes and a dancing beat.

Immediately conversation at other tables stilled as they turned to listen, the acoustics in the large dining area perfect for music. They were dwarves after all. First there was some rhythmic clapping, then a few boot stomps. And then suddenly there was the trilling sound of a flute weaving through the melody.

All eyes turned to the pretty elf-maid as she played, her own eyes sparkling merrily.

Deliberately Fili sped up his playing, unable to keep from challenging the other musician. Laughter greeted his move as several more dwarrow began clapping, some even standing and moving to watch.

Gamely Arwen matched the speed of the music, then gave a tremendous rush of notes as if water were cascading down over rock.

Eyes moved to Fili who grinned outright and repeated the cascade of notes on his fiddle, his fingers flying. Laughter and applause filled the area as the two continued their back and forth contest.

Finally, after a particularly difficult combination, just when Fili felt his fingers might fly off, Arwen laughed and held up her hands. Clearly breathless, the elf-lass was lovely and all the dwarrow immediately applauded her with great enthusiasm.

Fili suspected she let him 'win', especially in front of such a crowd, but he smiled and slowed his playing to a dance reel.

More applause as several dwarves formed circles and began the complicated dance maneuvers. Kili cackled happily, clearly enjoying himself. Tauriel leaned into him, asking questions about the dancers. The two shouldn't look so right together, in Fili's thoughts, and yet they did. He grinned.

When a bold young dwarrow approached Erelinde for a dance, the prince's smile disappeared completely. He would have jumped up if Kili's hand hadn't come down comfortingly on his shoulder.

"She's fine."

Fili didn't let himself be visibly startled. It wasn't Kili behind him. It was Elladan. Helplessly he watched as Erelinde expertly avoided dancing with the young swain, instead turning to a blushing Dori who refused her request to dance with a laugh. Ori stepped in, sweeping the pretty blonde out onto the cleared area they were using for an impromptu celebration.

"See? She's fine."

Fili's nerves settled, though he didn't miss a single note.

"Kuilaith." He heard Elladan great the brunet as the younger prince approached.

"Want me to take over so you can dance with her?"

Fili watched as Erelinde's cheeks grew rosy with the exertions of dancing all while laughing at something Ori had said. "I'm fine, ask Tauriel to dance."

"She says she doesn't know the steps." Kili shrugged. "I think she'd be embarrassed to be the only elf dancing."

"She'll have to overcome that, if she's going to be living here." Fili said, then paused. "Will she be living here?"

It was an oblique question with a singular point. Would the young couple remain in Erebor.

It was Elladan of all people who answered. "She'll definitely have to overcome that, especially as I believe she'll be living here for an extended time."

Kili flashed a grateful look over at his father, giving a rather wry chuckle. "Definitely extended." He agreed.

Fili relaxed into the music, content that his brother would be living in Erebor for an 'extended' time and that tonight he was going to be kissing the dam he hoped to marry one day. All was well with the world.

"Uh oh, I think Tauriel will be dancing sooner than she thought." Elladan sounded a bit surprised and yet pleased.

Both brothers looked over at where Ori had badgered Dori into dancing with Erelinde after all, and he was bowing before Tauriel with his hand extended.

Tauriel looked around rather helplessly, her eyes finding Kili's but he didn't over any help. The young groom-to-be shrugged and laughed, waving his permission, as if it might be needed.

Even Thorin was laughing and smiling as Ori managed to drag the taller red-head out onto the dance floor. Immediately Fili slowed the music to accommodate the novice dancer. Drawing some good-natured ribbing from the surrounding dwarves.

"Here, give me a turn." Kili said, bumping his brother's shoulder. Fili paused in playing long enough to hand the fiddle over to his sibling.

Music once more filled the hall to resounding cheers, even as a second fiddle joined him along with a trio of drums. Fili looked over at the Iron Hills dwarves who'd run back to their rooms to fetch the instruments. This impromptu 'song' had indeed turned into a party.

Wine and ale was flowing, laughter filled the halls. Fili sighed in happy contentment. Now, he just needed a dwarrowdam. He glanced at the dance floor, laughing happily as he saw a beaming Dori with Erelinde. No harm there.

He looked around for a partner, spying a tapping foot. He didn't even hesitate as he grabbed the pretty female and dragged her onto the dance floor.

Arwen roared with laughter and spun with him, graceful and yet missing every step with the first spin around the room. It should have been awkward dancing with someone so tall, and it was, and it wasn't. Fun and laughter made many things seem more graceful as his brother's aunt started to catch onto the complicated footwork of the dwarven dance moves.

"When in doubt, just stomp!" Fili shouted to her delight, which she immediately did, though her slippers didn't make nearly the sound his heavy boots did.

Thorin, watching the whole spectacle, sighed. Never would he have thought to be a witness to such a coming together of different races and cultures. Elves and Dwarves. He snorted. Dancing.

The king shook his head as Ori spun Tauriel into Nori's expert arms and the two red-heads began to form a new circle with four other dwarrow, all laughing.

He saw Gloin and Balin hurrying over to the side of the room where there was a messenger. He wondered if it was about the arrivals they were now expecting on the morrow. More immigrants? Dain? More elves? He gave up trying to guess.

Balin hurried up to him, sketching a hasty bow. "Thorin, King Thorin, oh dear."

"What?"

"Those others on the road? Didn't stop to rest, they've arrived."

Thorin nodded, turning away from the celebration. He eyed his agitated counselor. "We had enough guards to keep them in the stable areas or at Erebor's gates, yes?"

"Dain's warriors let them inside, they're coming into the hall now."

Thorin's eyebrows shot up in disbelief and shock. "Why would they …" He stopped. Dain's warriors would hold anyone back. Except Dain himself.

The quiet wasn't sudden. First a whisper, then a wave of whispers, voices rose and fell and finally the drums stopped. Even Kili's fingers stopped flying over the fiddle strings.

Thorin turned to stare where everyone else was staring.

Dain stood in the entry way to the main hall, every inch the fine dwarven warrior and leader that he was. Beside him, was Lady Dis.

Thorin held his breath, very unsure of what to do or say. Dis caught his eye and started walking towards her brother. The dwarrow parted to allow her way, moving to either side. One, then several, began to bow and offer greetings to the princess.

Dis stopped at the edge of the dancing area, looking around with cool eyes. Her gaze stopped on Fili for a moment, then narrowed at the elf lass next to him. She looked over at Dori, who blushed beet red and bowed deeply offering a greeting.

Ori and Nori bowed next, neither looking entirely comfortable.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman leaned back trying very, very hard not to show his delight. It had been a trial to sit back and witness the Elves and the Dwarves enjoying each other's company.

Yet it was over now.

The arrival of the Lady Dis was drawing divisions between the two groups once more. Stilted awkwardness filled the hall as the elves and dwarves migrated to different areas.

None of the elves were greeting the princess. Those dwarves most friendly with the elves were looking down and feeling awkward, yet each and every one of them greeted Lady Dis.

The Company, as Thorin's original group was called, was moving to be beside their king. Standing with him.

Except for the two princes.

Saruman fiercely brought his self-control into play, keeping a delighted smile off of his face while managing to actually look concerned.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin watched as Kili dropped his gaze down toward his feet, then slowly began to put away his brother's fiddle. Tauriel moved to stand next to him, giving unspoken support.

Fili moved over to join his younger sibling, the two taking five times as long to do what needed to be done.

Dis moved to stand in front of her brother, casting her eyes about the large hall. She smiled, though that expression never reached her eyes. He couldn't read her face, but her body was held tense and tight, ready to break at a wrong word.

Sympathy tore at the king, though he was still angry over her refusal to share her secrets with him. This was his sister, who he'd fought to keep alive and strong when she'd been nothing more than a refugee child, a babe really. There were unbreakable bonds between the two of them.

"Brother."

The lady's greeting had all the dwarrow holding their collective breaths. The elves neither moved nor made a sound. She had greeted the king in the familial sense, would he return the address or treat her as a subject?

"Sister." There was a definite fondness to the kings voice, although the tone was still cool and cautious.

Breathing started up again.

"My king." Dis bowed her head, putting herself in his power as someone under his reign now that she had public acknowledgement of their blood ties.

"Welcome home." Thorin's voice rang out through the grand hall, echoing off the walls as no one else dared speak or move. He turned his eyes over toward his sister's two sons. He frowned, not liking their reluctance. "Greet your mam." He ordered.

Kili smiled rather shyly, so unlike him. Then he grinned, unable to help himself, too happy to see her to dwell on the discussion that would have to come later. "Mam."

Dis started to smile back at him, more relieved than words could say. Then her eyes caught the flash of beads in his hair. Beads that hadn't been there when she'd sent him off on this quest. "Courting beads?"

"Three of them." Kili called out, completely unabashed. He reached out and boldly caught Tauriel's hand in his own. The she elf did not pull away, but actually stepped closer to the brunet.

Dis turned wide eyes on her brother, surprised when Thorin wouldn't meet her gaze. Just who was her baby betrothed to, the elf? "Brother?"

"Not now." Dwalin hissed, surprising Dis utterly. She took another long look at her older brother's closed off expression. Slowly she dipped her head, agreeing to wait though her nerves were nearly shredded already. Her mind spun and she felt nearly light-headed. An elf?

"Fili? Greet your mam." Dis called out to her eldest almost absently, needing to move away from the subject of Kili's courting beads. Three of them. Three! There would definitely need to be a discussion about this turn of events.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili couldn't find firm emotional ground anywhere. Dain's arrival had taken him completely off guard. And while it should have surprised him, the complete show of faith in Dis by all the dwarrow took him wrong.

Yes, she was Dwarven and the Elves clearly weren't. And once upon a time he'd have taken the dwarrow side of any and every argument.

Beside him, Arwen shuffled her feet a bit uneasy. He turned and bowed graciously to her, offering his arm to escort her back to her father. The she-elf smiled gratefully, if a bit sadly at him.

From there Fili moved to assist his brother in putting away the fiddle. Not that Kili needed any bit of help. While he wasn't watching, he heard his mother greet Thorin with familial ease. Even as Tauriel moved to join them at the table.

What would Dis' response to the red-head be? She hated elves. Fili swallowed hard, hoping that she would spare Kili her wrath over his betrothal, but knowing she probably wouldn't so strong were her opinions.

Listening without looking, the crown prince also heard Thorin's acceptance and return of the same level of greeting. His blood heated up. The king was taking Dis in and offering her his support, all without a single question or comment. Just like that.

Where was the anger, the regret, the sorrow, the simple acknowledgement that she'd done ANYTHING wrong?

Dis had never told who had fathered Kili, instilling years of cold looks and colder words toward his beloved brother from others. Being looked down as lesser because she refused to even acknowledge that her youngest child even had a sire. Of putting away the stories of his own beloved father so that Kili wouldn't be left out. Not even being able to NAME his own father in the lineage, because to do so would have brought shame to both his mother and brother when it came the younger's turn to name his own.

Only to find out that not only did Kili have a father, but he was an honorable person who would have leaped at the chance to raise his son. And a second son.

What opportunities had they both missed? Fili ground his teeth together even as he heard Thorin call for them to greet their mam.

Couldn't she have told Thorin at least? None of this would have been necessary. None of the feelings of abandonment that Kili had tried unsuccessfully to hide from his only sibling would have been necessary. None of it.

"Fili? Greet your mam."

If it had been Thorin doing the ordering he might have been able to choke out the proper words. If it had been anyone else, except Dis herself. Hearing her voice made Fili see nothing but red. One of his many daggers was in his hand without even the hint of a thought.

Shock filled the hall as Fili swiped the blade across the palm of his left hand as he turned to glare at the dwarrowdam who'd given him birth. His blue eyes raged with fire as he glared at her. "I have no mother!" He declared loudly in a near shout, burying the blade in the middle of the table. It wobbled there for a moment, vibrating with the violence of his thrust.

The hall exploded into pandemonium.


	44. In which an accounting is made

The excellent acoustics of the large Dwarven hall which had assisted in the fine music of but moments ago, now allowed the raised voices to bounce in every direction.

Gandalf watched with worry lines around his eyes, his expression soulful. Fili stood proud and straight, his sapphire-eyed gaze nearly glowing with the force of his rage. A frozen statue while around him was nothing but movement, noise, and outright shock.

Radagast nudged him in the left side and pointed at the leavings of a potato skin on his plate. Gandalf nodded absently while his friend and fellow wizard whisked the tuber remnants into his pocket. More than likely for one of his many animal friends. Maybe. With Radagast you never knew. He might eat the left-overs and give his dinner to the mice, it wouldn't be the first time.

Gandalf managed to tear his eyes from Fili in order to look over at the female that could only be his mother. The wizard sighed, or would have been if the crown prince hadn't just severed that relationship quite dramatically.

From across the room he watched as Dis nearly collapsed, only held upright by a steadying hand underneath her elbow.

Crown Prince. Gandalf stilled, his eyes going blank for a moment as his mind moved swifter than he could blink. "Do you have a pen?" He asked his companion at the table.

Radagast made a great show of patting his robes, pulling out bits of twigs, string, twine, a large splinter of wood, and even a lumpy turnip. It was when a cut and polished ruby rolled out from under a smelly piece of cloth and over toward the lonely root vegetable that Gandalf swore under his breath and muttered some incantation. He grabbed the broken-off piece of wood as it started to glow blue. The wizard scribbled something onto the piece of cloth and folded it, turning to summon one of Dain's guards.

Gandalf handed the guard the piece of cloth. "Here, take this. Just make sure it gets to King Thorin! Go! Hurry!"

"Don't forget this too!" Radagast tossed some bit or bauble to the guard. "For your effort."

The dwarrow looked confused, but hurried off with alacrity.

Gandalf sat back, worrying his lower lip with his forefinger and wishing for his pipe. Now. Would this work? He wasn't as well-versed in Dwarven customs as, well a dwarf.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis felt the pounding of her heart up at the start of her throat, as if tasting her own frantic pulse. Her vision swam as her fingers scrambled to find purchase on the leather clad arm helping her. Holding her upright, actually.

 _"I have no mother."_ Those words echoed on through her mind, heart and her very soul. No greater pain had she ever known, even with the deaths of loved ones.

A cup of ale was pressed upon her, encroaching her space, but Dis pushed the mug away almost without thought. She needed air to breathe and room to think. "No. No. No."

_"I have no mother."_

"Princess?" An echoing rush of voices melding together into a confusing piece of noise wafted around her, barely penetrating.

Fili? Fili? Her rock, her stalwart son, her precious first born. Her steady hand and heart? His blood, his blood on a blade, thick anger wrapped around him like a cloak. Denying her. Cutting her off.

Dis' mouth opened on a gasping half-scream, nearly panting as she struggled to find mental purchase.

The hand with the ale was in her face again. Ruthlessly she shoved, pushing it away, biting back a vicious curse. Her eyes flashed with temper and she growled. All of the 'helpful' hands drew back, except for the one beneath her fingertips, holding her standing.

Blue eyes cut to the side, unsurprised to find Dwalin beside her, keeping her from falling. Her hand spasmodically clenched his forearm tighter in thankfulness. The bald warrior grunted in support, her grip not even making a dent on his leathers even though her fingers were turning white with effort.

"ENOUGH!" Thorin barked out the word, and those closest to the king began to speak louder and faster. He sighed and glanced over at his cousin, just arrived. He looked pointedly at something Dain was carrying strapped across his back.

Dain took the cue well and quickly. A ram's horn trumpeting sound filled the air with a resounding echo, making several clap their hands over their ears for the noise that was supposed to be heard on the battlefield, not in a closed-in chamber.

Eyes turned to a furious looking Dain as that warrior glared at everyone. "Enough." He reiterated Thorin's early command.

"Does the prince …" Several voices started up again.

"SHUT YOUR MOUTHS!" Roared the king, making many draw back in caution. He glared over at Fili, who was standing there looking tall and proud and every inch an angry dwarf in his prime. Thorin growled again, running an agitated hand over his short beard.

He'd known. He'd known Fili's temper was close to the surface. He'd sensed it there, simmering, ready to explode. But at Dis? Thorin had expected the eruption at temper to be aimed at himself. Not poor Dis.

Now what? Dis looked distraught, torn to shreds at the seams of her being. Kili looked horrified and Fili …well, that one simply was still burning with rage ready to spill over at any moment.

Kili and Fili. A perfectly matched pair of brothers. Thorin wanted to scream in frustration. Kili was the one who looked most like him, but it was Fili who had inherited the Durin temper. His temper. Yes, his. Fili was the heir that while looking quite different, most closely mirrored his uncle in temperament. Oh, the blond could be as light hearted as his brother, full of life and fun and jokes and whatnot in ways that Thorin had never been able to understand. Yet, when it boiled down to the very core of a dwarrow, Fili was his heir in more ways than one.

Thorin knew, oh he knew down deep. This was not a passing anger, this was not a moment's lashing out in frustration. Fili meant what he'd said, and what he'd just done.

"Sire?"

Thorin made a dismissive gesture at the guard, only the dwarrow didn't move away. The king made a step toward him, angry. Balin interceded and spoke quickly with the guard.

"King Thorin?" His white-haired advisor called next.

Erebor's king felt torn. Dis was a mess, looking stunned and in a bit of a daze. He threw an irate look at his counselor.

Balin's chin jutted out even while he shrugged helplessly. "From Gandalf." He whispered.

Thorin unwrapped the cloth, puzzled as he stared down at the ruby the size of a copper jot in his hand. A nice piece, but hardly anything important.

"Sire?"

Thorin looked up at Balin's face, but that worthy was staring at his left hand. The king looked down at his own hand, the one holding the cloth the ruby had arrived within. There was something pale blue and glowing.

The King Under the Mountain spread out the scrap, wrinkling his nose at the musty smell. He read the glowing script, confused.

"An accounting?"

Balin shrugged and scratched his beard. "Of rubies? Gandalf wouldn't need to know how many rubies are in Erebor." He paused, recalling all the odd bits and moments of his association with the wizard. "Would he?"

"No." Thorin commented, his mind racing. When he hit a notion, he literally stopped breathing for a moment. "Kunul jalaikhshi?"

Balin heard him, shook his head, then froze as his eyes went saucer wide. "No …"

Thorin whipped around to stare out over the sea of dwarrow, all staring up at the royal dais. Waiting to see what the king would do. How he would react.

Because Fili had just severed himself from Dis. From the line of Durin. And through her to him. From him to the throne. Fili was no longer a prince of Erebor.

Unless. Kunul Jalaikhshi. It was an old tradition, an ancient one really. Not for purposes such as this. Could it work?

Thorin stared out at the crowd, all looking to him for guidance. For a decision. Some would not have realized just what Fili had done, not really. But some would. And it would matter. Heavily.

"Sire?" One of Dain's soldiers.

The words were in Khuzdul. But there were outsiders present. Could he even translate well enough to make his meaning clear to the dwarrow?

"An accounting!" Thorin roared suddenly, pacing mightily to the front of the dais. "I demand an accounting, a standing and a telling."

From here the king looked out over the large room, judging reactions. There were a few angry looks, but mostly wide-eyed stares. Some even smiled in relief, more than a few nodded.

The elves looked blank, but that was alright as far as the dwarven king was concerned. He couldn't bother with them right now. He had an heir to reclaim. If Fili picked up the cue. If the lad could see past his anger, rage and hurt to realize what it was Thorin was trying to do for him.

"Account yourselves!" Thorin roared, making a specific hand gesture. Then adding two more for good measure.

Not surprisingly it was Balin who dropped to his knees first, understanding quickly what was needed. "My king, my cousin, I serve."

Dwalin was but a second behind his brother, though he kept his arm raised for Dis' support. "My king, my cousin, I serve."

An accounting, a standing and a telling. A device used in older times to garner supporters. What was called out in public was known before all. To break those bonds made you a dwarrow of less than honorable bloodlines. Foresworn.

Every member of Thorin's Company followed suit without hesitation, stumbling over themselves to eagerly proclaim their service to their monarch.

Dain's warriors looked first to their own leader. The bearded warrior and leader from the Iron Hills did not join the Company on his knees, but did nod his head in acknowledgement. His warriors all backed away, leaving the area clear to those who had immigrated here. Those who'd rushed to Erebor to help rebuild her dropped down to their knees.

"Do you serve?" Thorin called out the words in Common, rather than the usual Khuzdul, ever mindful of their company.

"We so serve!" This from nearly every voice of those who'd followed Thorin, as well as those who'd immigrated later.

"Who is a friend to the King?" Thorin barked out the next phrase in the traditional calling, nearly wincing to hear it aloud and in the Common tongue.

"I am a friend, my cousin." Dain's voice cut through easily and though he still wasn't kneeling, it was an acknowledgement of kinship and an offer of clear support though not service. His warriors bowed to no one but him, but they each individually dropped their gazes and their heads, calling out clearly their support to the King Under the Mountain with ties of friendship, kinship, and bonds that went bone deep.

Thorin kept a close watch on both of his sister-sons and saw when Kili threw a wild glance at his brother. This was not a tradition that had been used within his younger heir's lifetime. Would he get it right? More important? Would Fili take the hint?

Thorin turned his stare straight at Fili, as if trying to bend him to his will, as well as to remind him of something of extreme importance. "Who is beside me?" The king's voice had never sounded so harsh, not even when in the throes of dragon sickness.

Dis flinched, but she offered up the proper words anyway. "I am beside you my brother, my king." Her voice sounded stronger than she appeared at the moment. For the king's sister had worked out in her mind why Thorin was using this ancient tradition. He could tell from her tone of voice.

Fili had repudiated her publically. Severing him from her line. Yet his claim to the position of Crown Prince led solely from her lineage through her brother. It was a tightrope and any misstep here could lead to disaster.

The silence lasted a moment too long. Thorin fought to keep his expression a mask, not to let any fear show through. "Who stands beside me?" He asked again almost desperately.

Suddenly Kili dropped to his knees. His voice sounded almost apologetic as he added his offering. "I am beside you, my uncle, my king."

All eyes turned to Fili, still standing mutely before the entire room, his jaw clenched and blood dripping from his left fist. After Kili's pronouncement, nothing happened. The blond did not move nor speak. A terrible silence filled the hall as people stopped breathing.

Kili threw a wild glance beside him at his brother. His eyes connected with Tauriel when Fili wouldn't even look in his direction.

The she-elf looked at Fili, Thorin, and finally back at her beloved Kili. His hurt and panic showed clearly within his dark eyes. Yet, unlike her betrothed, she'd spent several centuries in a king's court. The politics were different, but she connected the pieces within her mind almost immediately. She wasn't sure if her guess was right, but took a giant chance.

Tauriel looked back over at the King Under the Mountain and his towering personality. Deliberately she dropped most gracefully to her knees and pitched her voice loudly to call all attention unto her. "If I do this wrong, my humblest apologies. I so serve, my uncle to be, my king." Only she deliberately didn't stop there. "I serve Erebor's king, her people and the Princes of the Crown."

From slightly behind him Thorin heard Dis gasp. Relief washed over him. Tauriel had subtlety stressed that he had more than one heir. Would it be enough to kick a stubborn blond into speaking?

Thorin watched as Kili's hand reached out blindly, to be caught by his red-haired love with her own hand. They knelt there in silence as whispers roared through the collected crowd.

A moment, a second, but before Thorin could draw another breath Fili finally sank to his knees in a controlled move full of fury barely contained. His head didn't drop until the very last second, and it lasted for only a moment. "I am beside you, my king …."

Breathing held fast throughout the hall.

"My uncle." Fili acknowledged coldly.

Thorin's relief was so great his knees nearly buckled, though he managed to hold himself straight and steady. He grunted. First crisis averted, for now. "Go from me, Crown Princes of Erebor. Make sure the kingdom is safe and well served."

It was a dismissal, pure and simple. It allowed Fili to take himself off and away from the crowd, and the mother he'd just repudiated. It also left it clear that the blond was still the kingdom's first heir apparent.

Fili was on his feet within the blink of an eye. He looked around the room as if seeing nothing, his gaze even passing over his younger brother without a change of expression. He simply turned and stalked out, leaving his dagger buried in the table next to a few drops of his blood.

He passed several on his way from the room, including that of Saruman the White.

"Be calm." The words carried to him, soft and velvety …and he ignored them completely.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Lord Celeborn tilted his head slightly, nearly bird-like in movement. Had he heard Saruman using his Voice of Power? On Erebor's crown prince?

Oh, the words were innocent enough. Calmness would be something welcome at the moment.

Yet.

The silver-haired elf cut his eyes to the side, looking without looking at his wife's profile. Galadriel had her own eyes pinned on the newly arrived princess and nowhere else. Had she heard?

Celeborn returned his gaze to the youngest member of his family as Kuilaith moved smoothly to his feet and was speaking emotionally with Tauriel before pulling her toward Thorin. And his mother.

Galadriel did not like Saruman. Yet her husband had always put that down to the White Wizard's arrogance and, he supposed, in comparison to Gandalf. The Lady had ever been friends with the Wizard of Gray. They were two peas in a pod and most fond, thinking alike more often than not. Celeborn too knew he had more of a liking of one over the other, just as his wife did.

Saruman probably thought he was doing a service, keeping tempers at bay. But use of his Voice on an ally? It was a disquieting thought. Even for an innocent reason. No, especially for an innocent reason.

Celeborn filed the moment away in his mind as he watched his daughter's son rise. He let the small matter slip to the back of his consciousness as more important things presented themselves. What now?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elladan did not know what he should be feeling. His memories of the Lady Dis were muddled at best, fogged by the lens of memories already clouded by grief and despair.

She was his wife. Wife. The elf stared at the female who had stolen from him a child, his son. He should feel hate and anger, and yes, there was some of that in him. Yet mostly what he felt was a vast chasm of emptiness.

Bainnid. She should have been his wife, if not for the Orcish raid that had wrestled her life from this world.

Dis. Her chin was stronger, yet less pointed than he remembered. Her beard well-kept and neat, longer than either her brother or her sons and graced with several simple silver clasps and settings. Yet no jewels. Her eyes alone were as he remembered.

Sapphire blue and framed with some of the darkest lashes he'd ever seen. Lovely really, if he could get past the fact that she had a beard. A most handsome dwarrowdam.

Elladan stood, he was an elven warrior who had ridden into battles of poor odds time and time again. What was there to fear in a wife?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili moved forward toward his family. Thorin stepped up in front of him, deliberately. "We are stone." The king said plainly, putting his hands strongly upon his sister-son's shoulders and staring into his eyes.

The young brunet smiled a bit weakly at the show of support. His eyes flicked behind his uncle at where Dis was now standing with Dwalin and Balin while the white-haired dwarf fussed over her. "Are we still?" He asked a bit wistfully. "All of us?"

Thorin's eyes rose from that of his nephew, to the she-elf standing proudly at his side. Slowly he lowered his gaze back to Kili and his braids. With false casualness, the king flicked the one holding Tauriel's nashatal beads now gracing his nephew's hair. "They suit you."

Kili's breath caught, then a real smile bloomed across his face as he glanced back eagerly toward the beauty beside him. "Thank you." He breathed out almost silently.

"Your brother will need you this night." Thorin said, his words whisper soft so as not to be overheard.

"Yes." Kili's smile disappeared as quickly as it had formed, his dark eyes turning serious. "Thorin, he didn't mean …"

"Did he not?" The king said gruffly, though still quietly. "It will keep until tomorrow. In the meantime, there are more reunions to come."

Kili sighed, turning to follow his uncle's gaze toward where the elves were sitting. He frowned. No. His father was standing, staring. He didn't need to look to know where his father's attention was focused. "This is going to be bad."

"It should not be public." Tauriel offered an opinion.

Thorin grunted in agreement and called back over his shoulder. "Sister? We need to move this to my study. Can you wait for me there?"

Dis ran a tired hand over her face, nodding. "You'll have to send someone to show the way. I have not lived here since I was ten." Even as she spoke, she moved toward her brother, and her youngest son.

Ignoring Tauriel completely, Dis stepped up beside her sibling. "My baby." She said, utter relief in her voice as she reached out and ran a loving hand over his hair, stopping with her palm behind his head to pull him in for a hug. Kili wrapped his mother in his arms eagerly, wishing that all that was to come would simply disappear.

"My memory grows poor, or you are taller." Dis joked, since dwarves did not grow past their thirtieth year. "My baby."

Kili winced against her shoulder, but did not mention the Light of the Eldar and all it meant for him physically. He guessed that was a discussion that could be held later too.

"He is not only your baby."

The cold voice cutting across the hall made everyone freeze almost painfully. Kili winced again, he'd forgotten about the fine hearing of the elves.

Dis nodded against her son's shoulder, pulling back reluctantly, but not letting him go. Her gaze slid right over Tauriel as if the red-head didn't exist. Her blue eyed gaze settled on the dark-haired, gray-eyed elf lord standing in front of the other elves. He stared at her harshly, judgingly.

"Not out here." Thorin barked, though he did not hold sovereignty over any of his nephew's 'other' relatives.

"Acknowledge his blood." It was a demand, pure and simple. "Before all, tell them who is your son's father."

Dis fought hard not to wince at the piercing and very clear sound of the elf's voice. She could not bring herself to meet his harsh glare. "Elrohir, please. Not now."

Silence. Thorin closed his eyes almost as if in pain. "Oh sister."

Kili shook his head at his mam, trying to tell her without speaking the words.

A stirring among the still seated elves drew everyone's attention back that way. The mirror image to the standing elf waved his hand minimally, merely a flick of the fingers of his hand as he watched. "I am Elrohir."

Dis looked disbelieving at the seated elf, and then back to the tall warrior standing resolutely in front of them all. This was Elladan? Where was the elf that could barely bestir himself? The one who'd lost all will to live?

"Will you not greet your husband?" The words sounded mocking, though the tone was even and chill.

"My husband died years ago." Dis' chin rose in defiance. In her heart she only really acknowledged Nehili as her spouse.

Behind Elladan, there was a stirring. The king's sister looked and paled. Elrond she recognized, though she'd but seen him only twice. The others she knew not beside the wizard in white. But the lady with the golden hair was looking at her with eyes so spooky they were making Dis feel almost physically ill.

"Do you deny Elladan as your second husband?" The words were softly spoken, yet everyone could hear them as if the speaker were standing right next to them. Thorin fought not to shift his weight like a nervous dwarfling called upon the carpet for some bit of mischief.

"I wed him, though I will not say he was ever my husband in truth." Dis split the words from their true context, playing with danger and definitely not wanting to acknowledge the elf lord as having claim on any part of her life.

"Mam, please. Don't." Kili pleaded, his eyes pools of misery.

Dis looked at her youngest child, her strength ebbing slightly. Then her gaze fell upon the three beads in his hair. Her jaw clenched. "So. To claim him you force him to marry one of your witches?"

Tauriel blinked, but in no other way did she react. This was Kili's mother, and the poor dwarrowdam was under quite a bit of shock and distress at the moment. Though she would forget none of this.

Thorin hissed, shaking his head. "No, he is against their marrying. Look to your own son for the author of those beads."

"They can be removed." Dis said, then drew back at the flash of rage within her baby's eyes.

"Never!" Kili vowed.

Thorin leaned in next to his sister's ear. "Unless you want both sons to have their daggers lined up on that table, I'd suggest letting this matter go."

Dis drew back, shaking her head in surrender, though the subject was by no means closed. She resolutely refused to glance in the red-headed elf's direction.

"Who is the father of your second son?"

Everyone turned to stare at Balin, who gave them all a trembling smile. "It has to be said." He whispered. "Get it over with and let us move into private."

Dis looked back at Elladan, she did not acknowledge him as her husband, not even in her own mind. "Kili is of your blood, though I do not call you his father."

"Is he my son?" The question was asked in a strong voice, echoing off the fine acoustics of the hall.

Dis swallowed back an oath, but nodded. No one moved. She ground her teeth together and admitted the obvious. "Kili is your son."

"Kuilaith."

Dis' brows snapped together in irritation. "You know well enough I don't speak your language."

"It's my name." Kili sighed, unhappily shrugging at his mother. "My name in Elvish."

"Over my dead body returned to stone!" Dis shouted.

"I have no objections." Elladan said coolly. "Wife."

Thorin closed his eyes and wondered why he didn't have a monstrous headache already. Even as Balin rushed forward, begging for time for Dis to get changed out of her travel gear and refresh herself before speaking more in depth with the elves.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis paced in front of her brother's large desk, her mind furiously spinning.

Thorin and near his entire Company were gathered in the study with them. Only his two sister-sons were absent.

"You all looked friendly enough when I arrived." Dis snarled, her equilibrium if not back, repaired enough to bring her color back. "Singing and dancing."

"Just dancing." Bofur interjected, then when everyone glared at him he dropped his gaze and his smile. "Just being accurate."

"And letting my baby take a new name and a betrothed!" Dis sputtered, still shocked and clearly unhappy at the turn of events.

Now eyes turned toward Bofur, wishing he'd speak up again. But the hatted dwarf kept his gaze downward on this one.

Ori cleared his throat. "Elladan explained that they heeded your wish in not giving Fili a dwarven name so as not to dishonor his father. They felt it was more of a dishonor to Kili's father to not give him an elvish name." Nori kicked his younger sibling in an effort to shut him up.

"Elrohir." Dwalin sighed unhappily. "It was Elrohir who explained."

Dis glared at Ori who wasn't looking at her, and Dwalin, who was. It was not the warrior who looked away first.

Thorin sighed wearily. "The elves do not anger when we continue to call him Kili, and we do not interfere when they call him Kuilaith."

"And the witch that would steal his heart and keep him from a fine dwarrowdam? What will happen if a prince of Erebor responds quicker to an elvish name than a dwarvish one?" Dis nearly choked on her words.

Balin cleared his throat and smiled weakly at her. "Well, Tauriel calls him Kili actually."

"The gall." Dis muttered, wanting to throw something.

"I like her."

Everyone stopped and turned, Dis' mouth dropped open and she stared in horror at Dwalin as if she'd never met him before. "Cousin?"

Dwalin squared his shoulders as if about to go into battle. "She has proven honorable and smart and willing to learn our ways. Can't say I'd have picked her for the lad, but she's proven handy."

"Rubbish!" Dis cried out, throwing up her hands in disgust.

"Dwalin yelled at her earlier." Thorin supplied, knowing that each dwarf here would realize that meant that the bald warrior accounted her worth his time and effort.

"Anyone else like her?" Dis rather shouted, feeling betrayed.

Ori's hand shot up, he glanced at either side of himself at his brothers. Nori's hand inched up almost reluctantly and Dori wouldn't meet the princess' eyes as he flicked his hand up and down rather quickly.

She turned as someone whistled. Bifur said something too quickly to be understood and gave a shrug. Bofur sighed. "My cousin stands for her nashatal braids, and I kind of like her too. Well, more than kind of, since she saved the lad and all. A sight to behold she was. As for Bombur, he wished she ate a bit more in case of children, but he doesn't hate her."

The fat dwarf bobbed his head and then dropped his gaze as his face flushed.

Oin held out his hands as if to fend off the question while Balin smiled sadly. "Truth is, most of us don't hate her. Even if we don't particularly like her. She grows on us."

Dis rounded on her brother. "Thorin!"

But the king said nothing, making his sister's jaw drop. "You don't!"

"You weren't here, you don't know what you owe her." Thorin said as soothingly as he could.

"I owe her nothing!"

"You owe her Kili's life. And then some." Gloin sighed heavily. "Cousin, I assure you, I don't like her. I don't approve this marriage and I have no love or friendship with any of the elves. But you do owe her, and not only for Kili's life but maybe even for Fili and Thorin himself."

Dis' mouth clicked shut as she ground her teeth together in frustration.

Gloin pointed at his own brother. "Oin has a friendship with the elven healer. They get along with their talk of herbs and poultices." He flicked his chin in Dwalin's direction. "Glorfindel is thick with not only that one but Balin and your own brother as well."

"No." Dis slid down into a chair, looking rather pale, her eyes wide and distressed.

"Bombur is friendly enough with them, Ori practically dotes on both Tauriel and Arwen." Gloin sneered. "Dori gets on with the elf lasses well enough as Elladan's sister has a great love for textiles. As for Nori? I suspect he's the one who got the nashatal beads to Tauriel in the first place."

Gloin glowered at her as he moved to stand in front of her. "Yet each and every one of these dwarrow would be ready and willing to stand for you and with you against any comers. Do not look to chide them for being friendly, you MARRIED one of them!"

"Against my better judgement! At grandfather's request!" Dis nearly wailed, feeling under attack. "Gloin, please. Please."

The red-beared dwarf sighed and stared down at his cousin. "You were ten years old when Smaug devastated our people and forced us from our homes. You were placed in with my family for safe keeping. Raised as close as a sister to me until Thorin came for you later. I love you, my cousin."

Dis smiled wanly, nodding.

"I alone hold no friendships or bonds with the elves." Gloin continued, almost sounding angry as he placed his palm against his chest. "And yet I cannot find it in me to stand with you on this. Not on this."

Thorin looked up in utter shock at their cousin's words. Of the company, only Oin didn't look surprised. It wasn't clear if the healer simply hadn't heard his brother's words, or if he just already knew Gloin's mind on this subject.

"They will stand with you. Have no doubt. And in public I will say nothing against you. Stand behind you." The red-bearded merchant said chillingly. "But here, in private. I tell you, I think you have acted with shame."

Dis went pale as Thorin stood up, ready to rush to his sister's side.

Gloin turned and shot his king a hard look. Thorin stilled, waiting. The red-bearded dwarf turned back to Dis. "I am a father." He said with utter simplicity. "No matter how I turn it in my head, I can't let that go. You stole a son from his father and kept them from knowing each other. I find I cannot make my way around that bit of fact."

Dis felt her eyes tearing up, though she refused to wipe them away. She stared up at Gloin, hoping he would stop this.

"As a father, this act you've done, I find it wrong. Shameful and wrong." Gloin finished, holding up his hands, palms out to show them empty. He backed away from Dis. "I love you, I will always love you, and have no fear of me speaking out in public for that will not happen. But here? In this room, I had to speak the truth."

"Gloin, please." This from Balin, who didn't like Dis' stricken expression.

The red-head shook his head, walking over to the side of the room and crossing his arms. "Gimli. My son's name is Gimli, and I am his father." He made a hand signal, showing he was done with this subject once and for all.

Dis couldn't seem to catch a proper breath. She looked at each of the Company members in turn. Several wouldn't meet her eyes. She hesitated a second before speaking. "Bombur? You're the only other father here, do you feel the same?"

The rotund dwarf paled and shook his head, showing clearly he didn't want to answer. Which was all the answer she actually needed. Dis collapsed back into her chair, closing her eyes as she rubbed them.

Bombur tugged on his brother's sleeve and Bofur bent catch his murmured words. The hatted dwarf sighed and made a small bow of his head toward the lone dwarrowdam in the room. "My brother apologies, and says he understands wanting to keep a child you love all to yourself. But as a father, he says, you might be a little bit wrong."

Thorin sighed as he watched Bombur hold up two fingers slightly apart, bobbing his head. "Fine way to commit to an argument."

Bombur flushed and dropped his gaze.

"You're braver in facing a dragon than you are a dwarrowdam." Dwalin committed dryly.

Bombur smiled rather shly. "They're scarier than a dragon."

Thorin coughed out a rough laugh and nodded, sitting back down behind his desk.

"What am I to do?" Dis asked of no one, and everyone.

Balin sighed when no one said anything for a few minutes. "Lass? You need to speak with your husband and your sons. Son." He shook his head sorrowfully.

"You were right the first time, Balin. I have two sons." Dis said resolutely, ignoring the fact that one had just publically denied their relationship. She repeated herself, just to hear the words out loud. "I have two sons."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

It wasn't the cold that got his attention, nor the pain in his hands. Fili slowed his movements, though the axe still moved with precision. His back and shoulder muscles ached and he wondered idly how long he'd been out here chopping wood on this side terrace just outside Erebor's gates.

A sour note made him wince. Wait. Note? Fili slowly became aware that there was music out here.

Well. Maybe not music. He flinched as two more notes went wildly astray and screeched rather harshly.

Breathing hard, his breath turning to mist as he slowly became aware that his shirt was sweat soaked and sticking to his body. The heat of his exertions had kept the worst of the cold of the night from reaching him. Besides, he was dwarrow, and stone didn't feel the cold. Much.

Fili turned, both surprised and yet not when he saw Erelinde sitting on a stone bench playing his fiddle. Another wrong note and he flinched visibly. "Are you trying to play that, or kill it?" He asked, his voice gruff.

Looking relieved, Erelinde smiled at him. "You do it to me."

Fili walked over to sit next to her. "I do it better." He commented with a rather teasing look, though not smiling. Smiling was really beyond him at the moment. He sighed, ignoring the cold mist his breathing left behind. "You saw it all tonight."

"I did." Erelinde said, putting the fiddle in her lap.

"Usually it's Kili out here, trying to get me out of a temper." The blond prince admitted.

"He's here." The pretty dwarrowdam smiled rather sadly. "He and Tauriel went to fetch more firewood for you to chop. You didn't look like you were ready to stop yet."

They both stopped as they heard footsteps heading their way, waiting until Thorin stood framed in the outside archway.

Erelinde dropped her gaze and her head. "Your majesty."

Thorin looked surprised to find Fili involved in talking, not chopping wood to get rid of his temper. He nodded toward the beautiful dam in greeting.

"I'll leave you two alone." Erelinde said quietly.

"I wish you wouldn't." Fili responded rather heartedly.

The blond stilled, then shook her head. "I need to put the fiddle away, this cold air isn't good for it." She paused and looked pointedly at his heavy fur cloak. "The cold air isn't good for you either."

Fili nodded and ignored his uncle as he grabbed Erelinde around the waist, pulling her in close to his body. She didn't protest besides a small gasp from being startled. "I still want what we talked about."

Erelinde's face turned an interesting shade of reddish purple. She shot a horrified look at the king, who deliberately turned his gaze away. She shook her head.

"After tonight, I wouldn't blame you for changing your mind." The prince said quietly.

Erelinde's eyes went wide and she shook her head with more animation. She glanced over at Thorin to make sure he wasn't watching. "I've not changed my mind."

Fili grunted, pleased. He rested his forehead against her, mindless of his sweat-soaked hair. "Another night."

The sweet dwarrowdam closed her eyes, nodded as she reveled in his closeness. "Yes."

Thorin waited until he was sure the dwarrowdam had returned indoors. He sighed finally. "I thought I'd find you out here still lost in swinging that axe."

Fili hefted the weight in his hand and then dropped it on the table. "She has a good effect on me."

The king and uncle nodded carefully. "Your mother …"

"I don't have one of those." Fili said coldly.

Thorin sighed.


	45. In which Dis meets her husband again

Fili ran his tongue over his teeth, casting his eyes around the mostly deserted courtyard. He gauged the large amount of firewood he'd already chopped without surprise, knowing there would be a lot from the slight ache between his shoulder blades. No blisters on his hands though. Seemed Erelinde had pulled him from the worst of his fury. The shift of a boot on stone reminded him he wasn't alone, but the prince made no effort at speech. He was waiting for Thorin to speak first.

The king stood motionless, hands clasped behind his back in what could be considered a regal pose. It was a stance he'd seen often enough when a youth in his grandfather's court and perhaps he'd unconsciously copied it? It really wasn't important though. He glanced over at his heir, his blue eyes shadowed in the darkness. He waited for Fili to speak up first.

This was the way Kili found them both ten minutes later, standing in uncomfortable silence and studiously not looking at each other. The darker haired prince heedlessly dropped his load of fresh wood with an agitated crash of noise. Behind him, Tauriel stood with another armload, the she-elf somehow managing to put hers down with only half the clamor.

Fili bestirred himself, running his hand over his now cold and clammy hair where the sweat from his earlier efforts was turning uncomfortable. "You couldn't have gone far."

"Rookery." Kili bit out the word. "Lots of ruins around here needing to be cleaned out. Whole piles of trash and wood."

"Much needs to be repaired, thrown out." Thorin said carefully in a measured voice.

Fili's eyes narrowed dangerously, temper flashing within their depths. "Oh?" He dared his uncle to say that his anger was something that needed to be swept out of Erebor just like the dragon crap and remnants of a once thriving kingdom.

The king wisely backed off, instead turning his eyes to the lone elf within their company. "I owe you." He said simply, those three words hardly covering the gaping chasm of his gratitude. She'd really stepped into the thick of dwarven politics tonight, possibly saving the kingdom from a succession crisis.

Tauriel shook her head in denial even as she dropped her eyes politely. "I meant what I said, and I serve."

Thorin slowly blinked his eyes and gave a rough chuckle that held no true humor, rather a form of incredulousness. "Never would I have imagined."

Kili bothered his lower lip, looking at the frozen form of his older sibling and wanting to go to him, but knowing Fili wasn't ready for that yet. A lifetime together and the two brothers could read each other near perfectly. Almost. "Me either." Only he wasn't talking about Tauriel's little speech during the Accounting.

And Fili knew it. The blond's head snapped around, catching his younger brother by surprise as dark eyes widened with distress. "Don't you dare. Not you. She has no defense in this and you should be the last one to welcome her here!"

Kili swallowed hard, his shoulders rising instinctively as he shook his head. He clearly had no idea what to say or do. "She's mam." He said rather ineffectually, knowing already that it wouldn't be enough.

"Not anymore." Fili snarled viciously, his hands clenching as he crossed his arms over his rather broad chest.

"Go." Thorin told the younger of his two nephews almost gently, his voice low and even. "Take your betrothed out, unchaperoned, celebrate your new beads. There is nothing more you can do here tonight."

Kili hesitated, shaking his head as Tauriel moved up behind him, putting her hand on his shoulder for support. "We can stay." She offered.

"Take yourselves away." Thorin said wearily. "I would speak with my accounted heir. Your …." He hesitated, then made a substitution. "My sister is otherwise engaged."

Kili's breath caught as he realized that both of his parents had to be in the same room together. Probably the first time that had happened since he'd been conceived. The thought made him highly uncomfortable and he shifted his weight awkwardly.

"Sending him off without a chaperone? How kind, how sweet, and I suppose you thrust that thrice-damned potion down his throat first?" Fili's voice dripped with both choler and indignation.

"No." Kili flinched, feeling caught in the middle of a horrible storm and unable to find good purchase to stand upon. "I decided not to take it."

Tauriel's fingers tightened very slightly on the brunet's shoulder as her lips thinned slightly. "I would not have you in pain." She remarked without pleading, for this argument had already been lost earlier in the day.

Kili smiled grimly. "And I'd rather feel everything, not blunting any of it. Besides my training with my da and the Lady goes well enough. I can manage."

Thorin sighed, not happy with his sister-son's decision but having already decided to allow the lad to have his way in the matter. "If the pain becomes an issue or causes you to fall behind in any assigned task …"

"Yes, uncle." Kili said with a grin and a wink that quickly faded as humor could find no hold on any of them this night. "I understand."

"Now go." Thorin said, but when the brunet hesitated his voice firmed. "That's a command, dwarrow." He pinned Kili with a hard look.

Still the younger prince continued to hesitate, sending a pleading look over toward his brother. Fili met his gaze coolly, then tilted his head up in a quick motion as if to say 'go on' and that everything was fine. Only Kili knew it wasn't all fine.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis stood alone in the large room. A chamber so big it would have held more than half their cabin back in Ered Luin. A queen's chamber. It had belonged to grandmother, a dwarrowdam that had returned to the Halls of Waiting before Dis had even been born.

Thror had spoken little of his wife over the years, but when he had mentioned her name it had been with fondness tinged with deep sorrow. The old king had even ordered her rooms to remain untouched, cleaned but never changed.

Dis turned in a circle, her eyes roaming over every small detail. Thror would have thrown a fit. Nothing was left. Her memory of that time was dim, having been but ten years of age. Still, she knew it hadn't looked like this. The room was stripped bare, a blank canvas, waiting for the next inhabitant.

Tauriel.

Never mind that it would be Fili's wife that would actually inhabit these rooms, it was the image of that she-devil elf that had snared Kili that filled Dis' mind.

Dis looked to her left, puzzled by what she saw. Yes, the room was bare but for the basics of a bed, a chair and a single table. But on the table rested a bowl that was decidedly not dwarven. Plain silver, hand beaten, but undecorated. Out of place. Much like an elf-lass in the middle of Erebor.

Slowly, deliberately, the princess let loose her fists and shook out her fingers. "Three beads." She muttered. Things were bad, but they could still be salvaged.

Kili was a reckless soul, but a kind and loving one. Of course he'd have fallen for the first to show him any interest. He could be stubborn, but when shown the errors in his thinking he generally fell into line. She'd have to carefully show him that he needed a dwarrowdam for a bride. He was a prince of Erebor. No one would follow a dwarf with an elvish wife.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. Dis closed her eyes slowly, dreading this conversation. For she knew who would want to confront her first. "Come!" She called out, her shoulders tensing in anticipation.

Dis heard the door open behind her, but heard no footsteps. How very like an elf. "So. Elladan or Elrohir?"

A lengthy moment passed and she started to wonder, but then the answer came in a voice that although not raised, held power. "Neither."

Dis spun around so fast it was a wonder she didn't lose her balance. Her eyes, a match for Thorin's, widened with surprise as she saw the golden haired she-elf from the hall earlier now standing in her room. The door was closed behind her though the dam couldn't recall hearing it being shut.

Dis gave a huff of a breath, then shook her head. "Elladan has the right to confront me before all others. I do not intend to discuss personal things with every elf that thinks they have a right." She lifted her head higher, feeling strongly at a disadvantage.

The strange elf witch with the spooky eyes said nothing, gliding more smoothly than a person had a right to move, toward the lone table and its plain bowl. That's when Dis realized the elf was carrying a pitcher. A plain silver one that matched the basin.

"You brought the bowl." Dis said, her tone empty and lost. Disturbed, she cleared her throat. "I have no intention of explaining myself to you, Galadriel." The name slipped off her tongue even though she'd not known who the golden-haired female was. The name simply appeared in her mind, hanging there in front of her. Unnerved, Dis wiped the palms of her hands on her travel leathers. "I am not a toy to be pushed, prodded or spun in any which direction." She warned.

A voice lilted through the room, filling it completely even though the elf did not speak loudly. "King Thorin informed me there would be no Kuilaith, if not for you."

"Kili." Dis' jaw clamped shut around her son's name in immediate rebuttal. "And I am also no brood mare to be used and discarded, a convenient womb for your …" Here she hesitated. Who was this Galadriel person in the first place?

The tall elf bent her head graciously as she informally introduced herself. "Your husband is the son of my daughter."

That would make her Kili's great-grandmother. Dis' mind nearly stalled as she eyed the silky perfection of the elf's complexion. Not one wrinkle, not one spot. Nothing to indicate age.

"Kuilaith is a fine young male, strong and smart as well as kind and joyful. You have done a fine job raising him."

Dis did not thank the golden-haired elf. She drew up, waiting for the next part she knew to be coming. Something would be said next, such as the elves would take over raising Kili from here on out.

"Why did you marry my daughter's son?"

The dwarrowdam blinked several times in quick succession. That wasn't what she'd expected. There should have been accusations of stealing the child from the elves, from his father. Dis shook her head, caught unprepared. "I said I wasn't going to explain myself."

"You have no love of him, nor he of you." Galadriel ignored the protest completely. "I will admit I arrived in Erebor prepared to dislike you immensely. But the more I have gotten to know Kuilaith and his family here, the more I begin to wonder. How did this marriage even come about?"

Dis sighed, recognizing another used to getting her way. This elf reminded her strongly of Thror and Thorin both, only spookier. "My grandfather."

The elf tilted her head slightly toward the bowl on the table. "You do not appear the type to cower and agree without thought."

Startled, Dis shook her head. "You don't know me."

"I know your son." Galadriel said without preamble. "I have been in his mind."

Dis took a breath and wondered at the strange turn of phrase, as if …suddenly she gasped, recalling how the elf's name had just 'appeared' in her mind. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" She shouted, horrified and suddenly disturbed beyond her ability to measure.

The golden-haired female raised a single perfectly arched and elegant eyebrow. "He is my blood, and in my heart. I was protecting him."

Dis glowered, looking much like her brother at the moment. "Protecting him from what?" She asked with deep suspicion, completely discounting that this strange elf could possibly have feelings for Kili already.

Galadriel held out her pitcher over the bowl, not a quiver in her arm to show it was full of anything. "I will answer your question, if you will look in here."

Dis eyed the bowl with disgusted curiosity. "Elf magic?" She frowned sharply. "How long have you had the bowl here, ready for my arrival?"

"Several weeks." Galadriel admitted. "It will show you, and me, your memories. What happened."

"You want the gory details of how I seduced and abandoned your daughter's son?" Came the snide response.

"Yes." Galadriel tilted the pitcher so the water trickled out slowly and evenly, not splattering at all.

Dis watched, her nerves shot already. She couldn't pour anything into a bowl without some of it going astray. But the water now filling the silver basin acted unnaturally, swirling as it filled. Dis had been several steps away, but now she found herself standing in front of the table, looking down, almost without thought. She hadn't meant to approach. Was she bespelled, she wondered?"

"Your actions, and your thoughts, are your own." Galadriel answered the unspoken question.

"What are you wanting?" Dis asked bluntly, though it seemed the water's movements were changing even as she watched. Colors that were reflected within solidifying strangely. Only, there were no such colors in this stripped down room. The dwarrowdam held her breath as images formed. Images she recognized.

Galadriel spoke as if from a great distance away. "This mirror allows things to be seen. Things that were, things that are, and sometimes things that might yet be."

"Were." Dis repeated the word absently as she followed the image of her grandfather. Thror was pacing in front of that wizard that always wore white. Lord Elrond was there too. They were sharing a meal, the details reflected so accurately that Dis could tell the meat was a bit too well done for the old king's tastes. Only he wasn't eating. Something had the old dwarven king agitated and she could see he was pacing, his hands behind his back.

Dis stared so hard her vision began to swim and she blinked rapidly to clear her eyes only to find that the picture itself was changing. Reforming.

Elladan. Blank faced and lost. Pale, nearly lifeless. Elrohir and Elrond, desperate looking in the background. Thrain arguing with Thor, arms waving. And there she was. Dis stared at the image of her former self. Had she really looked so empty? Almost as bad as Elladan had been. Fili, running around confused by all the new people. His braids askew.

Fili. Her heart about broke in two, hearing his denial in her ears once more even as the four year old version of him tugged on her skirts. Dis watched as the person she'd once been had shooed his small hands away. She frowned. That wasn't like her. Had she been so locked within herself at the time?

Someone picked up Fili, patted his back. Dis nearly cried out, distraught. Elrohir. Not Thor, not Thrain, and not she herself. She watched as the gray-eyed elf whispered something in Fili's young ear, making the youngster nod.

Tears threatened her and she lost sight of the water for a moment. She blinked to clear her vision and when she looked again the scene had changed over once again. The wedding. Dis watched as she and the others silently moved through the motions. No celebrations, no parties, no joy. Words spoken solemnly over them, the wedding cup pressed into their hands and shared between them as was the Dwarven custom. No dancing, no music, nothing further.

Until she was finally alone in a bedroom with her new husband.

"Please." Dis begged. "Don't."

The scene continued. Only, the two of them weren't touching. They prepared for bed and laid down next to one another, but acted as if each were alone. Dis watched, confused. This wasn't how she recalled things. They both laid awake, unsleeping until her hand reached blindly out to the side.

Thankfully the water smudged the picture here, making her near light-headed in relief.

Dis nearly choked on the next scene, another night. No Elrohir, no Elrond. Just she and her husband, Fili playing at her feet with a carved wooden horse. Elladan, sitting in a chair, an empty mug beside him. Another in front of her. Both their dinners, untouched.

Then suddenly she was back in Erebor, blinking. Feeling torn asunder from the inside out.

"Learn anything?" The bitter voice cut through the moment like a sharpened dagger.

Dis spun, seeing that Elladan had arrived.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"It should be me."

Fili threw a perplexed glance at his uncle.

Thorin didn't make him ask. "Your anger should be directed at me."

The blond prince shook his head stubbornly. "I am angry at you."

"Not enough." Thorin said, sounding almost sad. "I was the one you trusted. I was the one leading you. I was the one who abandoned your brother in Lake Town. I was the one who fell to the sickness and mistrusted all, even my most loyal right and left hands. My lion and my hawk."

Fili rolled his shoulders, starting to feel the cold now that he wasn't chopping wood anymore. He picked up his thick cloak, wrapping it around his shoulders as he spoke, not looking at his uncle. "All you say is true."

"Tonight?" It was a question, plain and unvarnished. What had set the prince's temper off so that it had exploded?

Fili stared at his uncle for several seemingly long minutes. Finally he sighed and shrugged. "What is your favorite story to tell of Thrain?" He asked, fastening his cloak with more attention than the act warranted.

Taken off-guard by the question, Thorin shrugged. "There are many."

"A favorite." Fili persisted. "Perhaps the one about the battle of Kenit's Run? What about the brandy challenge with Dwalin's father?" The blond asked coolly.

Thorin answered soberly. "All favorites. Why?"

"Treetop Ridge? Muskhaven's Rout? Oh, or how about the time he outsmarted that fellow from Gondor?"

Thorin nodded slowly, trying to figure out where Fili was leading. "All good stories."

"And Thror?" The prince continued.

The king looked down for a moment, nodding thoughtfully as he made the obvious connection. "And Kili has only ever told one story about his father, ever. Yes. I understand. Dis did not act well. Gloin laid into her in my study, cut her to the bone with his words."

At that, Fili's head came up and he stared at his uncle.

"What? You thought because everyone stood behind her in public there would be nothing said?" Thorin rubbed the back of his head dejectedly. "She has no one that says she acted rightly where Kili is concerned."

Fili stared at the king for a long moment, his eyes nearly burning in their intensity. "Kili. Where Kili is concerned?"

Thorin eyed his primary heir with a troubled look. "Fili?"

"Would it have been so wrong to have been friendlier with the elves nearly eighty years ago?" Fili fairly spat out the words. "We could have had more resources, faced less hunger and difficulties. Perhaps marched on Erebor sooner, returned home sooner!"

"You don't know …"

"You nearly died!" Fili roared, suddenly in Thorin's face, his face reddening with high emotions. "We were dying! That battle would have killed us, and it would have been fine. It would have been a grand, heroic death in a worthy cause. If the elves hadn't arrived."

Thorin stared at his heir who did not pause but kept going in his raging temper. His own anger sparked. "There is no surety in that! No!"

"Food could have been more plentiful. Training! Ranger training! Dwalin and Glorfindel could have traded fighting secrets. Imagine, training with a fellow who'd actually SLAIN a dragon!"

"Oh Fili …"

"The last great alliance didn't have to have the word last in it! All that time wasted on hatred and mistrust!"

"FILI!" Thorin shouted, bringing a halt to the rambling tirade. "Or they could have stolen your brother and raised him as their own without us."

"Well, we'll never know." Fili snapped. He marched over to the door leading back inside. Here he stopped, turned, as if unable to keep himself from speaking further. "What is my favorite story to tell?"

Thorin shrugged. "You've told several stories about me, Thrain and Thror."

"Nehili."

At the name of Fili's actual blood father, Thorin's brain came to a sudden, frozen stop. It dawned on him in a horrid moment what had his heir so sharply angry.

"Kili wasn't the only one denied a father." Fili said the words quietly, but with no decrease in his raging ire. He turned went inside, slamming the door heatedly behind him.

Thorin swore roundly and inventively in the chill of the night.

On an upper balcony, hidden in the darkness, Kili closed his dark eyes, despondent.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Did you send her in here to torture me before you confronted me yourself?" Dis asked belligerently once Galadriel left the two of them alone. The room felt so empty once the elf had swept out, but also easier to breathe in.

"No." Elladan told her the plain truth. "I had no knowledge that she would approach you." He'd been shocked to see his mother's mother already with his wife when he'd arrived. She did not usually interfere with personal matters. Yes, she would often have something pithy and wise to say, but Galadriel was no busy-body putting her nose in the fine details of everyday life. Why had she been there? Was it simply that she didn't trust him to be strong enough to confront Dis on his own?

The dwarven princess nodded, unsure why she believed him, yet she did strangely enough. Then she paused, more of a hesitation actually. "You are Elladan, yes?"

The gray-eyed elf drew up sharply, staring down at her. "I am the one you wed, yes."

"When we parted, you were a shadow of a person. The one with life in him was your brother." It was a round-about vague sort of apology for mistaking him for his twin earlier.

"When we parted." He repeated those words as if tasting them on his tongue individually, not as any part of an actual sentence.

Dis drew back her lips in an almost snarl. "When I left, is that better?"

"Better, no. Accurate, yes." Elladan responded in a like tone of voice. "Or how about, when you attempted to kill me."

The dwarrowdam did not pretend that she didn't know what he was talking about. "You wanted to die." She lifted her nose in the air, almost as if daring him to deny her charge. "My being there was making little impact on you."

"Knowing you carried life within you would have made an impact." He said, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone.

"I did not know I was pregnant when I left."

Elladan was across the room in a heartbeat, staring down at her startled face. He hissed sharply, making her nostrils flare at his closeness. "Liar!"

"No! That is NOT something you can call me! I have never lied to you!" Dis fairly vibrated with outrage, leaning up toward him as she rose on her toes though still not equal in height.

"I leave with nothing of yours! Sound familiar? What is a child if not mine?" He roared into her face. He blinked down at her and then tore himself away, stalking to the other side of the room and shaking out his hands as if in effort to keep them off of her.

Dis swallowed hard, finding it difficult. "I promise you, I did not know I carried Kili until two months after leaving. I just couldn't stand being there in that place anymore."

The tall elf looked warily at her, then turned his head away, clearly disbelieving. "And then? You did not summon me, nor my family. No word, no notice."

"No." She could hardly deny it. "I did not."

"Did you ever even consider it?"

Dis sighed, then shook her head truthfully. "No. You were hardly in any shape to be a father."

"And what kind of mother were you?" He said rather bitterly. "The kind that lets her children go hungry rather than reach out to those who you knew had plenty? The kind that puts her pride and selfishness before the needs of her sons?"

The dwarrowdam paled, showing those words at least had met their intended target. "It wasn't that bad." She denied, though the words sounded weak even to her own ears. "Everyone gave a bit extra to Kili, trying to make sure he grew well and strong."

"Why? Because he didn't mature quite as quickly in a physical sense? Elves develop their minds earlier than their bodies. Did you even consider asking?" Elladan stared at her, his mind racing with all he wanted to say, and knowing none of it really mattered now. "Why did you ask me to be Fili's Nute-'adad if you were preparing to leave?"

Dis closed her eyes in pain, shaking her head. "I wasn't preparing to leave, I didn't know I was going to go until I received word of grandfather's death."

"Why, Dis?"

The dwarrowdam shook her head.

"Because you didn't think I would do it." Elladan guessed, having thought about it ever since his journey to Erebor had begun. "You put the obstacle in my path, wanting to keep my brother and I separate from your son. Fili enjoyed us and you couldn't stand it. You thought I wouldn't put forth the effort, so you made it a requirement."

"He wasn't your child!" She nearly choked on the words, the memories. How painful it had been to see Elrohir coaxing smiles and adventures out of Nehili's son. "His father should have been there!"

"You think I didn't know that? That we weren't aware? Your husband was gone, but Fili was right there in front of you, of us! His life didn't end when Nehili died." Elladan shook his head at her. "We would have loved him, we would have loved both of them."

Dis shook her head, backing away as she did so.

"That's what you couldn't have. Your sons looking to us. Not for anything. Not for training, not for love, not even for food or shelter."

"We were hardly starving!" Dis hissed, rounding on him, her color high as she glared. "Yes, times got tough once or twice, but we had each other and we were more than fine! My sons are dwarven princes! Heirs to Erebor, and I was not going to share them with you! A dying elf who could barely bestir himself to more than eating or drinking. You were already nothing more than a ghost!"

"And you kept the one thing from me that might have changed that." Elladan said quietly. "The two things."

Dis threw up her hands in a dismissive gesture.

Elladan nodded at her. "Nothing we say here today can change the past."

The dark-haired dwarrowdam cut her eyes back to her erstwhile husband. "No."

"Kuilaith has decided not to leave Erebor, not in Fili's lifetime."

Dis dared to take a breath.

"So, for the time being, neither will I."

She glared, far more unsettled by Elladan's oath than she cared to admit, even to herself.

"Wife. You and I must learn to be at least civil to one another. For I will not have my son upset on the matter." Elladan tried to civilize his tone to something approximating calmness. "Kuilaith loves you very much."

"He doesn't need you." Dis licked her lips, wondering what words there might be, what argument there might exist, that would send this elf on his way back to Rivendell.

"You have no idea his needs!" Elladan overran her comment. "The Light of the Eldar is awake within him now and needs training. Training that should have begun at birth."

The dwarrowdam's blue eyes widened with sudden shock and anger. "What have you done to my son?" She yelped.

"Did you really think ignoring the fact that he is part elf made it not so?" Elladan mocked heavily. "Ignoring the truth does not make it go away."

"What have you done to my son?" Dis reiterated, stepping closer as if threatening him.

Elladan eyed the female he supposedly married. To the elves the few words spoken at a ceremony did not make her his wife. And the sex they shared was but a fuzzy memory in his mind, almost unreal. Only Kuilaith's presence upon Middle Earth made him feel bound to this dwarrowdam in any way. "We are going to have to deal with each other for a long time."

"Are you trying to turn Kili from me? Like you did Fili?" Dis hissed at him. "Is that what the red-headed witch is for?"

Elladan's eyes blinked slowly, then he smiled at her, which only enflamed her ire. "Fili's anger did not come from me or mine, look not in our direction for that. As for Tauriel, I feel they are both too young to wed, but no one else here agrees with me. Especially Kuilaith."

"Kili! His name is Kili!"

"Kuilaith is a strong and wonderful name, for a strong and wonderful lad. Do not disparage what you do not understand." Chided Elladan with a stern glare. "We do not take his Dwarven name from him, we only add to him what should have been his from the beginning. And, I should not warn you, for I owe you nothing. But I will tell you that if you attempt to step between Kuilaith and Tauriel you will get burned. And not by me." Elladan said pointedly.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Celeborn watched his wife, a favorite pastime really, but this time he did so with some concern. He casually twirled his wine glass in the privacy of their guest room, a spacious if rather sparsely furnished, area.

Yet, what was there was richly decorated and above reproach. He eyed the comfortable and plush chair that had been provided, then he looked over at the lovely female who should be sitting in that chair and sharing a glass of wine with him before retiring for the night.

He knew better, still, he could not help himself. "What bothers you?"

"If I knew, it would not bother me so." Came the expected response.

Celeborn raised an eyebrow at her, not in question, but in invitation to share her thoughts.

His golden-haired delight frowned slightly and shook her head. "It is the Lady Dis."

"Unpleasant." Celeborn commented on both the female in question, and the situation.

Galadriel turned her face away, looking off into a distance that could not be seen for the stone walls in the way. Her gaze unfocused in a way that her husband had seen many times in several millennia, and it still made him smile. "What do you see?" He asked, he always asked.

"Dis is not a dwarrowdam easily swayed, bent or ruled. Strong." Galadriel said slowly. "I do not see that she would have ever agreed to marry a second time."

"Thror was convincing?" Celeborn asked, knowing his role was to prod and poke and ask questions to help his wife clarify her thoughts. She did it for him as well, when their positions were reversed and he was mulling over some knot of a problem.

Galadriel shook her head slightly, looking as if she could hear or see something unpleasant. "More than that."

The elf lord paused, his wine nearly at his lips when he lowered his glass. "Kuilaith had a theory that the Deceiver would use such a marriage to tear the Elves and Dwarves apart. Is it his hand you sense in this?"

"No. Yes." Galadriel gave an actual growl low in her throat, a musical and yet threatening sound that she rarely offered. "Maybe."

"You are so beautiful to me." Celeborn interjected, loving it when she made that noise. He smiled to himself, knowing his comment would only irritate her further. So it was with some surprise he noted her stunned expression as she rounded on him, her eyes widened. "Love?"

"They are not beautiful to each other." The Lady said breathily. "Neither Elladan nor Dis have a love for each other. Further, they do not find anything attractive to pull them together. So, how?"

Celeborn, with long practice, waited his wife out. There was a time to question, and a time to keep quiet. Long years together had taught him the difference. He sipped his wine, savoring the fine rich flavor and the smoothness of the vintage. And he kept quiet, until he saw the small finger on her left hand begin to twitch. When the twitch turned into a tapping against her skirt, he cleared his throat. "Magic? But no one unknown to us was around. Excepting the dwarves."

"It would not have served their purpose." Galadriel answered absently. "Unless the purpose was always to steal a child, but they did not raise Kuilaith to be a tool or weapon against us, but simply loved him."

Celeborn nodded carefully, his own fine mind racing. "Potions?"

"Perhaps." Galadriel allowed, in a tone that told him she'd already arrived at that conclusion. "No, probable. In the mirror I saw plenty of drinks provided, and just at the right moments."

Celeborn blinked, not having realized she'd used her mirror to look into the past. "Elrond was in a desperate place, trying to save both twins." He alluded to the fact that if Elladan had faded, so might have his brother.

"No." This time the Lady didn't sound quite as sure, but her voice firmed as she continued. "I do not see it in him, and if it had been he'd have admitted such. And this might not be the work of a potion alone."

"No?" Celeborn questioned. "Perhaps something persuasive? Like Saruman's voice. I do admit I thought I heard him using it today to sway the crown prince." He saw his wife turn in some surprise, her eyes finding his. "Nothing nefarious. An urge to calm himself after he exploded with temper this evening."

Galadriel gave a short nod, barely a movement at all, as her mind raced on ahead. "And nothing nefarious might have been meant back then either. In fact, could the White Wizard have decided to try and solidify closer alliances between Elves and Dwarves by facilitating such a marriage?"

The elf lord of Lothlorien paused, trying to find the flaws in the logic. "The only reasons for him to do something like that are three fold."

"Three?" Galadriel asked.

"To build a stronger alliance, or as Kuilaith suggested, as a means to end all future bonds."

"The third?" She queried.

Lord Celeborn shrugged slightly. "He was deceived by Sauron, much as the elves were in the original forging of the One Ring." He looked at his wife, reading the line of her jaw and the tension behind her eyes. "Shall we speak with him?"

"Yes." She said in a midnight-dark voice that portended nothing good if she didn't get the answers she was seeking.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"This doesn't look much like a celebration." Fili said, coming back to his chambers from the communal showers. "And I'm not an overly tall red-head either."

Kili did not respond to the teasing, staying slumped in the chair beside the fireplace in his sibling's room. "I'm sorry."

"For giving her three beads?" The blond tried to deflect the moment, though he knew it was a doomed effort. He pushed his still damp hair behind his ears.

Kili shook his head, his messy braids flying. Only the one braid holding Tauriel's nashatal beads was neat and holding properly. His brother had obviously made an effort there, Fili noted.

"Alright. What are you sorry for?" The blond sighed, knowing he'd get no peace, not tonight. He tossed his wash things onto a nearby table, sorting through the things and putting them aside. His room was much tidier than his sibling's.

"Making you give up your father."

Fili's hand froze on his comb. He blinked. "You heard." He guessed, finally putting his things away before turning to lean back against the table, crossing his arms.

"That's my fault, not mam's." Kili sounded absolutely miserable.

The older brother watched the younger, his jewel-bright gaze saddened. "That is not the only source of my anger. And while you might claim her, I no longer do."

Kili flicked him a hurt look. "Does that mean we're not brothers anymore?"

"Fool. Of course we're brothers." Snorted the blond prince. "I disowned her, not you."

"I'm the reason for …" Kili waved one hand wildly in the air. "Everything." He waited for his brother's denial.

"Yes, you are."

The brunet's eyes went wide and he suddenly felt sick on his stomach. "But …"

"You are the reason I'm still here. You are the reason I have laugh lines." He exaggerated. "You are the reason uncle still has his sanity, and the reason mam ….your mam, stole a great treasure. You are the reason a tall red-head left her home and you are the reason she's here underneath a mountain of all places."

Kili smiled wanly, though it didn't last long.

"You are the reason some of the most powerful elves in Middle Earth travelled across the land at the notice of but a moment."

Kili made a rude noise at that one.

"You're the reason we're not dead."

At that, the young brunet shook his head. "No."

"If the elves hadn't come to claim you, then you and I and Thorin would be dead. Possibly even Tauriel and some of the others." He pointed at his sibling. "You little brother are definitely the reason."

"I didn't mean for you to give up your da."

At the sound of the too young voice, Fili grimaced. "I did it for you, not because you asked. And mam …your mam, she was the one who kept your father's name from you."

"She didn't want to lose me."

"Or share." Fili sneered, then he shook his head, his blond mustache beads moving as he spoke. "She could have told Thorin. Embarrassing, but she could have done it. Uncle would have kept her secret, he wouldn't have wanted the elves having any claim on you or him or anyone in the family."

Kili licked his lips rather nervously as he listened.

"The dwarves would have done what they did tonight. They'd not have liked it, but they would have stood behind her. Protected her and you. I wouldn't have had to give up singing my father's name, and you wouldn't have had to put up with people speculating behind your back."

The young brunet nodded, frowned, shook his head and then sighed heavily. "Maybe she didn't want the other dwarves to know I wasn't pure blooded."

Fili's jaw flexed as he grimaced. "That female's selfishness stole you from the elves." He held up on finger. "Stole your father from you." He continued holding up fingers as he made his points.

"Fili?"

"She kept you in the dark about your da, kept you hurting and wondering and feeling abandoned. She let me give up Nehili and claim bloodline through her and Thorin."

"You love Thorin."

"It should have been my choice because I love uncle, not because I needed to protect you!"

Kili drew back, hurting as he jumped to his feet. "I never asked you to protect me."

"And I never asked you to stay." Fili's jaw clenched, regretting the words immediately as he saw the pain in his younger brother's eyes.

But Kili didn't give him time to take it back. The brunet drew up to his full height and glared at his older sibling. "I don't have to stay, there are other places I can live. Where I'd be welcome!"

"Go on then!"

"I will!"

"I don't see you leaving!"

"Then you're not paying close enough attention!" Kili threw open the door and slammed it shut behind him. The noise echoed through the hallway. Breathing heavily he closed his eyes and leaned against the door. Right as it opened.

Fili jumped back to keep from being fallen upon by Kili. On the floor the younger brother looked up at the older one.

"What are you doing?" The blond asked in a rush.

"Not leaving." Kili mumbled.

"Good. Saves me from stopping you." Fili reached down and held out his hand. Kili's reached up at the exact same moment.

The two brothers pulled and were hugging tightly less than a second later, both muttering how they hadn't meant a single word.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news? Didn't leave you with a cliffhanger after the brothers fought. Bad news? (Not for me) …going on VACATION. Means probably no new chapter next week.


	46. In which Elrond finds no rest

Lord Elrond had barely entered his guest room, much less settled in, before there came a knock on his already open door. His dwarven guide appeared dour faced while he nodded at the elf-lord as Arwen made her presence known. The beautiful brunette elf smiled brilliantly and held out both hands outstretched, behind her the twins watched with amused smiles.

"I have missed you, daughter." Elrond said with quiet grace and dignity, but also quite truthfully. "Rivendell is a poorer place without you." He looked over at his sons, gratified to see them looking far more at ease within the walls of Erebor than when he'd last seen them.

"Rivendell? Not Imladris?" Teased Arwen. "Does our present location beneath the earth itself cause you to use the Common tongue name?"

"Perhaps." The elven father chuckled. "It would be rude to speak in Sindarin I suppose. Since we are guests here."

Arwen clucked her tongue at him. "Guests? That's a word indicating someone invited. Perhaps …invaders?"

Elrohir made a scoffing sound while Elladan rolled his eyes.

Elrond shook his head fondly at his only daughter. "You play with words more so than any toy you held as an elfling." He sighed and offered her a slow smile. "I hesitate to call it a good thing that you are here, though I am of course happy to behold you once more in my sight."

"I like Erebor." The brunette told him, her eyes sparkling. "I find, shocking though you might find it, that I like dwarves. Several of them in fact."

"Your nephew?"

"Fili? Yes. Very much." Arwen deliberately mistook which new relative her father was referring to.

Elrond sighed very slightly to indicate he wasn't exactly amused. "And Kuilaith?"

The she-elf's smile only grew as she laughed. "Well named, that one. So, do you need help unpacking?"

The elf-lord's eyebrows rose as he took a deep breath. "Arwen?"

"There's something I know that I'm not supposed to know." The brunette said coyly, turning to look around the room and not meeting her father's gaze. She studiously avoided her brothers as well.

Elrond opened his mouth to ask, but she answered too quickly. "Sex." The one word made him freeze in place, not out of propriety but of surprise. "Or marriage. It's the same thing actually."

Elladan made a disparaging noise at the back of his throat, while Elrohir merely smiled and shrugged. "Secrets have no staying power around our sister."

"Daughter?" Where was she going with this conversation he wondered? The topic of marital congress was not taboo among elves, though not something commonly discussed.

"He'll be too embarrassed to ask. I heard he refused to even ask Galadriel on the subject." Arwen shrugged as if unsure why her nephew would be sensitive on the subject.

"So, you will ask for him then?" The response was discouraging as Elrond did not appreciate the round-about approach. "I suppose this is for Kuilaith?"

The brunette's eyes moved to catch her father's gaze directly now. "Sorry, no. He doesn't know that I know. He doesn't know that I would ask. He'd be properly horrified I'm sure."

"Yes. He would be. And I would not let him know what you have gleaned from observation and rumor." Elladan said a bit tartly.

Elrond sighed unhappily. "Perhaps that lovely nose of yours should not be in someone else's private business."

Arwen moved toward him, capturing his hands in her own. "Please?"

The elf-lord of Rivendell looked deep into the meltingly pleading eyes of his child. "Oh dear."

Elrohir laughed again, looking at his twin's resigned expression. "Don't be hard on her, you told me you were going to ask father about the situation yourself."

"That doesn't mean Arwen needs to be doing the asking. Especially when Kuilaith wouldn't want her to know a thing about it." Elladan said a bit sharply.

"Would someone just explain the situation?" Elrond finding his regaled patience a bit stretched.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis sat alone in the empty room. Erebor. Home. She blinked her dry eyes as she stared at the bed already made up for her. Nothing. Bone deep weariness ailed her, yet no sleep would be coming her way tonight.

Coming here, her one-time home, should have been the culmination of all her dreams and wishes. How often had she heard her grandfather, father, and brothers talk about Erebor as if the kingdom were some living entity? As if the mountain itself was waiting for them to come back like a lost love.

She'd been ten years old. Almost a babe in arms as Dwarven ages went, she'd been carried out of the mountain and unaware of the monumental nature of the danger that day. She didn't remember Smaug other than brief flashes of smoke, fire, and the sounds of screaming and weeping. Dis could only recall small things from her time as a Princess of Erebor, mostly family related.

Family. Dis groaned aloud. "And here I am." She said to no one, not even an echo in the cold room. The cold and EMPTY room. Where were the celebrations? The joy? Her family? Her sons. Dis choked suddenly, coughing harshly as she caught her breath harshly.

Fili. The dwarrowdam closed her eyes in pain, hearing his harsh words over and over again within her mind. She could see Kili's hesitancy, the caution in his usual ebullient demeanor. Thorin's disappointment and worry had been self-evident as well.

Keeping her son had NOT been a mistake, she was sure of it. Kili was Dwarven through and through, no matter what some elvish witch might say. Sending him off to live with his father? Not even an option. Dis' jaw clenched tightly at the very idea.

The Elladan who'd spoken with her tonight was not the same elf she'd married all those decades ago. No wonder she'd mistaken him for his own twin! Her husband had been a pale ghost, a sheer transparency of himself. Incapable of being a good father.

Dis glanced over at the bed again. It was getting late, yet not yet midnight. And she'd just finished a strenuous journey from Ered Luin all the way to her ancestral home, in winter. Arriving to face her husband for the first time, well …ever if truth be told. This elf was nowhere close to being whom she'd wed at first. She should be exhausted. Near passing out with weariness. Yet she knew that sleep would be a long time coming this night, if at all.

Feeling restless, Dis rose and looked around the room that could have contained a significant amount of her cabin back in Ered Luin. There was no succor to be found here, and no relief in being alone. She headed for the door, unsure of where she would end up.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Oin beamed and petted Gimli's shoulder with a sense of deep family pride while the youngster asked a thousand questions, allowing no time for any answers. The healer chuckled, nodding as he listened, catching one word in every three.

"Slow up there a bit, laddie." Chided an amused Bofur as he pressed a full mug of ale into the hands of both the uncle and nephew. "Give Oin a wee chance to breathe, much less answer."

Gimli gulped his ale, nearly choking himself. Though the spate of questions never slowed as he coughed through some of the words in his supreme eagerness to hear about every glorious moment of the Quest.

Bofur shook his head, tapping the keg to fill another mug. He put the next one in front of his own brother, Bombur, who looked just a tiny bit less happy than anyone else. "Cheer up! You yourself didn't expect the wife and children to make the journey just yet, remember? You told her not until Spring."

Bombur rolled woebegone eyes up at his sibling even as he nodded gamely, draining half of his mug of ale in one long gulp.

Ahriline, having already delivered letters and missives to the Company from left-behind loved ones in Ered Luin, smiled up into her husband's face. Relief to find him alive and uninjured writ large in the reflection of her gaze. She licked her lips, wanting to say so many things that her tongue couldn't seem to form even one coherent word.

Gloin chuckled, cupping her face gently with his own hands. Strength radiated from him, both physical and from the personality that made him the Dwarf he was. "Wife." He whispered proudly.

Her tongue found a word, then a few more. "I am beyond happy to see you whole and victorious." Ahriline's smile trembled a bit as her hand came up to frame his as he held her close, connecting their gazes.

"You thought it couldn't be done." He dared to tease her. Drawing hoots and happy shouts from those dwarrow around them.

The dwarrowdam's eyes widened a bit. "I said no such thing!" She told him a bit tartly, turning her gaze onto those around them. "I said no such thing!"

"You thought it." Gloin leaned in closer, catching the scent that was uniquely hers. "But you sent me off in style, as a proper wife should."

Ahriline sputtered a bit, then laughed. "I never doubted." She bent the truth a bit even as she beamed proudly at her spouse.

Gloin caressed the side of her face with his thumb even as he turned his head to beam at his young son. "Gimli! Lad! Have you grown?" He teased.

The almost-adult Dwarf sighed in exasperation. "Adad …." He didn't even bother to mention that their race stopped growing taller around thirty years of age and he was nearly twice that. His father knew. It was the way his father always greeted him, if away a night or a year.

Gloin released his wife and held out his arms, grinning ear to ear as he turned a circle, as if showing off the large hall to his family. "I bring you Erebor!" He announced, as if he all by himself had freed her from the dragon.

"Fool." Ahriline said lovingly, shaking her head at his antics as Bofur scoffed openly, raising his ale to the red-headed braggart.

"He speaks as if he alone opened the doors to Erebor!" Oin waved his hands in a shooing manner, ruined only by his grin.

Gimli groaned with almost tangible pain. "I should have been here!" He tried not to sound like he was whining, though it had hurt being left behind with his mother like a dwarfling.

Gloin shook his head, reaching for his twin hand axes. Freeing them, he twirled them expertly in order to have the sharp metal gleam in the torchlight.

Gimli grinned proudly, his chest puffing out at the sight of his father. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction and appreciation as well as sheer joy. "There is no finer warrior, father."

"Excepting here." Bofur thumped his chest proudly. "Oh, and here." He clapped Bombur on the shoulder with a wide and cheesy grin. "Or over there." He pointed to Oin next. Everyone laughed in good natured ribbing.

However Gloin didn't join in with the mirth. Instead he took a deep breath and allowed the axes in his hands to spin until the handles were in his palms, the business ends toward himself but the hilts facing his son and heir.

Gimli grinned happily, thrilled to be inside the kingdom his parents had talked about for his entire life. "Your father forged those here, I know the stories. Will you make me some now?"

Gloin raised his eyebrows and made a small gesture with his hands, as if presenting the hilts of his hand axes to his son. "No. I will come up with something else for myself." He paused most meaningfully. "These are for you, my son."

The younger male froze, excitement burgeoning within his eyes, but also hesitation. "Father?"

Bofur, Bombur and Oin all quieted down, watching the important moment between Dwarven father and son. Bofur even took out his large handkerchief while Bombur just used his sleeve.

Ahriline caught her breath, happy down to her smallest toe. She nodded. Yes. This felt right and proper.

The red-bearded merchant and warrior smiled at his son alone, ignoring all others. "Gimli. My father, Groin, forged these in Erebor. With them he defended the mountain. He spoke often about returning here and defeating Smaug." His voice deepened with emotion. "They have been used at Azanulbizar and preserved my life on more than one occasion."

Gimli swallowed hard as he nodded most solemnly, listening with all he had. His eyes gleamed with fierce pride.

"These, beyond all the treasure I can leave you, are the possessions that I hold most dear. Only you and your mam matter more."

Ahriline's eyes didn't leak, but it was a close thing.

Gloin continued, his gaze piercing as he stepped toward his son, his arms still outstretched. Gimli's hands rose and settled lightly upon the hilts of the weapons. "My father made these here. I returned them here, to Erebor. Here, you will wield them as the next in our line. They have tasted the blood of our enemies and sing with the tales of our bravery. You will only add to their, and our, honor."

Gimli smiled with dark intensity, his grip firming upon the hilts of the axes.

"Their story now becomes your story. May you use them wisely and well, follow your king, and always bring honor to your name!" Gloin finished with a small flourish, and a bow.

His son swallowed hard as the father released his hold upon the heirloom weapons, leaving them solely in Gimli's hands.

"May there never be a quest such as this one, ever again." Gloin finished. "But if there is, may they cleave your path clear and bring down your enemies without fail."

"I will bring you honor, father." Gimli swore, testing the weight and balance of the axes he'd held before but had never owned.

Ahriline pressed her hand to her mouth and made a terrific curtsy, dipping her head to acknowledge the depth and tremendous nature of the gift giving. And the giver.

The other male dwarrow roared their approval, lifting mugs in varying degrees of emptiness. But when those mugs slammed down onto the table, they were all drained dry and ready to be refilled.

The father and son whispered together, sharing bits and pieces of what had transpired since they were last together as a family. The wife and mother smiled at them, beyond happy. She glanced around the large hall. They small group was hardly alone. It was late, but not so late as to have everyone gone. Especially with all that had gone on.

With a bone deep sense of satisfaction, she eyed the strong walls of stone and the giant pillars. She herself had been but a small babe when Erebor had fallen. Not even within the kingdom. Her mother had been staying with her own mother at the time, visiting, when word arrived. Yet she had heard tell of Erebor every day of her life. The tales did not bring justice to the reality.

A momentary movement, nothing big, caught her attention. Ahriline saw the back of Dis' skirts as the princess moved away. She thought to call out to her friend, but the other dwarrowdam slipped out into one of the side hallways before she could.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis wasn't even sure where she was going, luckily a voice emanating from the shadows of the hallway drew her to a stop. "Do you know your way?"

"Thorin." Dis' head dropped for a moment, not sure if her battered soul could take any more today. Still, her heart rate sped up so relieved was she to hear his voice. She didn't even question how he'd known she'd be out here, so relieve was she. "I have not yet had a chance to tell you how glad I am to see you. How grateful your quest has been victorious."

The King moved out of the shadows and smiled grimly at her. He lifted his chin toward the mini celebration with Gloin and his family and friends. "He still loves you. No matter how he disapproves, our cousin will stand with you."

Dis nodded, feeling the sting in her eyes from unshed tears. "What I did will confuse many a fine dwarrow." Her voice trailed off leadingly, almost in invitation for her brother to say that he understood.

Thorin grimaced, though he nodded slowly. "You were in a hard position. Thror was not right in asking it of you."

It wasn't full out support, but it also wasn't condemnation. Dis took a steadying breath as she smiled sadly. "Thank you." She would take what she could get.

"What you just saw in there, with Gloin and Gimli." Thorin sounded depressingly resigned. "That's the ideal for dwarrow. The stories, the bloodlines, the weapons, the pride …"

"Father to son." Dis' own voice was filled with bitter scorn. "I couldn't allow Kili to be brought up with Elvish fripperies and false honor. To be suspect by every dwarf he'd ever meet. He is of Durin's Line!"

The King Under the Mountain nodded slowly in partial understanding at least, though he did sigh rather heavily. "I wish only that you had confided in me, back then."

It was the dwarrowdam's turn to offer a sigh of her own. She bit her lip, then shook her head with obvious reluctance. "I didn't want you to look down on him." Thorin's head whipped up as he pierced her with his sapphire eyed gaze. Dis winced as she continued. "I wanted him to be welcome, at least within our own family."

Thorin didn't bother denying that the knowledge that one of his nephew's was part elven would have changed the dynamics of their family. "He would have won me over." The king said, picturing in his mind Kili in full mirth, falling over with laughter and fun.

"He shouldn't of had to." Dis responded in a soft voice. "He was my son, and your heir. He still is." Her heart bled as she left unspoken that her eldest no longer considered her his mother. "You're going to have to be there for them both."

Thorin winced. There were things his sister did not yet know, including the fact that Kili had basically removed himself from succession. He gestured and trusted that she would follow him, which she did. The two ended up in a side chamber with a hearth and a few chairs. "Do you remember this room?"

Dis shook her head sadly as she looked around.

"A retiring chamber, father would let me rest in here between official court meetings that Thror insisted I attend. Her older brother nodded sadly. "You were so young. Dwalin was the one who fought his way to the Ozinafkhur with a troop of dwarrow. Did you know?"

"Yes." Dis answered, wondering where her brother was going with this. His voice hinted he had a dark purpose for this memory.

"I was with father and grandfather. You survived not because of me or them. You would have perished within Erebor's walls if not for Dwalin and others."

The dwarrowdam princess nodded. "I never held that against you. Your place was with them. And there was a dragon." She gestured with both arms to indicate something huge. "Thorin?"

The king paused unhappily. "I will be there for my sister-sons. Always. Just as I am here for you. But Dis, Fili's anger, it should be aimed at me."

Dis' attention snagged and her eyes widened on her only living sibling. "Brother?"

"I knew he was angry. I knew an explosion was coming. I …I thought it would be directed at me, not you."

"Thorin, please?" She nearly begged, wondering what had her stoic brother so bothered.

With utter humility, Thorin sank into a seat, looking pointedly at the other until his sister joined him. "I fell to the sickness of Thror." He began, a bitter twist to his lips. His stomach churned at the memories his own words invoked within him.

Dis shook her head in disbelief as Thorin unfolded the events of Thranduil's kingdom, Kili's wound, and all that had transpired henceforth from there.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman spread his hands out in a graceful move even as he let his facial expression dip into confusion. Putting on an act for his current company. "I do not understand your question."

Galadriel sat perched forward on the elegantly carved chair despite the fact that it was built for one of Dwarven height rather than for a much taller elf. She should have looked ridiculous, but somehow she radiated elegance and beauty. "Did you use your Voice on Dis or Elladan, were there potions involved?"

"You know that I would not betray my own teachings in such an ill-conceived manner." The White Wizard said plainly and with sincerity dripping from every pore of his being. "However, I will admit to attempting to speak with both of the youngsters at the time. And I do believe that Lord Elrond had been dosing his son in healing draughts in order to keep nutrients within his body as Elladan had ceased to eat at that time." He paused most tellingly. "I have no doubts that those potions were exactly as Elrond said, and nothing more."

Galadriel frowned very slightly.

Saruman pretended not to watch her, though it was a lie. He defended Elrond in a move meant to cast doubt on the elven father, rather than support him even though his words were otherwise. Suddenly he took a small breath as if remembering something. "I do believe I may have made a tonic for the Lady Dis before the wedding, if I recall right. However it was merely to calm her nerves, and would not cause …" He paused delicately as if reluctant to address the topic in front of her. "Arousal."

Galadriel sniffed, as if amused that the wizard danced around the topic of sex. As if she didn't know the word, or it's meaning. The Wizards were the ones who did not marry or carry on in such a manner. Not the elves.

"I would not use a power such as you know I hold to persuade anyone to do something against their very nature. Nor would I use it on an ally of any kind." Saruman said with only a hint of the bone deep smugness he truly felt.

Galadriel's expression did not change one tiny bit.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

There was no sound to give her away. He just knew. Kili was smiling before he even turned to see Tauriel standing behind him. But then again, he had sent for her. "My love."

The red-head gave him a lingering look, then nodded at his feet where he was standing barefooted upon a lush blanket of fur. She spied several puffy pillows next to his feet, while the boots she'd gifted him were lined up next to the door. "What is this place?" She eyed the large chamber, turning in a circle to take it all in.

"This is one of the rooms where the explosives are created." Kili's voice teased her and she caught herself smiling without thought.

"Are you expecting our encounter to be explosive?"

Kili laughed, though his mood wasn't completely easy, she could tell as he shifted his weight. He looked unsure of …her, perhaps?

Tauriel moved to where his boots were lined up, slowly and deliberately she removed her own. This drew a relieved grin from her dark-haired prince as he moved to sit down, reclining against the large pillows, waiting for her.

"Explosives?"

"Mining." The dark-haired prince waved one hand in a wide circle as if to call her attention to the fact that the entire Dwarven kingdom was essentially a big mine. "The chamber has been cleaned out, but not yet fully repaired and it needs to be stocked with essential materials. Still, as a private place it's not so bad."

"Private?" Tauriel questioned, tilting her head at him as she walked slowly and gracefully to him. She sank down onto the luxurious fur, keeping her gaze locked onto his.

Kili nodded, catching his tongue between his teeth for a moment and drawing in a long breath. Finally he exhaled in a prolonged sigh. "Things were supposed to go differently tonight." He said, understating things as he reached out and playfully tugged on her nashatal braid.

"Not your fault." The she-elf assured him that she understood.

Kili's eyes dropped down to her hands and a small blush stained his cheeks. "My mother wasn't very welcoming to you."

Tauriel said nothing, not saying aloud that Dis had called her a witch. She stayed silent, as she wasn't quite sure how to respond. It was clear that Kili was very fond of his mother, which wasn't actually a bad thing. Yet it was also clear that his family was in the middle of some serious drama.

"Please be patient." Kili said slowly, then sighed. "It might take some time to win her over."

Tauriel said nothing for a moment, thinking that winning the Lady Dis over might actually be harder than fighting a dragon. "Have I ever not been patient?"

"You gave me the third bead not but a minute or two after the second bead." Kili said in a deadpan voice. Then his face split into an engaging grin. "I'm irresistible! But it doesn't speak well of your patience." He teased outrageously.

Now it was the red-head's turn to chuckle before finally nodding. "It seems you are."

"It is private, you realize." Kili raised both eyebrows at her, his dark eyes gleaming in the lantern light in a most romantic way.

Tauriel glanced around, then startled slightly. "No chaperone?"

Kili laughed and nodded, catching his tongue betwixt his teeth and grinning at her before admitting something. "Father has taken great pleasure in pointing out the chaperones followed us according to Dwarven traditions."

"Yes." Tauriel breathed out the word breathlessly as she felt Kili shift minutely toward her. He leaned in closer, letting the rich, clean scent she associated with him to tease her senses. A shiver ran down her back in anticipation. "What have you done?"

"Me?" The dwarven prince shook his head. "You."

Tauriel blinked twice in rapid succession. "Me?"

"Well, what father doesn't realize is …Dwarven chaperone's are no longer required once the third bead is offered and accepted." Kili chuckled gruffly as he tilted his head to peer up at her in order to gauge her response. "And I certainly won't be the one to inform him."

Tauriel caught her breath, feeling almost boneless with a sudden craving to touch him. A lifetime of over 600 years of reticence held her hand in check, though her nerves twitched. There was so much left unsaid, undone. So many obstacles and problems. Dis' arrival, Fili's anger, Thorin's potion, and ….

"Kisses are promises to elves." Kili leaned in and nipped at her dangling nashatal braid with his teeth, barely missing as he whispered. "To dwarves, these beads are also a promise."

"Kili …I …we have a lot to think about." Tauriel stopped as his hand rose and cupped the side of her face most gently. "We …what happened tonight …"

"No." He said the word like a whisper. "Tonight was hard, tomorrow will be hard again. But right now? Here with you? Before Elladan figures out there's no chaperone? I want to make you some promises."

Tauriel's eyelids drifted shut as he leaned toward her, erasing all distance between them. Whisper soft, his lips traced hers. "I promise myself to you. I can't offer a kingdom, or maybe not even a title."

Her hand rose to where he held her face still, placing her palm against the back of his hand. Moisture filled her closed eyes, though no tears fell. Her lips tingled beneath his breath.

"I can't promise my family will behave." Kili's mouth moved against hers into a tentative smile. "Either family actually."

"Love." Tauriel's lips formed the word, though she could not manage to say it aloud. Still, he seemed to 'hear' her as he deepened the kiss for a moment, only reluctantly pulling back enough to rest his forehead against hers.

"I can't even promise when I will be able to marry you, as it could be any time in the next twenty years according to the healers."

"What are you promising?" She nearly choked on the words, her emotions and nerves all tangled up within her.

"To love you forever." Kili said simply as a single tear finally escaped from her still closed eyes, falling down to wet his thumb as he cradled her cheek. "Tomorrow we can talk over all our problems. But tonight? I just want to tell you what you mean to me."

Tauriel leaned back slightly, opening her jewel bright eyes to see him staring into them with love and a deep yearning. She caught her breath in wonder. "Promise me."

Possessive satisfaction shone in his gaze as he brought their lips back together in a lingering touch as he did exactly as she asked.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Lord Elrond of Rivendell, guest within the Dwarven kingdom, moved across the room provided for him with some of his clothing to hang up properly now that his daughter had finally left him alone. He passed the door to his room without thought, not even taking notice of the beauty of the carved reliefs thereupon.

When he turned, he only realized the door had been originally closed because now it was not.

Lady Galadriel, the Lady of the Golden Wood stood framed there though no sound had accompanied her arrival. She stared spookily at him, not even blinking as she waited for him to respond.

Elrond smiled wearily at her. "You did thus to me the first time we met." He reminded her. "When I was a herald for Gil-Galad."

The uncanny gaze full of starlight made into the shape of eyes finally took a slow blink.

The elf-lord gestured for the Lady to enter his guest chambers, though she took no step forward. "Galadriel?"

"What inducements did you offer the son of my child to enter into his marriage with the Lady Dis?" The voice carried like wind through his room, though her mouth never moved.

Elrond let one perfectly arched eyebrow rise over his left eye. "Am I to be scolded like an elfling before his tutor?" It was a protest even though his expression remained cool and his voice even.

There was no response from the golden Lady. Her presence was like a near tangible weight within the very air about him. Breathing felt labored. The tall elf-lord nodded, to indicate he'd heard her question and was considering his response. Finally he simply leveled his own gray eyes upon the Lady. "I will admit to begging, pleading, and outright bullying behavior. I used extortion and bribery and shamelessly made use of Elrohir and Arwen as well as anyone and anything else I could think of in order to keep my son in this world."

"Did you drug him?"

The words were icily spoken, drawing a small shiver through him despite his calm demeanor. "Merely something to sooth his nerves, allow him to rest and actually sleep. Also some nutrients to keep him from fading, his appetite was very poor."

"To bend him to your will?"

At this Elrond drew up sharply, his eyes flashing with the force of his own temper and outrage. He hissed out a long breath. "You know better than that. His will was ever his own." He did not bring up his terrible memories of that time and how it had hollowed him out from the inside to watch the life draining from his child. "No such thought was entertained."

Galadriel made a sound deep in her throat and finally she moved, walking into Elrond's room looking highly perturbed. "Did you make anything for the Lady Dis …to help her …sleep?" The words were a clear insinuation.

Stiff to the point of appearing as if carved of stone, Elrond sneered.

"Tell me!"

"No, I did no such thing. To either!"

Galadriel suddenly nodded, and turned. Her eyes were no less full of starlight, but much of the surety was missing. Elrond made a distressed sound, moving as if to cross to her until she shook her head at him. "Someone did."

Shock. Elrond shook his head. Galadrial took an aching breath as she spoke further. "I have seen it."

Elrond, Lord of Imladris, could not keep the incredulity out of his voice. "King Thror? Thrain? No. They would not have had the knowledge much less the will to do so." Elrond said with a negative shake of his head. "Saruman had to do quite a bit of convincing with both of them."

"And with you." Galadriel said, something almost pleading in her voice. "Please tell me that you were the author of the wedded couple's ability to share a bed."

Elrond stared at her, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and memories, none finding solid ground within his head. "What are you asking?"

Galadriel moved to stare at the hearth fire, watching the flames dance as if uncaring of her mood. Suddenly the fire moved as if a burst of wind had whipped through the room though nothing else stirred, not even the soft floaty folds of her dress. The fire just seemed to fight an unknown and unseen foe until there was almost nothing but embers.

"My Lady?" Elrond whispered, feeling the weight of power within his guest chamber. Tasting her anger and confusion in a way he had not seen since Celebrian had sailed West. No, this was more than that even.

"Saruman can no longer be trusted." The words were not spoken aloud but only in the most private corner of his mind.

Elrond stopped breathing for the longest moment. If she'd announced that the Western lands had suddenly fallen into the sea he would have been less shocked.

Galadriel looked up at the elf who had married her daughter. "I am …unsure." She admitted with a small voice so unlike her usual self.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Why did you tell me this?" Dis stared down at her work roughened hands. Hardly the elegant and smooth fingers that should belong to a princess.

Thorin snorted with derision. "The story is already out there. I needed you to hear it from me. Rather than from others."

"You left my children to die." Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears. She spread her fingers out with empty space between them as she sat back, staring over at the one person who had ever been the steadfast rock of her life. "Why?"

"I was sick." Thorin said with bald truth. "My head and my judgement were clouded. I have …no excuse."

"Fili and Kili, left behind in this Lake Town. Sending a dragon down upon their heads with fire and death in the wake of his wingspan." She sounded horrified, unable to look at her brother.

Thorin winced, hearing the utter emptiness in her tone. "I was as bad as Thror at his worst. No. I was worse."

Dis stood suddenly, pacing to the other side of the small chamber. "That excuses nothing!"

The king nodded guiltily. "I have tried to apologize to them both."

"They have cut you off?" She asked, her eyes wide as saucer plates.

"No." Thorin admitted gruffly. "They say they forgive me. That they understand I was sickened in the mind. They still follow me."

Dis opened her mouth, but could find no response to give. She turned and stared at the smooth expanse of stone making up one wall of the room.

"I have failed you. I gained a kingdom, yes. But I nearly lost all that actually matters to me above all else." Thorin rubbed wearily at his face.

Dis laughed, though no mirth stained her tone.

Shocked, Thorin spread his fingers and peered at her before dropping his hands entirely. "Sister?"

"You failed them. I lied to them. Is it any wonder that Kili has fallen for an elf witch?"

The king winced slightly, pressing his lips together tightly for a moment. "I explained how she saved his life. More than once."

"To gain a throne."

Thorin snorted. "Kili removed himself as Fili's heir. Naming himself his brother's shield instead."

Dis made a face, shaking her head in denial. "There is no reason he has to give up his place in the royal line."

Thorin sighed, rolling his head to release some of his tension. "You've not been paying attention."

The dwarrowdam snarled at her older sibling.

The king stared at her until her gaze dropped slightly. "No matter how I love him, no matter how much any dwarrow loves the lad …he is not fully dwarrow."

"And if you hadn't gone to Rivendell none of this would have come to light." Dis hissed.

Thorin's eyebrows snapped together furiously. "You think that changes the make-up of his blood?"

"He could have gone his whole life not knowing!" Dis said insistently. "Kili was happy as a Dwarven prince, following you!"

The King Under the Mountain stood, placing his hands regally behind his back as he stared at the furious dam that was his only living sibling. "Yes. He would have lived life happily as a Dwarf. But what of after?"

Dis gave him a quick look of confusion, though her nose was still haughtily up in the air.

"After. Dear sister. After I died. After Fili died of old age. After you died. After everyone Kili ever knew and loved died and he lived on. Young, hale and not knowing why he was living over a thousand years longer than any dwarf has a right to! Would he be happy then?"

A shocked breath and a pale face were his answer as Dis reached out to catch her balance on a nearby chair. Thorin nodded at her, not bothering to blunt his temper at the moment.

"Your way would have left your son hurting, alone, and in the dark. Wondering why." Thorin pointed authoritatively at his sister. "I understand why you'd want to keep him fully dwarrow, but the fact is. He's not."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Lord Elrond watched the sunrise on the outer edifice that marked the entrance to Erebor. He'd not slept within, choosing instead to sit out in the dark communing with the stars and moon. Thinking.

"Cold perch."

The tell elf-lord cast his gaze downward, though his head did not move. He was unsurprised to see the smiling face of the newest addition to his family. "Kuilaith."

"Do you always sit outside all night in the winter?"

"No." Came the darkly amused voice. "I wanted a place to think."

The dark-haired prince scratched his head and shrugged. "They gave you a room. Is that not private enough?"

"Evidently not." Elrond responded dryly, thinking of all his visitors of the previous night. He finally turned his head to peer at the son of his son. "You did not find your room private enough either. I looked for you quite late. Your chambers were empty."

A slight flush stained Kili's cheeks as he smiled sheepishly and looked away.

"The evening spent with your newly betrothed?" Lord Elrond queried.

Kili shrugged, not commenting outright.

"Now you have questions you wish to put to me as a healer." Elrond nodded.

The brunet coughed, cleared his throat, and then shook his head. "Actually, everyone's looking for you. I just happened to see you out here." He didn't mention it was from the balcony of Tauriel's guest room when he'd escorted her back to her chambers but a few minutes ago.

"Ah." Elrond stood, shaking out and smoothing his fine robes as he started back toward Erebor.

Kili watched him for a moment, then hurried to catch up. "But now that you bring it up, being a healer and all. Do you mind if I ask you a question or two?"

"I have too many questions and no answers to speak of." Elrond said to himself.

Kili gave him an odd look as the two headed inside.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wasn't exactly easy to write, but I hope you enjoyed the end result!


	47. In which the heat is turned up

Tauriel was up and about early, despite having stayed up very late the previous evening. With Kili. A secretive smile played lightly upon the curve of her lips as she entered the main hall.

Bright green eyes quickly scanned the area. The Lady Dis had arrived last night and instantly the dynamics between the Elves and Dwarves had turned into quicksand. She'd been hoping to spot Kili, or even his brother. But neither were in evidence.

Glorfindel wasn't seated anywhere, and although the red-head caught sight of Lady Arwen and her twin brothers Tauriel didn't feel right going over to join them. It wasn't even a High Elf or caste situation. It was the weight of the three beads hanging alongside her face.

She'd basically asked Kili to marry her, and he'd accepted. How was his family going to react?

"Ahem." The throat clearing was deliberately attention seeking. Tauriel turned her gaze onto the grinning dwarrowdams, recognizing a friendly ambush when she saw one. Though it surprised her that they were seeking her out so openly, now that Princess Dis was back in Erebor and had made her dislike of a she-elf marrying her son known. Or did they know?

Tauriel made the proper hand gestures indicating friendship, greeting and well wishes as she dipped her head politely. "I'm not in high regard of the royal family, as it were." She warned in a near whisper.

Sealyn's grin never faded, in fact, it grew. "Perhaps a certain member, but to others your esteem only grows."

An elegantly, though naturally, arched eyebrow rose in response. "Oh?"

Brunere shrugged. "If you want to put off the entire Line of Durin, you would have to have NOT supported the king. As you did last eve."

"Or, not have gone to comfort the crown prince." Pointed out Sealyn in a sweetly mocking tone of voice.

"Oh!" Brunere pretended to get a 'new' thought. "You really shouldn't have risked …well, everything …to protect both princes. More than once."

Sealyn pasted on a patently fake frown as Tauriel sighed in resignation. "And you really shouldn't have made a certain young dwarrow prince ecstatic by giving him the final two beads!"

Brunere nodded ruefully, letting her eyes go wide. "Bofur said Kili was adorably over the moon this morning." She confided.

Tauriel gave the two dams helpless looks as she took a deep breath. "Doesn't her dislike of me mean that you two need to watch out for being close to me?"

Sealyn's smile faded for real this time as she shot a quick look over at her long-time friend. "Tauriel? I'll forgive you, since you're new to dwarrow society."

Brunere nodded solemnly as the other dwarrowdam continued.

"Friendships are offered and accepted, not to be dictated by law or anything else." Sealyn waved a hand between the three females of two differing races.

"Yes, it's awkward." The violet-eyed healer said with quiet earnestness. "But we don't withdraw from you. Nor will we withdraw from the Lady Dis. We only lose honor if we did not uphold our friendship."

"If ordered to do so?" Tauriel couldn't help but asking.

Sealyn shrugged hesitantly. "Let us hope it never comes to that." She didn't mention that Dis did not have direct authority to banish Tauriel or end anyone from befriending her. Though Dwarvish society wasn't that simple, or that cut and dried. There were ways to turn opinions away from the red-headed she-elf. Yet the two young dwarrowdams hoped it never came to that. Since they'd arrived at Erebor, they had slowly come to warm to the tall stranger. And ever since deciding to help her acclimate to dwarrow ways, they'd actually come to consider her ….a friend.

As if sensing her Sealyn's thoughts, the violet eyed dam suddenly smiled. "We're here to help."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Calbrinia whistled under her breath in awe and appreciation when she walked into the main hall of Erebor. EREBOR! The legend was now a reality. She pressed her foot down firmly on the stones beneath her. Dwarven boots once again walking the corridors, not dragon claws. No longer. She smiled in grim satisfaction.

Still. This was not the home she hoped to make for herself. She wondered of the layout of the Iron Hills, how did the two compare? With that thought in mind, she scanned the room seeking the leader from that land.

A flash of long red-hair on an elf caught her attention. But what kept her attention for a moment longer was the presence of two she knew extremely well. Good friends. Talking with the she-elf in an animated matter. A friendly manner?

"Right side, near the column, whole group."

Calbrinia showed no hint of being startled by the unexpected voice of the person who had walked up behind her, unheard and unnoticed. Hinnin swept right past her, ostensibly looking as if he'd not said a thing. Casually she glanced in the direction the elf had hinted towards.

Exactly as he'd said, there was a large group of Dwarves. At the center of those standing there she had no doubt she'd find Dain Ironfoot though he wasn't currently in sight. She would have thanked the tall elf, but he was already half-way across the room and heading for a small group of his own race. She smiled to herself as she glanced over toward her own friends, catching Brunere's eyes. She flashed a quick hand sign saying she'd be over in but a moment. So what if her friends were speaking with a she-elf? One who wild rumors claimed was betrothed to the youngest prince. Hinnin was an elf too, and friendly enough with Dain. That was the only endorsement she needed.

The beautiful battle-maiden smiled deftly at each new dwarrow that went out of his way to make sure she saw them, all while trying to walk only a few feet from the main entrance over to the seating area where she knew she'd find whom she was seeking.

There were no spots available around Dain as he talked animatedly with his lieutenants, catching up on all he'd missed while journeying. Calbrinia could hear his voice carrying over the grouping, but the area was far too crowded to approach.

The dwarrowdam showed no hesitation as she carried herself up to stand behind the group. She tapped an unsuspecting dwarrow on the shoulder and he threw a curious glance behind him, only to end up doing a double take at the young and pretty female. He smiled hopefully at her, but she flicked her glance toward the still unseen speaker. The warrior grinned like a fool and stepped aside for her, pulling two others with him as they looked around to see what the fuss was about.

The warriors from the Iron Hills all smiled at her as they made way, being nudged by their fellows while being given discrete hand signs. A few still tried to catch her eye, until another dwarrow elbowed them or knocked them aside as hand signals flew through the group as the ones who'd been with Dain on the recent trip to Ered Luin all nodded and smiled in Calbrinia's direction.

A few gasped breaths showed the meanings were getting through. Dwarrowdams had sought out Dain's company for years, but his warriors who already knew Calbrinia were letting the others know that THIS one? Dain wasn't as opposed to as the others in the past.

Calbrinia's smile widened in appreciation as she maneuvered herself into the coveted spot next to the Ironfoot. No shame or shyness in the dwarrowdam as she waited to be noticed.

Dain noticed when his warriors seemed to suddenly grow distracted. And not being stupid, he correctly interpreted the signs, the smiles, and finally the glances. He didn't have to look behind him to see Calabrinia, he pretty much knew she'd be standing there. He looked anyway. Just because he wanted to.

He noticed her smile first, then the slim yet strong column of her throat and the soft creamy skin. Her bright eyed gaze was clear and focused, on him. Dain couldn't help but chuckle, even shaking his head in bemusement, though his manner showed he was not anything but welcoming. This more than all else got his warriors to eye the pretty battle-maiden even more speculatively. Smiles of welcome and hope greeted her as the Ironfoot's followers eyed her carefully. Taking their cue from Dain himself, they made more formal noises of welcome and outright greeting.

"No shyness in ye, lass." Dain said proudly in lieu of anything more formal. In fact, the very lack of a courteous greeting indicated a certain level of familiarity which was itself a signal to all of the Iron Hills dwarrow.

"Would you want any?" Calbrinia asked him, bowing her head in greeting. She returned his lack of anything formal, taking her cue from him. The crowd around them murmured.

Dain looked around at his people with a frown. Eyes immediately went up toward the ceiling or off to the side, even while every ear seemed to turn their way.

"Nay, nay." The Ironfoot waved his hands to indicate he was well pleased with the way she was. "What can I do for you this fine morn?"

"You're busy." She acknowledged his high position within the Dwarven world. "But I wouldn't mind an introduction to the King and his heirs."

This caused several to shake their heads, or simply look confused even while still pretending to look away. Hadn't she just indicated a wish to be near the Ironfoot? Why was she looking to be introduced to King Thorin II?

Dain sighed heavily, catching on without fail. He smiled and ran a hand over his beard.

"You said you wouldn't entertain the notion of walking out with me until I'd met them." Calbrinia said to him, though her words were for Dain's followers.

The warriors nodded as they realized her meaning, subtly relaxing. Eyes remained averted.

"And I like to walk …" She said leadingly.

Dain chuckled outright, shaking his head. She was adhering to his insistence, but letting him know that she wanted her introductions to come from him. And that with Dain there, she would be looking at no one else but him. "Minx." He laughed good-naturedly. "That's not the way this will work."

Calbrinia raised her eyebrows deliberately. "You're not my leader." She told him in a sweet tone. "Yet. Though …if you want that position, it might be available."

Wide grins greeted her words. It was just the right balance of respect and sauciness that Dwarves loved in their dams.

"I'm going to be working in one of the side courtyards." Calbrinia said pointedly, having risen early to make the arrangements. "Shield work for today I think." It was an invitation to join her, plain and simple. "Something basic and protective."

Shield work. Dain paused, considering the words. "Not anything with more thrust to it?" He tested her with caution.

Knowing grins and a few groans of despair from his warriors as they hoped their leader didn't overplay the moment.

Yet the dwarrowdam didn't seem deterred, nor embarrassed. "Not yet. Thus I need to work on my shields." Calbrinia told him breezily. "I think it might come in handy …on walks. Keep the thrusting from causing deep wounds." She made the naughty insinuation to the great delight of the gathered dwarrow. And Dain.

"Well then." He harrumphed, putting his hands behind his back and clasping them there. "Shield work sounds most proper."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"So." Elrond paused strategically. He let his eyes glance over at this child of his son as if casually. Though there was nothing casual within the sharpness of his mind. "How goes everything here for you?"

Kili shrugged without much thought as the duo walked down the hallway, occasionally smiling or nodding to any number of passing dwarrow. "Since you last saw me?"

"Indeed." Said the healer, and grandfather. "If you want privacy for this communication, I would not feel it untoward."

Kili rolled his eyes up at the taller elf walking beside him, then scoffed lightly. "You didn't teach that politeness to my father it seems." He shook his head, muttering under his breath. "Untoward?"

Elrond let nothing of his surprise show. When he'd last been within Erebor's walls Kuilaith had not been comfortable in Elladan's presence, much less calling him 'father'. He deliberately phrased the next bit in Sindarin. _"Mankoi naa lle sinome?"_

The young brunet frowned slightly, taking his time before shrugging.

The elf lord tried not to feel disappointed, and although he was well versed in keeping his expressions from giving away his thoughts it appeared the dark-haired prince could sense something.

Kili stepped to the side and stopped, looking up at the taller elf who happened to be related to him in a mind-boggling way. "Why are any of us here?" He shrugged. "We're in Erebor because it's my home. I wasn't born here but it is my home." He stressed the last word strongly.

Elrond nodded with some surprise, realizing that the youth had understood the words of his question after all. It was just that he did not have a clear answer. And although the lad answered in Common, he'd at least mentally translated the Sindarin correctly. Cold disappointment turned into a warm pleasure within him.

"We're here because you lot …" Kuilaith waved a hand at the elf, "decided to marry off two people ill-suited to one another." He grimaced. "Or were manipulated into it."

Elrond felt his eyebrows raise at the tinge of bitterness in the youngster's voice, as well for his astute guesswork. Galadriel had shared the youth's thoughts on who might be behind the details of his conception.

"We're here because we're on our way there." Kuilaith gestured toward the main hall. "Take your pick."

Gray eyes blinked, then Elrond executed a perfect bow of apology toward this son of his son. When his head came back up it was to find Kuilaith grinning at him as if he'd won some major point. Perhaps the lad had, he mused.

"What questions do you have for me then?" Elrond rephrased the question.

Dark eyes slid around the area, his mouth dipping into a frown as he saw they were far from alone. He glanced back up at the elf lord. "You said something about private?"

Elrond gestured for the lad to lead the way, following as Kuilaith headed down a smaller corridor and away from the main halls.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili had laid down last night, but that did not mean sleep had arrived. His eyes felt gritty and his teeth fuzzy with a sour taste in his mouth. He felt ready to snap the head off of anyone who greeted him as he headed off to the communal baths.

Walking in, he gave a grunt of satisfaction. Steam was rising from the pools today. He just hoped the waters weren't too hot. The communal baths were not high on the repair list and had been running either too hot or too cold since their arrival. When was the last time they'd worked proper?

The stray thought brought the young prince up cold as he snarled at some unfortunate who just happened to be walking by. The older warrior quickened his stance and averted his gaze, though he didn't act deferential, just polite. Fili sighed and grabbed his bath things, turning to leave.

The blond stalked all the way to the healing halls, his jaws clenched. "I want to bathe." He said harshly.

Nuluin did appear perturbed by the lack of any actual greeting. He'd been one of the witnesses to the goings on of the previous night, including Fili's reaction to the arrival of Lady Dis. He silently gestured for the young dwarrow to follow him further into the healing halls.

Fili stubbornly stood his ground, shaking his left hand where he was gripping a thick towel. "Bath."

Nuluin watched him patiently, saying nothing.

The blond prince growled and finally followed the elven healer with ill grace. His temper on simmer, but ready to boil over at any given moment.

Nuluin reached for the shirt ties, but Fili bared his teeth and undid them himself, whipping the garment up and over his head in a quick move. A surprised hiss escaped him.

The elf watched cautiously. "That hurt more than it should have." He said calmly.

Fili ground his teeth together and lied. "It didn't hurt at all." Referring to the movement of his arms over his head.

"I warned you about lifting heavy items or strenuous movements." Nuluin did not back down in the face of Fili's bad mood.

Thinking about the axe work he'd done last night, and all the wood he'd chopped, the prince grimaced and rolled his head in agitation.

The elven healer gently loosened the bandages around Fili's chest. He made a slight humming sound as he inspected the still healing wound left behind by an arrow. "Remarkable recovery."

"Bath?" Fili asked with some longing, really wanting to soak.

The healer's brow furrowed and he asked the prince to move his arms in multiple planes and levels, watching his patient's eyes and expression to tell him of pain. Because he knew Fili would not admit to any on his own. Finally he shook his head in the negative.

Blue eyes sparked with temper, but quickly banked back down. He took a deep breath, feeling the pull and soreness in his chest muscles with regret. "How long?"

"Three to four more weeks." Nuluin shrugged. "You heal very quickly. If you stop pulling on your wound, it will go even better though."

Fili snorted, his laughter on the sarcastic side. "I'll try."

"Shower?" The healer suggested, regretful that he couldn't give the young dwarrow the go-ahead for a good long soak in the baths. "Or …I don't know about Dwarves, but I've found that Men I have treated over the years find it pleasant to ask a young lady to assist them while recovering."

Interest lit Fili's blue eyes for a moment, then he gave an actual laugh and shook his head. "No, not unless we were further along and she was wearing my beads." He admitted, though some of his bad mood started to leech away with the mental image of Erelinde running a sponge over his chest. "Tempting though."

Nuluin nodded. "Don't want to be seen as wounded or weak?" He guessed.

"Not our way." Fili admitted ruefully. In dwarrow society strength was everything. Wounds were honorable and scars were badges of bravery, but appearing weakened? Not done.

"Then all I can offer is a private pan bath and a dressing change for your chest. Perhaps a tray of food and a change of clothing? Or would you prefer to go to the showers?"

Fili considered his options, letting his dream of a good long soak disappear with a sniff of regret. The shower didn't sound bad, but it was communal and he didn't really feel up to being good company today. "Care to put up with a surly dwarf for a bit longer?"

Nuluin nodded and went to get someone to fetch a breakfast tray and set up the pan bath.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Calbrinia slid onto the bench next to Sealyn, and across from the red-headed she-elf she'd noted earlier.

Brunere gestured at the tall female next to her. "This is Tauriel. Tauriel, this is our friend, Calbrinia."

Green eyes watched the new arrival with some degree of wariness, as if unsure of how she'd be received.

Calbrinia thought of Hinnin, the elf who'd accompanied Lord Dain on his journey to Ered Luin. He'd been friendly with the leader from the Iron Mountains, and even to her. Not at all what she'd grown up thinking elves were like. She eyed this Tauriel's long hair, noting the beads gracing her very dwarvish braid. Weighing her options, and the friendly manner of her friends with the elf, she came to a decision. "I am very pleased to meet you."

If the warmth in the new dwarrowdam's greeting surprised her, the elf did not show it. Instead she bowed her head and offered her own polite greeting. "I have heard much of you, all to the good."

Calbrinia smiled welcoming, although she was the new arrival to Erebor. The elf was the new arrival to their small group. "Alright. I send you lot off to meet a king, two princes, and five hundred fine dwarven warriors. I want to know the news!"

"The king is brilliant and brave, but appears to have no interest in courting." Sealyn shrugged with a teasing smile.

Brunere reached over and plucked up the end of Tauriel's nashatal braid. She waved it like bait at her friend across the table. "The princes, however, have their attention caught." Her smile grew wide. "Prince Kili has been gifted with three beads already."

"The Ironfoot?" Sealyn asked leadingly. Her friend had sent them all on to Erebor ahead of her specifically to try and garner Dain's attention.

Calbrinia leaned back, smiling with confidence. "Interested, I'd bet my boots."

Both dwarrowdams laughed happily while Tauriel cast her gaze over toward the leader they were discussing. "I think he looks in your direction."

A pleased expression crossed the battle-maid's face as she straightened her back, though she already hadn't been slouching. "I invited him to watch me practice my shield work today." She admitted.

"Bofur's taking me for a walking tour of the mines this afternoon." Brunere admitted a bit shyly, though appearing very happy at the coming date. "And Tresik has expressed an interest as well."

"Ah! Two catch your eye? Wonderful! May your heart choose wisely and well." Calbrinia offered the traditional words happily, then slapped the palm of her hand down lightly on the table, leaning toward Sealyn. "That leaves you to catch the other prince's attention!"

The inky-haired dam hunched her shoulder as she fought not to laugh even as she shook her head, her eyes sparkling. "Several." She admitted.

"Nori." Brunere teased, looking at the ceiling as she pursed her lips.

"Several choices." Sealyn protested lightly.

"Nori is the only one of them that when you come back from walking with him your lips are swollen." Tauriel said, unsure.

Sealyn's eyes rounded while Brunere and Calbrinia let their laughter peal forth in delighted amusement. "Lies!" The inky-haired dam sputtered, but her wink at the elf showed she wasn't serious in the accusation.

Teasing. The she-elf smiled slightly, starting to relax a bit. This Calbrinia and the arrival of the Lady Dis with her disapproving aura were not changing the tentative friendships she'd begun. She relaxed enough to dip her spoon in her porridge, although it was only barely warm now.

The newly arrived dam finally wiped her eyes and gave a happy sigh. "So? Another dwarrowdam? Who has Prince Fili's interest then?"

"You'll never guess." Brunere pressed her lips together invitingly.

Tauriel paused mid-bite, putting her spoon back down. She looked back and forth between the three dams. "I thought you all came from the same general area. Would she not know Erelinde then?"

Brunere put her head down, shaking it in mock despair while Sealyn nearly choked to keep from laughing too loudly.

Calbrinia's mouth formed an 'O' as she stared at the red-headed elf. "Oh dear." She said regretfully, wincing. "How bad is it?"

"Bad?" Tauriel couldn't seem to grasp the nuances of the other dam's concern. "Erelinde isn't bad."

"No, no." Sealyn waved a hand in front of her, dismissing the very idea. "It's not bad at all. In fact, think good. Think great."

Calbrinia stiffened with surprise as she peered at her friend as if afraid to hope. "She noticed him?"

Brunere gestured at Tauriel to answer. Unsure what it was she was supposed to say, the elf merely told the truth. "They walk to dinner together quite regularly." When Calbrinia made no response beyond staring at her, the she-elf felt she needed to continue. "Erelinde helped cool his temper last night quite effectively."

"Really?" Squeaked Sealyn, having not known of that.

Brunere shrugged, sighing. "She was looking to get him to kiss her. Yesterday. Before …" She waved at Calbrinia as if to mean the arrival of those which included the prince's mam.

"He doesn't have a chance." The battle-maid said with wide eyes which showed a mixture of delighted concern.

"You all seem to indicate that dwarrowdams can have just about any dwarf they choose." Tauriel said, her tone making the statement into a question they could choose to answer or not.

Sealyn shrugged. "Not entirely. But dwarrowdams have all the power in courting. There are few of us, compared to the males. It's a question of supply and demand."

Brunere nodded in agreement. "Unless a dwarrow is craft-blind and uninterested in marriage."

"Which Fili is not." Guessed Tauriel, her quick mind making the connections. "He wants to marry and have a family." She knew this from little comments from the blond, and from Kili. Pausing, she eyed her table companions. "I like Erelinde well enough and I thought you did as well."

"We adore her!" Brunere rushed to reassure their elven friend. "Just, this is the first time she's ever really paid attention to any potential suitor. But he's a prince, and one day will be king."

"Erebor, and Prince Fili, would be lucky to have her." Sealyn said loyally, any misgivings she had about her friend assuming a royal role kept to herself.

"I suppose …you're right. Of course you are. She's nearly a craft master, there's nothing she can't accomplish." Brunere said, hoping all would work out well.

Calbrinia gave a half-smile, thinking of her friend who'd sometimes been so lost in her craft she'd go days without rest or food.

"Speaking of families." Sealyn leaned in, putting her chin in her hands as she placed her elbows on the table, determined to change the subject.

The red-headed elf froze, fighting the urge to lick her lips out of nervousness. "In elvish society it is a private matter and not a public discussion."

"You mentioned that Prince Fili wants to wed and start a family." Brunere teased, tilting her head slightly.

"This is a dwarven hall and we are dwarrowdams, not elves." Sealyn continued in a teasing manner.

Tauriel refused to answer though, shaking her head. "We are only just now betrothed. Only a few days ago we were talking about courting gifts I would need to craft somehow."

Thrown off her mental track, Sealyn abruptly straightened. Brunere gasped, her hand going to her mouth for a moment. Surprised, the red-haired elf eyed them both. "What?"

"Third bead." Sealyn pointed, leaning in conspiratorially.

Tauriel's hand went to her braid, her fingers fondling the final bead hanging there. Such a small thing which held so much meaning. "What?" She repeated.

Brunere looked helpless as she shrugged. "Betrothal gift to Prince Kili can wait, since the wedding won't be soon."

"Why won't it?" Calbrinia asked, though no one answered.

"But the gift to the one who stands for you, that one is now technically late." Sealyn's gaze looked unfocused as her mind spun furiously. "You mentioned that brew you were thinking of making for Bifur?"

"It will take a while to set up and make." Tauriel admitted. "I've only just started collecting what I'll need."

"Brew?" Calbrinia felt lost within the conversation. "Ale?" She eyed the elf before her, wondering at how one of their race would know how to brew a proper ale.

"Not ale." Tauriel shook her head. "Just a camp brew the Silvan elves make. It's not the same as any fine liquors or wines. Basic really. Rustic."

"Bifur would have loved it. And you can still make it. But you have to gift him with something you make right away, now that you've gotten the third bead. It's tradition." Sealyn frowned heartily.

"I can just say I'm not familiar with the traditions and the gift will be late." The red-head said, hoping this would serve.

Calbrinia nodded, pointing at Tauriel in agreement. But Brunere pulled a sharp frown and shook her head. "No. You're wearing nashatal braids, and have been using proper hand signs and greetings for a while now. Serving with dwarrow on patrol assignments. You can't claim you are apart from our traditions just when you're fitting in so nicely."

"I am?" Tauriel said, a bit surprised by that announcement.

"I'm going to have to craft something soon, for my father. Even if he isn't here to gift it with until spring arrives." Calbrinia said in a gesture of solidarity. "I guess that leaves me time to hunt."

"Hunt?" Tauriel questioned.

Calbrinia shrugged a bit. "My skills are with my weapons."

"Me too." The red-head responded. "I can hunt for a gift? Meat?"

"No." Brunere said sadly. "She'll hunt so she can tan some leather, make something fine for her father. He'll be the one to stand for her braids when she puts them in."

"I have leather already. From when I made Kili's Durin's Day gift. If you have need." The she-elf offered to Calbrinia.

The chestnut-haired dwarrowdam started to refuse, more than capable of tanning her own. But Sealyn stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Perfect!"

Brunere nodded. "These gifts have to be hand crafted. You can't GIVE Calbrinia the leather, but she can fair trade for it."

"Why can't I just gift it to her?" Tauriel sighed, wondering at all the small details in these traditions.

Understanding now, Calbrinia nodded. "I can either gather the items myself, or trade for them with things I own or have crafted. You could gift anything to me at any time." She waved a hand in general. "But for a betrothal gift, it has to be done a certain way. I have to make or trade for it." Suddenly she shook her head. "But I have brought little with me that would serve as a good gift."

"What do you have?" Sealyn asked, her mind racing.

Tauriel sighed unhappily even as Calbrinia started talking about everything she'd brought along. There was quite a bit actually, mostly smaller items though. She frowned. "That's an odd collection of things to travel with."

The battle-maid laughed self-consciously. "I was hoping to catch the eye of a certain dwarrow. I wanted things with me I could use to catch his attention. Even brought along dried peppers, but it turns out Dain isn't fond of over-spiced foods."

"Peppers?" Tauriel looked up, her attention caught.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elrond didn't sigh, but waiting for the young mixed-blood prince to speak was getting a bit old. "Your understanding of Sindarin grows." He finally said.

Kili grimaced. "Speaking it is tongue-twisty." He blew off the compliment as of little consequence, though he didn't seem displeased.

"If it helps, my son spoke to me of some of what you might be trying to find a way to ask me."

Unsurprised, the brunet groaned rolling his head and ending up staring at the ceiling. "Of course he did." A quick frown. "Wait, which son?"

"Both." Admitted Elrond, though he made no mention of Arwen bringing up the subject first.

Kili leaned back in his chair, letting the seat balance on two legs instead of four as he gave a rather despondent sounding sigh. "If you already know, why are you waiting for me to ask?"

"It's your body, your problem, your pain." Elrond said, deliberately trying to sound unconcerned. "Your privacy."

Kuilaith snorted in derision. "Privacy? When a whole group of elves decide to ask your uncle and king about your sexual experience in the middle of a public hall?"

Elrond fought hard not to smile at the beleaguered tone of the young princeling. "They did what?"

Rueful laughter as the affronted male shook his head. "Asked if I was a virgin. Out loud. In front of everyone." He rolled his head to peer over at the elf lord who was his grandfather. "I am by the way."

If he was looking to shock Lord Elrond, it didn't work. "I know."

Kili frowned. "They told you that too?" He didn't sound happy about his lack of sexual experience being the topic of other's conversations.

"They didn't have to tell me." The tall elf admitted. "I knew, for if you'd awakened you would have already been married."

With a clatter of wood on stone, Kuilaith sat upright, his chair now resting properly on four legs. His dark eyes glared at Elrond. "You know about bodies of stone?"

"This is not the first time that I've dealt with Dwarves." Elrond admitted dryly. "Though I haven't been consulted on a healing case for a dwarrow in a very long time."

Kuilaith blinked several times, torn with being amused or resentful. "You could have explained that to your son. Sons. It would have saved me a great deal of embarrassment."

Lord Elrond slowly smiled. "An oversight."

The young male sighed, then nodded at his father's father. "When you look at me, do you see elf or dwarf?"

"I see Kuilaith."

This answer didn't suit Kili one bit and he actually growled low in his throat, then relaxed back into his chair.

"I see only you, as you were meant to be." Elrond expanded his answer slightly, though letting go of the elvish name for the moment.

"Huh." The brunet waved a hand in the air to indicate general acceptance of the answer, though he appeared less than thrilled. "So. Can you help me?"

Elrond didn't pretend not to know the crux of the question. "Awaken? I don't know. I need to speak with you far more thoroughly about what you're going through." He paused deliberately before continuing. "And examine you. If you thought the question in the hall was embarrassing, then I suggest you will have trouble with this."

Kili groaned, dropping his head back once again. Finally he nodded. "If you can fix me, it'll be worth it."

"You're not broken." Elrond told him dryly. "And I make no promises that the answers will suit your wishes."

"Elvish answers, so clear, so straightforward." Mocked the younger male.

Lord Elrond of Imladris smiled in remembrance, hearing the words of a certain Hobbit as he complained that one shouldn't ask elves questions, as the answer would be both 'yes' and 'no'. "I will endeavor to assist you."

Kili sat up and leaned forward, putting his forearms on his thighs as he pinned the elf with an intently dark gaze. "Elladan doesn't want me waking up, getting married."

It was a question, plain and simple. What side of the equation was Elrond on? Father or son?

"I will examine you and treat you to the best of my ability. The question of whether or not you should marry now is not for me to make."

"I'm of age." Kuilaith asserted.

"Perhaps also a discussion that needs to be held, with you having an equal voice, of course." Elrond placated the youth a bit.

The brunet made a face, but reluctantly nodded.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Who is that?"

Balin looked up at Dis' face, then followed her line of sight over to the lunch spread. He smiled, then let the expression fade as awkwardness set in immediately. "Erelinde Stormrune, daughter of Fergard."

Dis heard the hesitancy in Balin's voice, giving him a look of question. The white-bearded dwarf blushed, making the dam's eyebrows raise. She knew better than to think the older dwarrow was interested in courting, he was a widower long returned to a body of stone. "Dangle that bait in front of Kili's nose, see how long the elf-witch will last after that."

Balin's blush disappeared in a rush, leaving him pale and not meeting her eyes. Dis nodded. "Someone else holds her interest then? Thorin or Fili?" She asked pointedly, making the assumption from the advisor's face that it wasn't just anyone.

"Er." The white-haired counselor stumbled and stuttered and didn't answer. Nor did he deny. Which was an answer in itself.

"Fili then." Dis looked over again at one of the most beautiful dwarrowdams she'd ever seen. The sight didn't move her, instead she sniffed. "Stormrune? Not a bad name in itself."

"Nay, no stain upon the name." Balin answered weakly. "Perhaps you and I could go and inspect the Ozinafkhur?"

"Why? Are any females living there as yet?" Dis guessed the answer was not by the look on the older dwarrow's face. "In fact, how many dwarrowdams are in Erebor at the moment?"

"Seventy-eight." Came the ready answer.

Dis nodded thoughtfully, thinking on to the next question. "How many of those are of the Iron Hills?"

"Seventy-five." Balin admitted, not sure he was liking this conversation.

"Of those, how many are married?" She didn't doubt the older advisor had that information.

"Fifty-two." Came the soft response, nor did he make her ask the next obvious question. "Eleven are craft-wed battle maids, uninterested in marrying. The remaining twelve are such as I."

Dis pursed her lips while nodded, widowed then, not seeking husbands. Out of five hundred warriors brought on to face several armies, that was about right. "So. Three."

Balin nodded uneasily. Three dwarrowdams single, eligible, and marriage worthy.

"Erelinde is the loveliest." It was a guess, but a fair one, considering the white blonde beauty now chatting with Ori while smiling. The young dwarrow looked a bit awestruck at his good fortune to have her full attention. "Does Fili hold her interest, or his crown?"

Now it came to it. Balin swallowed hard. "Lass?"

"Don't tell me that just because my son is angry with me that I cannot ask questions about his well-being." Dis laid down the ground rules with the force of her will, turning to pin the white-bearded male with eyes mirroring that of her brother the king. It was obvious she had no intention of being denied.

Yet Balin wasn't a weak willed fool nor so easily bent. "If information on Fili you want, you'll need to be asking him."

Dis blinked, hearing the inherent stubbornness in her life-long friend. She looked away first. But her gaze fell right back onto the white-blonde dwarrowdam. "Erelinde then."

Balin shook his head. "Delicate edge there lass." It was a dwarrow term for don't interfere, whatever was being crafted was still in the malleable stages. "Interference would …upset the prince quite a bit."

"I have no interest in complicating things further." Dis denied. "I simply want to know of my children." It was as close to a plea as she was willing to give.

Balin sighed, torn between loyalties. Finally he shrugged. "She's a brilliant crafter, nearly craft-wedded from what I know. Apparently Fili is the first dwarrow she's allowed close. His crown does not seem to draw her."

Dis' eyebrows rose with speculation.

Balin couldn't help but continue. "Princess? I cannot stress to you enough how delicate this edge currently is. Fili would appreciate no assistance or even speculation, not on this."

It was a warning, and a fervent one. Dis nodded to show she understood, even as she eyed the young beauty. "Is she suitable?"

"The family name is a good one." Balin answered, hadn't he already said this?

The king's sister sighed, clarifying her question. "For a queen. Is she appropriate for a crown prince of Erebor?"

Balin shrugged off the question as not being for him. "That's for Fili to decide."

On this, Dis' eyes narrowed while she watched the pretty dwarrowdam, she wasn't sure she agreed. "My son hasn't met many females, he is not well versed in their ways. Or how to best judge what would make a suitable queen."

"You taught him well." Balin insisted, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, wanting to be anywhere but there. "Trust him."

Trust. Dis blinked back the moisture in her eyes as she pushed aside her pain as best she could. "Have you seen him today?"

Fili. Balin nodded reluctantly though he didn't tell her the prince had been down in the mines, helping to allocate already thin resources to the best possible use in the rebuilding of Erebor. He himself had dared to try and bring up Dis' name to the prince and had been met by one of the coldest stares he'd ever received, especially from that source.

"My son Kili then, can you speak on him?" The Princess appeared to be tired of Balin's lack of information. The white-haired advisor shrugged. He definitely didn't want to tell her that her youngest had been locked up tight with both Nuluin and Elrond since early morning. He had a feeling he knew what THAT meeting was all about. And it was a topic he was loathe to bring up in current company.

"He's tied up in meetings." The counselor said evasively. "I'm not sure when he'll be finished, but I can let him know you're wanting to see him."

"Only him."

Balin nodded, holding his breath for a moment, knowing the princess meant 'without' the she-elf.

"Her?" The one word dripped with derision.

"Travelled to Dale early, but is back already." Which is all that Balin knew really. "Lady Dis, please. There is nothing I can say or do that could reconcile you to Tauriel."

Dis turned away from him, her spine stiff.

The white-bearded dwarrow sounded consoling as he continued. "Kili loves her."

The princess did not respond.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Erelinde was smiling before she even registered that she could hear music. "Fili." She whispered his name, then nodded as she listened to his fiddle playing. His mood was still dark, but not full of that terrible tension of yesterday. "You're feeling better."

The blond drew the bow across the strings, pulling out a long note meant to convey his agreement. He watched as the crafter twisted some final strings, putting pins in place to hold the work together. "I like what you're making."

Erelinde nodded, her eyes tracing the delicate lines and shapes that had a subtle dwarven feel to them. "I am not spending my time wisely. I have several commissioned pieces to begin, but …my friend Calbrinia is in Erebor and I thought, anyway. This will be for her."

"Met her." Fili acknowledged. "Dain rushed her up to me only long enough to exchange names, then whisked her away again."

Erelinde laughed, turning to eye the crown prince happily. "Apparently she is interested in the Ironfoot, but he said he wouldn't consider stepping out with her until she'd met you and your uncle. That's what Brunere told me."

Fili's eyes widened with interest. "Oh? Well, considering how quickly there and gone he was with her in tow, I'm thinking he's regretting that restriction." He gave his crafter a slow smile as he drew out the last notes and lowered his bow. "She was showing off shield work today from what I gather."

Erelinde tidied up her work space as Fili filled her in on the day.

"There was quite the crowd." He winked at her, his blue eyes full of mirth. "I wasn't invited."

"I can introduce you." The white-blonde offered. She gave Fili a shy smile. "Calbrinia would be a fine choice for any dwarrow."

"Dain might make mincemeat of 'any' dwarrow so inclined from what I saw today." The prince smirked, then he sighed soberly as he changed the subject. "I made a hash out of yesterday."

"No." The beautiful dwarrowdam shook her head at him. She didn't know all that caused his anger, but she trusted him to know what he was about.

"If you would be so inclined, I'd love to escort you down to dinner." He peered over at her in a hopeful manner. "After, there are some crafting books you might find interesting."

Surprised, Erelinde finished her cleaning up and shook out her skirts for small bits of thread. Her sky-blue eyes found his deeper gaze. "Books?"

"We have a rather extensive library here."

"You found me some crafting books?" She asked, touched.

Fili's mouth twitched and finally he laughed, shaking his head. "Ori found them, but I'll gladly take credit."

"Ori is sweet. I had lunch with him today."

The crown prince gave her a look of surprise. "You did?"

"I was looking for you." She admitted, her gaze dropping a bit with the admission.

Fili's chest puffed out proudly as he ignored the sting of his still healing wound. He'd really aggravated it yesterday, swinging that axe around so heedlessly.

Erelinde watched him with admiring eyes, wondering at her own foolishness. She was a crafter, pure and undiluted. Yet here she was, her heartrate picking up speed every time she came near a certain dwarrow.

"What are you thinking?" He asked her softly as he put away his fiddle, his touch sure yet absent. A task he'd done nearly all his life.

Erelinde shook her head, not wanting to tell him her real thoughts. "Who taught you to play?"

Fili's easy smile vanished and he shrugged. "Uncle and …."

"Your mother." She guessed.

"I don't have …"

"Don't." Erelinde stepped closer, so near to him that he could feel her body heat. She raised her hand to the side of his face, cupping his cheek and running her thumb against his mustache beads. "You can cut her off, but don't pretend she doesn't exist. Not to me."

"She …" He stalled, making a face as he shook his head.

"You don't have to share." Erelinde told him gently. "I know you well enough to know you wouldn't have acted so without good cause."

His hand went up on the outside of hers, holding her touch to his face. Slowly he opened his eyes, finding her very close. "I'm going to kiss you." He said without thought, then found he liked that thought. "Unless you move back, I'm going to kiss you. Right now."

Compelling sapphire blue eyes met unsure sky-blue ones. But her feet didn't move.

"Erelinde? Did you hear me?" Fili leaned in closer so that their foreheads were nearly touching. Her hand on his cheek, his on her hand. "If you don't step away, I will end up kissing you."

The white-blonde dwarrowdam watched him.

"I'm serious and …" He stopped as her thumb moved, covering his lips in a gesture to stem his words.

"You're taking too long."

He blinked, she had a moment to reconsider her rash words and then his mouth covered her lips and she stopped thinking altogether.

Sweetly awkward the two shared their first kisses as his free arm wrapped around her slender waist, pulling her even closer to him. Erelinde's head moved into a side tilt as he pressed his suit, his lips tasting hers.

Her mind reeling, it took the dwarrowdam a moment to realize that Fili's tongue wasn't only tracing her lips, it was teasing her. Asking her. Before coming to a decision, her own lips parted without her volition, letting him inside.

She was surprised at how hot she felt, how much it tingled and how …a moan escaped her, making her blush. Slowly she realized that Fili was stroking the side of her face, now cupping her cheek with his fingers spearing into the thick coils of her braids.

Her hand was still on his cheek. Boldly, surprised at her own gall, she moved her hand to behind his head, pulling him in tighter.

This time the groan came from him.

Out of breath, she pulled back from him. He followed, capturing her lips again. "Don't go." He whispered huskily.

Reluctantly, she smiled against his mouth. "I need to breathe."

"No you don't." He muttered and nibbled on her bottom lip, tugging playfully.

She grinned, a raspy laugh teasing his senses. Suddenly she jerked back, breaking his hold.

"Erelinde?" Fili asked, not liking how wide her eyes were all at once. Had he done something wrong?

"No, no, no …" Erelinde spun, looking around the room, coming back to stare at him. "I thought we agreed no kissing in my craft room!"

He stared at her, unsure. The sweet dwarrowdam had never looked lovelier to his eyes. Her braids were mussed just slightly, a few curls escaping to frame her face and her lips were plumper and reddened from his kisses. Her blush was becoming and her breathing had picked up, doing interesting things to her bosom. Fili's fingers curled to keep from reaching for her. "Sweetheart?"

"No! Stop that!" Erelinde suddenly laughed and shook her head, though she looked flustered rather than happy. "How am I supposed to concentrate on my work now? How can I focus when all I'll be able to think about is you? Kissing!"

He stared at her then suddenly dissolved into laughter of his own.

She glared at him with all the ferocity of a grumpy kitten. It only made him laugh harder. She swatted his shoulder lightly. Then sighed. "You've ruined this room."

"I'll find you another." Fili promised, his gaze bright and warm upon her. Erelinde shook her head and he nodded in response. "I'm the crown prince here. I can find you a new crafting room."

"And how are you going to explain to Dori why I need to switch rooms?" She looked like she might faint of embarrassment.

Fili shrugged while reaching out to pull her arm through his. "Dinner first. Or …" He tickled her lightly, making her jump and stare at him in wonder. "Or since we've already ruined this room for you, we can ruin it some more."

Erelinde squeaked at the outrageous suggestion, shaking her head while blushing hotter. "Dinner." She decided.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Where are they?"

Thorin shrugged, then nodded over at a side entrance. "There's Fili."

Lady Dis turned and nodded, her anxious nerves settling as she laid her eyes on her first born for the first time since his explosion of the night before. He looked fine. Better than fine. He was grinning and doting on the beauty he was escorting to ….another table? "He doesn't eat with you?"

Thorin sighed, shoving in another mouthful to keep from answer. Fili did indeed usually sit with him at the main table. He grunted as he saw his crown prince settle down next to Fergard Stormrune. "The dwarrowdam's father." He said after swallowing his food.

Dis nodded, still watching for her youngest. Thorin could tell when the lad entered as his sister stiffened. He sighed. It was too much to hope for that the puppy would arrive without his new betrothed. The king looked up to confirm the duo approaching the main table. He stopped eating when Tauriel and Kili moved toward the already occupied side, right next to Bifur.

The royal siblings listened in with contrasting reactions as Tauriel made a formal greeting, honoring the dwarrow who stood for her. She handed him something, saying a few words and bowing.

"What is she doing?" Hissed Dis, though she could hear and see everything. "The betrothal gift to him should have been done before the giving of the third bead!"

Thorin sighed, moving his hand to cover that of his younger sister's. "Be at peace." He didn't try to explain that everyone realized the elf was late with the gift, but that she was new to their traditions and ways. The fact that she was trying so hard was impressing many of the dwarrow here in Erebor. Himself included. "What is it?" He raised his voice a bit.

Bifur shrugged, opening a small pouch and sniffing. He said something and handed it to Bofur, who also sniffed. "Some sort of spicy sauce." The hatted dwarf announced.

They all listened as Tauriel explained it was something her mother used to make to help the bland tastes of preserved foods in the winter. Everyone at the head table watched eagerly as Bifur sprinkled it over his food. And not just those at the king's table were watching. Dwarves had sauces to do the same, but the making of one especially for a dwarrow was considered an appropriately personal gift. Still, there was intense curiosity, how would it compare?

Dain glanced over at Hinnin, who nodded at him.

Bifur took a bite, his face lighting up for a moment. He grinned, then suddenly his face sent slack and he made a grab for his mug of ale, chugging it down as everyone exploded with good-natured laughter.

Thorin watched as first Bofur then Oin had to give it a try. He gestured for the pouch to head down his way as everyone congratulated Tauriel on her third bead, and the gift she'd brought.

Only Dis wasn't smiling or joining in.


	48. In which suspicion grows

Dwalin's face remained passive as Glorfindel felt the dwarven warrior watching him carefully. The elegantly robed elf looked the epitome of casual ease in spite of the way he was dressed even while bringing the food to his mouth. Slowly he chewed, letting the full flavor of everything saturate his senses. He swallowed, appearing unmindful of the scrutiny he was currently the subject of.

"Well?" Bofur couldn't help himself as he leaned forward eagerly, even as he took a long draught from his own mug of ale. "My mouth is still burning." His voice did hold a rough note of hoarseness.

Glorfindel shrugged, no hint of discomfort on his unlined features as he appeared to savor his food. "I've had dragon scorch marks that burned less." He admitted with a sly wink, his normal tone of voice considerably gruffer at the moment.

Dwalin smirked and pushed a full mug of ale closer toward the elven warrior of old. Lazily the elf reached for the drink as if in no hurry, or pain, at all. The bald dwarf himself picked up his own mug as well, taking just as long as the golden haired hero across from him. It was a point of pride not to drop open his mouth and pant like a dog all while whimpering. He gave a small cough, but no other indication he'd found the new sauce to be anything other than mild.

Thorin gave a full throated chuckle, but waved his hand negatively when Glorfindel offered him the pouch with the fiery sauce. "I've tried it once already, let everyone else have a go."

Down at one end of the table there were good-humored jibes being thrown back and forth between Kili, Bifur, Oin, and Tauriel all while Bombur watched and continued to eat his food completely unaffected. Ori wasn't speaking or eating, still making wild faces and drinking ale as fast has a helpful Dori could pour it.

Dis pressed her lips together, trying not to appear as if watching every move her son made. And how close he seemed to be next to Tauriel and the other elves. Why hadn't he come to sit next to her instead of choosing to stick close to the side of the red-headed elf? Her mind raced, upset at Kili's display.

Dis turned her head and looked deliberately down the length at the other end of the table where Dain was listening to some story or other from one of the wizards, the Grey one. The leader from the Iron Hills had a dwarrowdam on one side of him, and that elf they'd travelled with on the other. She fought to keep her disapproval from showing.

Calbrinia. Dis's attention focused upon the pretty battle-maid as she laughed at something spoken, her hand on Dain's sleeve in a light touch that still screamed of something proprietary.

Why or why did the Ironfoot have to catch her eye? That one would have been an excellent candidate for a queen to Fili's king.

"She has made her choice." Balin interrupted her thoughts, seated across from her and seeing where her eyes were lingering. "Dain doesn't seem upset by the thought either."

"There could be more advantageous choices." Dis said quietly, picking at her food with a small sniff.

"As Nehili was such a highly blooded dwarrow?" Apparently Thorin was paying attention after all. He turned his bright-eyed gaze on his younger sibling in a telling look.

Dis bared her teeth for a second in mock anger, then suddenly laughed. It was a small laugh, but entirely genuine. "You have made your point." She admitted, remembering how the dwarrow she'd loved hadn't been considered the finest choice available to her. "The heart chooses, not the head. One is life, the other is stone." She quoted one of the past Durins, sheepishly she realized she didn't recall exactly which one. The third most likely.

"Ah, Durin IV, I approve!" Balin smiled cheerfully.

Dis shook her head sadly. "I thought it was the third." She admitted with a small shrug of her shoulders.

"It was." Thorin nodded. "He had that whole treatise on our creation."

"Definitely the fourth." Balin shook his head, smiling as he took his bite of food. Unadulterated by any elven pepper sauce, though he had tasted it.

Glorfindel turned and looked at the king and his advisor, not ignoring the princess outright but not speaking to her directly. "Is there a Khuzdul word for 'coward'?"

Dis' mood darkened once again as she put down her eating utensil with a barely repressed sigh. Thorin stared at the golden-haired elf for a moment. "Why?"

"Because Dori won't try the hot sauce." Dwalin growled.

"And Dwalin won't tell me the word." Glorfindel smiled.

"Neither will I. What is the elvish word?" The king asked pointedly.

"Not a secret. It's nandor. But it would have more effect coming in Khuzdul." The elvish warrior grinned.

Thorin leaned forward, looking down to where Dori was scolding Ori for eating even MORE of the sauce when he'd been baited into it. While the poor younger dwarrow was sweating profusely and hunched over his food. Kili, of course, was laughing so hard he was in danger of falling off the bench. Tauriel's hand on his forearm helped his balance apparently.

The king cleared his throat, getting almost everyone's attention. But it was Dori that mattered. Thorin raised his voice. "I tried it."

Dori rolled his eyes in disgusted amusement. "Obvious dwarfling taunt."

"Are you afraid to go where your leader goes? Face a dragon, but afraid of a bit of vinegar?" Dwalin's words appeared to slice poor Dori down to the marrow of his bones. The redoubtable master weaver drew up to his full height, gesturing toward the pouch with the sauce.

"Well played!" Glorfindel smiled lazily. "But would the world really end if I knew a single word of Khuzdul?"

"Apparently not." Balin frowned, shaking his head as he made a sorrowful face. "Since you already know a word."

The elf chuckled, knowing he was being played. "Oh?"

"Khuzdul." Dwalin spat out the word with some pleasure. "That's the only word you need to know."

Glorfindel gave a great big theatrical sigh, pulling a laugh from all the surrounding dwarrow. Except for Dwalin, who grunted and just went back to eating his dinner, though his manner was relaxed. The elf knew it that was a form of approval from that particular dwarven warrior.

The golden haired elf looked around the table with a hint of a smile, liking what he saw. Kuilaith and Tauriel. Despite what anyone thought that couple just felt right. As he watched the young male threw back his head, laughing uproariously while Tauriel smiled at his side.

Elladan and Elrohir entered the large hall, wending their way straight to the king's table. The golden-haired elf suppressed a sigh as he sensed the princess stiffening unbearably tight. He hoped this night wouldn't devolve into anything unseemly.

The elvish twins greeted King Thorin, who dipped his head in acknowledgement. Neither said a word to Dis, who spoke nothing to either of them in turn.

The first victim appeared to be Kuilaith's laughter. His dark expressive eyes moved sadly between his non-speaking parents who were studiously ignoring each other.

"I can eat no more." Dis stood, proud but taut with brittleness. "I will retire."

No one urged her to stay, though Thorin started to stand as well.

"I'll escort you back to your room, mam." Kili sent an apologetic look to the red-head at his side even as he rose.

Thorin grunted in approval, settling back down in his seat. He seemed relieved as the young prince came over and offered his mother an arm and a bright smile.

Glorfindel slid his eyes over toward Elladan, but that elf was wearing a mask of indifference which he knew to be a lie. What had he expected? At least they weren't shouting at one another. He … paused. His thoughts interrupted. By? A feeling. A small one.

The golden haired warrior of old casually looked around the room. The twins were finding seats. Dori was drinking copious amounts of ale and fanning his tongue with his hand. Elrohir was allowing Ori to pour some sauce on his meat while Elladan was watching his son leave the hall.

Something.

Glorfindel took a breath in and held it. Not all elves could mind-speak, though it wasn't an uncommon ability. And the level of expertise varied widely from elf to elf. The best he'd ever met was, of course, Lady Galadriel. He smiled and 'listened' to the feeling within him, allowing it to grow.

He himself was no slouch at mind-speaking, but even so he could not send nor receive without being in line-of-sight. Thus he couldn't send a message back to the Lady of Light that he'd received her call as it were. Then again, he had a suspicion that she knew already.

Standing, he excused himself with a teasing smile and headed out. Galadriel hadn't told him anything specific. Just a sense that he was needed and urgency was not an issue. So he guessed he'd start by heading to the rooms she shared with Lord Celeborn.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman barely registered when Glorfindel had left the long main table, his attention had been on the blood brat and his mother. Delicately he picked at his food, as if trying to find the only morsels on the plate suitable for his lofty palate.

When quick, dismaying grubby fingers in frayed knitted half-gloves, took the boiled potato off of his plate the White Wizard called it quits on eating. He sent a sharp glare at Radagast as the unalarmed fellow popped the stolen tuber into one of his many pockets, all the while muttering about some animal needing to eat more.

Gandalf chuckled, drawing the internal ire of Saruman, though he said nothing. "Do rabbits eat cooked potatoes?"

This unfortunately set the Brown Wizard into lecture mode, listing all the things rabbits enjoyed eating.

Saruman tuned out the list somewhere around redtop grasses and vetch. Instead he let his mind wander over the group at the king's table laid out like chess pieces in a game they didn't even know they were playing.

Spotting the King was easy, being at the center. It amused Saruman to continue in the veins of an actual game of chess, a much more elegant game than that mess the young Prince Fili had tried to interest him in. Something about clouded minds if he recalled.

So. Thorin as king and Dis as his pseudo queen? Against Galdriel and Celeborn as their opposites. The matched pair of knights would be a suitable designation for the elvish twins. Perhaps with Glorfindel and Elrond being the archers able to move unrestricted along diagonal lines. As for castles, well he'd use places. Lothlorien and Imladris were the most obvious choices.

As for the Dwarves, that required more thought on individual dwarrows than the wizard cared to dwell on. The white-bearded advisor of Thorin's, well that could be one of the archers. Perhaps the red-bearded merchant one, Gloin, yes that was his name, could play the other. As for the knights, perhaps the bald one and …

"Are you going to eat your spinach?"

Saruman blinked and turned slowly to stare starkly at Radagast who drew back, his expression going from hopeful to hurt. "It was just a question."

The white wizard fought hard to keep his face neutral and immobile, not to show his high disdain.

"I do believe there might be some turnip stems in the kitchens." Gandalf interceded in a helpful manner. "Did you not say that spinach should not be a staple food after all?"

Radagast brightened considerably at the thought, nodding with enthusiasm as he expounded on the diets of regular bunnies compared with Rhosgobel rabbits. It seemed his darlings were of hardier stock and had no problems whatsoever with eating copious amounts of spinach.

Saruman sighed, his earlier amusing thoughts sifting away. Chess was not a good call anyway. Pawns. Everyone here were simply pawns. His eyes settled on Elladan for the moment, thinking of the elf's son. Prince Kili was most definitely a pawn, and pawns were meant to be sacrificed for the good of all.

His mood restored, the wizard pushed his plate toward Radagast and picked up his wine glass instead.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I haven't had a chance to greet you properly."

It was a jab and Kili knew it. Wincing he nodded. "Been a lot going on."

Dis heard the hesitancy in her child's voice and mourned at the sound. "My fault. It's all my fault."

Kili immediately wrapped his strong arm around her in a sideways hug as they approached her rooms. Yet he didn't deny her words, which only pulled her mood deeper.

Dis watched as Kili opened her door for her, escorting her inside. To her relief, he followed in behind her and shut the door. She scrutinized his appearance, weighing it against the last time she'd seen him. "You're filling out."

This made the young prince sigh and shake his head as if irritated.

"It's a compliment." Dis chided him lightly.

"It's a side effect of being part elvish." Came the rather dry response. Kili grimaced and rubbed his chin in a nervous manner. "Apparently I'm not at full growth yet."

"And you believe them?" Dis' eyes widened as she watched her son.

The brunet tugged at his pant legs absently. "I believe my wardrobe. I'm taller already."

"You haven't grown taller since you were in your thirties!" The dwarrowdam protested sharply.

"I have since they sang the other half of me awake." Came the somewhat chagrined response. "Look, mam, I …"

"I couldn't tell you." Dis cut him off, her eyes bright with emotion and even some regret. "I couldn't let anyone look down on you for the chance of parentage."

"Or did you just not want me to seek him out?"

A hissing sound escaped her as Dis drew up to her full height, her temper rising to the surface. "You know better than that."

"Do I?"

Dis marveled. Fili had always been the one to talk back, to question. Kili was her easygoing child who while willful was also more compliant.

"There's a lot it turns out that I didn't know."

Closing her eyes on the hurt she could hear plainly in his voice, Dis nodded. "It was hard on you."

"Mam?" Kili approached her, catching her hands in his. "It was hard on you too. Don't think we didn't notice how the elders got mad when you wouldn't tell them who my father was. How they cut you down in small ways all those years."

We. His brother. The mention of Fili was like a knife wound to her heart. "How is he?"

Kili didn't pretend to misunderstand, his hands squeezing her in a reassuring manner. "Angry."

Dis snorted, as if she hadn't noticed that much already. "Why aren't you with him?"

A flash of a grin, then a half shrug. "Erelinde is with him." He appeared relaxed at the mention of the beautiful dwarrowdam, which told his mother a lot. Such as that Kili did not disapprove.

"And you're with that red-head."

He dropped her hands abruptly, his dark eyes narrowing with warning. "Tauriel."

She heard him. She heard his voice, his tone, the inflection. She saw his face and could read his body language. In her head she heard every warning that the other dwarrow had thrown at her not to interfere. That Kili was in love.

Knowing to tread cautiously, Dis nodded. "Tell me about her."

To her sorrow, her son seemed hesitant to trust her. Dis forced a smile onto her face. "No, I don't like the idea of her. But how are you to win me to her side if you won't share?"

Kili smiled at her. That smile bringing a genuine one to her own lips. How often had she marveled over the years that a time of such unhappiness in her life had brought her such a miracle?

"I still have that token you gave me, before the quest."

That young voice, full of life and love, it made Dis' heart literally ache. The thought of losing either of her children on the quest to Erebor had been gut-wrenching. The slow loss of them to females had been something she'd thought she would welcome in a bitter-sweet way. Yet somehow she'd thought she'd be more involved in the choosing of their mates. At least she'd always thought they'd come to her for advice and support.

"Tell me about your Tauriel." Dis invited, gesturing toward one of the seats by the hearth fire.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Glorfindel paused outside the door to the rooms set aside for Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Before he could raise his hand to tap on the door, it opened.

The two elf warriors looked at each other. Celeborn seemed unsurprised. "You come of your own accord?" His tone seemed to indicate the elf knew this wasn't the case.

Glorfindel shook his head with subtlety, a whisper of a movement.

Celeborn opened the door wider, his face blanked of expression. "Please join us."

Cautiously, the golden-haired elf entered. His eyes moved immediately to the Lady of Light. Not because she was beautiful, though that was true enough, but power lay upon her like a fresh blanket of snow. You never knew how deep it would go until you stepped forward, trusting it to hold your weight. "Is this a blizzard?" He asked, flashing a picture of his thoughts toward Celeborn.

The other male sighed, not rising to the amusement of the image.

Glorfindel's amusement faded. He turned his deceptively lazy-eyed gaze back to Galadriel. "Lady?"

Distressingly, the she-elf said nothing, either aloud nor into his mind.

"Wine?" Celeborn offered.

"How drunk do I need to be for this conversation?" The golden-haired warrior asked with a hint of true unease.

"Stinking."

This sharp response came from the glowing female, surprising Glorfindel more than her summons had. He eyed her carefully, though nodded at Celeborn. "Wine would be nice."

"Saruman told me face to face that he would never use his Voice on an ally. That I knew him better than to believe otherwise."

There was a chill in her voice that Glorfindel did not care for, a harsh edge that put his senses on full battle alertness. His hand had moved involuntarily to the hilt of his weapon. The fingers of his hand caressed the pommel, as if surprised to find it still sheathed.

Celeborn approached with the wine glass. Glorfindel shook his head unhappily, but reached out deliberately with his sword hand to take the offering in order to shake off the eerie sense of a battle about to begin.

"I heard the White Wizard use his Voice, directing it toward Crown Prince Fili." The elven leader from Lothlorien said in a carefully modulated tone announcing a mere fact and nothing more. No judgement, no determination. Simply what he'd observed. "He urged him to be calm."

Glorfindel's eyebrows rose as he pondered the information. "This was when?"

"After he denounced his mother." Celeborn said simply.

The warrior nodded, taking a sip of his wine, finding it a rather lackluster red. Or perhaps it was simply the darkness of his thoughts. "A goodly time for wishing calmness on a situation."

Galadriel's head turned sharply, catching both males by surprise. Her starlit gaze pinned them in place, not just with the force of her personality, but the weight of gathered power.

Celeborn did not react. Glordfindel thought he'd done well to remain standing, only his wine swaying slightly in his glass giving any indication of his being affected.

"It was a lie."

The Lady's husband nodded slowly. "Or perhaps it was because the Voice did not deter the lad's anger and resentment. Saruman did not subvert the prince's actions, thoughts, or even his words. It wasn't an attempt to control Prince Fili."

"Perhaps." Glorfindel raised his wine glass somewhat, his mind spinning with possibilities. "Or he does not consider the dwarves as allies. He is not their biggest proponent."

Celeborn shook his head. "He was in agreement with Thorin being added to the White Council."

"Was he?" The voice dripped with a cold so deep that both men had to fight the urge not to take steps back from her.

Glorfindel shook himself mentally, narrowing his eyes upon the Lady before him. "You no longer trust the White?"

Galadriel held his gaze with her own, and shockingly, it was she who turned away first. The ancient warrior from Gondolin felt slack jawed for a moment, until he realized that seeing her unsure was leaving him feeling empty and discordant.

"I am too close." She said, her eyes moving toward a wall, as if seeing through it. Glorfindel would not have been surprised to find out that she could, though he thought not.

Celeborn stepped toward his wife, his hand moving to touch her shoulder in comfort or support. "Your heart has no barriers to this son of our daughter's child."

"I jump at shadows that only I perceive?" Galadriel asked with a worrisome air.

Glorfindel was suddenly happy to have wine in his hands. Lackluster or not, it was still needed. He drained the glass quickly and set it aside. "There is more to this than one possible lie."

"I have seen." Galadriel drew out the words in a meaningful way, denoting her deep disturbance. "Both Elladan and the Lady Dis were maneuvered. Dosed with things to make them more pliable. Set in motion a certain birth."

The words echoed within Glorfindel's head as he struggled to digest them in any meaningful way. "Elrond?" His tone suggested he didn't believe that.

"Swears not." Celeborn answered. "As does the White Wizard."

"You don't believe it could have been the Lady's father or grandfather?" The elven warrior felt like he was clutching at straws.

"I've seen." Again with the ominous tone. "And much is hidden as it would not be if either of them had been the author of this morass."

Glorfindel nodded, trusting the Lady to know the limits of her own powers. "Only someone with great knowledge could hide such from you."

"Elrond. Saruman." Galadriel turned, staring at the two males. "Sauron."

The thought of the Deceiver behind the events of nearly eight decades ago was enough to unnerve even the heartiest of souls. Glorfindel felt the need to sit and forced himself to remain upright and balanced.

"Could either have been deceived into such actions by Sauron?" Celeborn asked, then answering his own question. "Yes. Especially as all believed the Dark One to be vanquished still at that time."

"Why not admit it now? Why not decry Sauron and his manipulations?" Galadriel shook her head, looking away again. "Pride alone does not condone keeping such a mistake hidden."

Glorfindel nodded. If he'd been so deceived he would be angry beyond measure, and not wanting all of Arda to know. Yet. Yet it would have been necessary to confess such a thing to all others in order to help in bringing Sauron down.

"Elrond offered to open himself up to me." Galadriel said in a near purr. "Saruman did not."

"He is a wizard, head of his order. Would you willingly open yourself up to another? Make yourself vulnerable?" Celeborn tried to sound conciliatory.

"Do you trust the White, still?" Galadriel put the question to him.

Lord Celeborn took his time in responding, weighing the query cautiously. "No." He said simply, then added a caveat. "Nor do I completely mistrust him. The use of his Voice on the Crown Prince was in poor judgement, but not outright manipulative or harmful."

Glorfindel nodded in agreement, though feeling as if on shaky ground. "If Sauron's reach was that long even a mere eight decades ago, what else do we not know about?"

"If Sauron was responsible." Celeborn added, clearly unsure the events had been orchestrated from the outside.

"I no longer trust him fully." Galadriel said weightily.

This drew immediate frowns from both males. Between Galadriel and the Wizard in White, the two elven warriors knew which one they themselves trusted implicitly.

However.

 _"She is not infallible. She loves too deeply in this matter."_ Celeborn slipped the words into the other's mind.

 _"But that doesn't make her wrong necessarily."_ Glorfindel replied in the same manenr, somehow his unhappiness tinging even his mental voice.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Mam …." The word was drawn on in a warning tone even as Kili groaned at the end of the utterance. "Please."

"All I'm trying to explain is that neither you nor your brother have a lot of experience meeting females. Why you've spent more time among human trading caravans than with your own kind." Dis exaggerated, though not very much.

Kili did not fall into a sulk nor did he lose his temper, both eventualities she'd been prepared for. However this young dwarrow took a solid breath and straightened his shoulders. "I have to fight this fight with others, but not you. I am no child and my decisions are my own."

A sense of unease made Dis nearly shiver as she watched her son acting like an adult. No. She sighed. He was an adult. A sad smile graced her lips as she watched him with a mother's love. "I'm so proud of you and Fili."

Kili let the shadows behind his eyes slide away and he nodded, relieved to move on to another topic. He spread his arms, taking in the whole of the kingdom. "Erebor."

"King Thorin, with his two heirs." Dis nodded firmly, as if by this statement all was righted within the world. That is until she saw her son's smile slip and then he shook his head.

"I'm no longer an heir, mam." He said softly, then shushed her as she made to interrupt him. "Not with Elven blood, it just can't happen."

"Did Thorin …."

"Uncle Thorin would have chewed off his own leg to keep me as his second heir." Kili assured her, making a face as if to indicate he didn't understand anyone who would trust him with such. A grin escaped him and he shrugged. "I'm Fili's right hand and shield. And if all goes as it should, even if I were full dwarrow, I still would not be king."

Dis' lips felt dry and she licked them, feeling unsteady as she closed her eyes in despair. "This is exactly what I wished to avoid."

"Mam. It's alright." Kili moved from his seat to kneel next to her, frowning as he realized how cold her hands were. "Let me stoke the fire for you."

"The cold is not from the outside." She murmured, clutching his hands tighter to keep him from moving away.

Kili laid his head against her shoulder, like he'd done so often as a dwarfling trying to get his way. "I'm part elf. Is it so wrong that I look to marry an elf?"

Dis moaned despondently. "You haven't met enough dwarrowdams."

"I'll meet more as they emigrate here to Erebor." He smiled, though she could not see his face in this position.

"Cheeky." She reached around with her arm, finding his braids in an automatic move. It was only when her fingers found unfamiliar beads in his hair that she dropped her hand. "Court another maid or two."

Kili's smile disappeared. "Not even for you, mam."

"I'm not saying give up this ….lass." Her voice hesitated over calling out the elf's name. "Just, expand your horizons. Give court to a proper dwarrowdam, see what you think."

"How would that be fair to the other dwarrowdam? I'm already in love."

"Awake?"

Kili let go of his mother as if her clothing had just caught fire, his face going beet red as he shook his head at her and headed over to pour himself a glass of water.

"If you're not awake yet …." Her words trailed off leadingly.

"I am …" Kili's mouth tightened as he considered all he could possibly say. "I am NOT talking about this with you."

Dis watched him sorrowfully. "Just meet a few more dams."

"Of course." He said flippantly.

She ground her teeth together. "Don't dismiss them, or me, not like this."

"You dismiss me." The young brunet asserted almost stridently, his jaw nearly clenched tight. "You dismiss my feelings as if I were a child reaching for a treat."

"Aren't you?" The dwarrowdam snapped back at him.

Kili spun, glaring at her. "I love you. I even forgive you for keeping me from my father, who isn't so bad now that I've met him." Those words were worse than any battle wound to Dis. "You raised me, held me, taught me …now I'm asking you to trust me. I would give you all I had, but one thing I will not trade away is my love for Tauriel."

Hearing the bone deep certainty in her son's voice, Dis could only mourn and blink back her tears.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Calbrinia placed both hands flat on the table and took a deep, steadying breath. Both Hinnin and Dain glanced at her, noticing the change in her immediately. The dwarrowdam smiled gamely at the duo. "I'm about to do one of the bravest things I've ever done."

Confused the males watched her stand and walk away with a predator-like grace. Dain looked at some of his lieutenants, who shook their heads. He glanced down the table of Balin, who'd turned to watch as the dwarrowdam had risen. The white-bearded dwarven counselor shrugged. Hinnin scratched his ear absently. "Is this something secret?" He asked in reference to the dwarrow propensity toward having a hidden society.

Dain scowled, not wanting to state he didn't know anything either. He straightened as he watched Calbrinia returning, and she wasn't alone. At her side came Prince Fili and frankly one of the most stunningly beautiful dams Dain had ever seen. A few of his lieutenants started nodding in understanding, giving their leader a warning look which he could not read. What was wrong?

Calbrinia smiled too brightly as she arrived. "Lord Dain Ironfoot, may I make known to you a childhood friend of mine, Erelinde of the Stormrunes? You already know Prince Fili, I am sure."

Perplexed, Dain bobbed his head at the bit of fluff with the sweet face. No warrior here. "Craft?"

A becoming flush lightly tinted Erelinde's face as she bowed her head in acknowledgement. "I have yet to sit for my mastery."

Dain's thick eyebrows shot up. Mastery? She was young for such, it ratcheted up his estimation of the pretty lass.

"Dori claims she is ready, we just need more weaving craftmasters available for testing." Fili said proudly.

Erelinde shook her head. "I have all winter to prepare my collection." She said in reference to what the craftmasters would judge her on.

"A welcome addition to Erebor." Balin interjected, beaming happily.

Dain nodded, wondering what all the fuss was about. Stormrune. Not a family connected to the Iron Hills, it was right and proper they return to Erebor. "You're happy here?" He asked blindly.

Erelinde nodded graciously, which turned up the smile on Fili's face. Dain wasn't a fool, he knew the puppy was interested and on the surface it seemed a decent enough match. Especially if she was as talented a crafter as claimed. He glanced at Calbrinia, who was watching him intently. He gave her a look that demanded an explanation, which only made her smile all the wider.

Bofur called out for Fili to join them at the other end of the table and Dain waved the young couple off. He turned and glared at Calbrinia. "Well?"

"Do you not find her pretty?"

"I'm not blind." Huffed the full-bearded dwarrow, still at a loss.

"Nearly a craft master and beautiful. Young. Good family." Calbrinia continued unabated.

Dain made a face and turned back to his meal with annoyance. "Yes, yes, she's all that. But Fili don't need my approval to seek courtship. You should know better lass." He grunted and then looked over at Hinnin. "Did you just step on my boot?"

"My apologies." The elf spoke smoothly.

Dain grunted, turning to find Calbrinia focused on him still. "What?"

"You're not interested in her, are you?"

Dain wasn't stupid, just a bit thick sometimes. Especially in a courtship. Which is exactly where he'd just discovered he was. He grunted and shoved Hinnin's foot back toward the elf as it had encroached upon his space yet again. "A craftmaster would be a fine Lady to have at your side, to balance out the warrior. If you're smart."

Calbrinia's smile melted a bit around the edges, until Dain continued. "But if you're even smarter, you find beauty in strength. That brings another kind of balance."

Hinnin's foot did not step on Dain's boot again, while the Iron Hills lieutenants all nodded hopefully.

Calbrinia's smile returned full force. The next traditional step for a dwarrowdam would be to ask for a private walk. Then again, she wasn't exactly the shy type. "My Lord Dain, on the morrow?"

"Yes?"

"Would you assist me in improving my axe footwork?"

Delight spread across Dain's rather craggy and masculine face as he nodded. No dainty walks for this particular lass. He thumped his hand down flat on the table. "My pleasure!"

Hinnin looked around at the beaming smiles of all the dwarrow around him and concluded that learning axe footwork was somehow romantic. He smiled and continued to eat his dinner.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman judged he had been 'social' enough. He blotted his mouth clean of any nonexistent crumbs and folded his napkin neatly. He'd had to bring his own, as apparently dwarves weren't big on the niceties. He looked pointedly at where King Thorin himself used a scrap of some stray fabric.

Apparently Balin caught him looking, stuttering a bit as he explained that supplies were at a premium right now. Spare fabric was going into necessary clothing, repairs, or something to do with mining materials. Saruman nodded, as if he cared.

The White Wizard stood, ready to excuse himself just as a messenger arrived, begging the Crown Prince's ear. Fili listened a moment, his face darkening with temper. He shook his head. "I have nothing to say to that person."

This did not please the wizard. As long as Fili, the dwarven fool, was at odds with his mother then there wasn't a clear delineation between the elves and the dwarves. Not with the presumptive heir to Erebor basically on the same side as those from Rivendell. It didn't matter if he didn't agree with the elves completely, it was all in the perception.

Erelinde put her hand on Fili's forearm, but didn't speak. He turned to look at her, letting some of his tremendous ire seep away. "What do you say?"

Saruman could almost see every dwarrow ear at the table turn toward the white-blonde dam. Even he realized it was a first public test, even if neither the prince nor the lass realized it.

Thorin pretended to be absorbed in his ale, though he was keenly interested in Erelinde's response.

"It is your choice, only you can decide."

Saruman thought he saw the king frown slightly, though he himself applauded the diplomatic non-answer.

But then Erelinde continued in her soft voice. "Just recall, you only have but one mother. What you decide to say or do, is yours though."

Saruman watched the torn indecision on the prince's face, wanting to yell at him to go ahead and end this childish nonsense. He sensed someone approaching, looking up to catch Glorfindel's return to the table.

In the meantime Fili looked over at his uncle, who said nothing, just meeting the gaze of his heir. The blond prince twisted his lips and shook his head. "Tomorrow. Tell her I'll speak with her at the noon meal, in her rooms."

The messenger bobbed his head rather than offering a more subservient bow. Saruman would have boxed his ears for such, but the dwarves seemed not to care. The wizard nodded at everyone before turning to take his leave. He gestured for the prince and his lady to precede him. "I had hoped to challenge you to another game of chess, but perhaps another time."

Fili nodded absently. "Another time." He repeated. He turned to his uncle dipping his head.

Thorin stared at his nephew for a lengthy moment, then nodded back. Breathing became easier around the table as tension ebbed away. It was progress at least. "Erelinde?"

The dwarrowdam looked up at the King Under the Mountain. "Sire?"

"Rest well." Thorin murmured.

A simple exchange, minimal. Balin, across from the king, smiled brightly and added his own words to the white-blonde lass standing next to the prince.

Saruman fought not to sneer. It seemed the child had the tentative approval of the king and that her answer had been satisfactory at least. He himself looked at the female, finding nothing remarkable at all. Still. It seemed she was a source of strength for the prince, and offered support and warmth. In other words, if he wanted to get to Fili, there was an open avenue right there.

Perhaps he lingered too long, staring at the young couple. But something tickled the back of his senses. Saruman looked up to find Glorfindel just looking away from him. Perhaps. Happenstance? The wizard saw no reaction, no slight movement, no anything. Yet he knew that despite chatting amiably with others at the table, Glorfindel was focused. Alert. He could see that the warrior's hands were free, ready to draw a weapon. Long years spent observing his fellow White Council members meant he was more than familiar with even the smallest nuances of their behaviors.

Glorfindel was ready for any eventuality. Watchful. Alert. On edge. Oh, no one watching him would know that, other than he himself. Saruman smiled at those at the table as he walked gracefully back toward his rooms. He could almost feel the scrutiny of the elf warrior.

Something was amiss. Saruman left them all behind as his mind spun round and round. Was he now suspect? Or was he overthinking things?

If Glorfindel, the sword-happy fool, suspected. Then so too did the Lady Galadriel. He thought over his words with her the previous night. Had she not been satisfied? Or was she jumping at shadows? Was this bad for him, or could he make good use of their focus?

Saruman nearly hummed aloud as his mind twisted and turned, trying to find the best course for himself.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fuming, Dis fought to keep her words in check as she didn't want to take out her ire on the poor messenger. "Tomorrow?"

The dwarrow nodded silently at her.

Dis swallowed hard, it was difficult to wait. Yet, knowing the depths that Fili's anger could achieve perhaps she should be grateful he was willing to see her at all. "Wait. This Erelinde, is she free?"

"She is walking with the prince, I believe."

That stung. Of course he'd want to walk with the dam he was courting. It wasn't a slap at her. Yet it felt like it. Dis rolled her shoulders. No. It was the proper thing for a young swain to do with his lady. Nehili would have done the same with her if his family had survived Smaug, she was sure. "That's good then."

The messenger on duty nodded at her, ready to take his leave.

"Wait, I apologize. But what of ... Tauriel?" Dis pasted a smile on her face that didn't appear to be fooling the messenger at all. He eyed her warily and she let the expression go. "Ask her if she would speak with me. Alone."

If the dwarrow had any concerns about the request, he kept them to himself as he took his leave.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	49. In which the hidden comes to light

"All that I'm saying is that the crafting room is already 'ruined' for you, so we might as well completely destroy any chance that you'll be able to focus in there ever again."

The softly heated words, along with his beard, tickled her ear so much she involuntarily shivered and moved her head away. Her wide sky-blue eyes sparkled even as she gave a most deliberate frown. "You're trying to tempt me."

"Yes." Fili breathed out the word though the volume was so low she merely felt the rumble of his answer against her ear. His nose nudged the top of her ear making her breath catch in her lungs. "I have too many beads."

It was a question unspoken, hinted at only. Yet still quite direct. Was she willing to put the nashatal braids in her hair? Oh, modern dwarrow had been known to eschew the old ways out living above ground and with humans. Betrothals had come about quite often without the traditional braids and customs. Yet, he somehow seemed to sense that now living in Erebor she would prefer the distinctly dwarven ways of courtship.

Erelinde caught her bottom lip between her teeth, feeling torn. Part of her really wanted to scream 'yes' and be done with it. Fili's kiss earlier had been a revelation and a temptation. She felt uneasy in her own skin right now. She'd been most content as a crafter on her way to a mastery at a very young age. Happy to be unwed and unencumbered.

The dwarrowdam slid her gaze in a quick peek at Fili's face, finding him smiling at her, waiting. Dwarves were good at waiting. Mining and craftwork took time and a certain precision. Forging? Nothing ever came quickly that was worth having. "I need time."

Fili's mouth widened into a victorious grin, an almost cocky expression settling over his features.

Erelinde drew back very slightly, feeling off balance at his reaction. "What?"

The blond prince leaned in closer to her, bending slightly to meet her gaze levelly. "Anything other than a 'no' from you means your braids will sparkle soon."

"No it doesn't." She protested, though her conviction sounded weak even to her own ears. Deliberately she raised her head proudly and stepped aside, not letting go of his arm but far enough away so that his breath didn't dance along her skin causing that delicious prickling sensation.

Fili patted her hand where their arms linked together while they'd been walking basically aimlessly through the main halls of Erebor. Private, yet not. Completely chaste, but also a way to show other dwarrow where her attentions lay. He wondered if she realized that he was staking a claim publically. Probably, he mused, she was often absent-minded and perhaps naïve, but not stupid. It made him happy though, that she was allowing this small display in front of everyone.

Erelinde felt she couldn't catch a complete breath. It was like part of her was dying off, along with a future she'd always assumed would be hers. Oh, if she allowed this courtship to continue she could still be a Master crafter. But …becoming Fili's wife would mean she would not entirely belong to herself, not anymore. Queen. It was a daunting thought.

Uncertainty held her back from voicing her concerns to him. This idea of marriage was beyond frightening to her. Stepping back from her enclosed bower of beads, bobbins, thread and pins. Life beckoned, bright and at full volume. The familiar empty ache from the loss of her mother and beloved younger brother had her hesitating. It had been so long since she'd really participated with life and the outside world, could she even make the transition?

"Your mind moves faster than a hummingbird's wings." He teased, watching her expression with an intensity that nearly melted her right then and there.

"Are we done showing everyone that you're at my side?" She said, her voice coming out a bit tarter than intended. She softened her words with a smile.

Fili's grin only grew. "I knew you would realize that." He said with a touch of pride. "Where to now? I vote for your crafting room."

Erelinde couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her, even as she shook her head. "Let us see if your brother is back from his meeting."

The blond prince's mood dampened slightly at the thought of just whom his brother had been speaking with. Their mother. The one he'd cut off from his life. With a small nod he turned, leading the way.

"She's the only one you will ever have." The dwarrowdam said, having no trouble keeping up with where his mind had gone. Though her voice held a certain nonjudgmental air that he appreciated. Most of the dwarves had been stoically silent about his outburst, but also quite disapproving. Most of them anyway.

"That gives her leave to be forgiven for any and every action?"

Erelinde tilted her head to rest on his shoulder as they walked slowly together in the public hallways. "No. But will you also throw away any and every action that was to the good as well?"

Fili could almost feel the kernel of rage still within him start to soothe along the outside edges. "I will think on it." Was all he promised though, and she pushed not at all.

The sweet dwarrowdam on his arm let the moment go, sensing instinctively that her point had been received. "Father's gone." She said as they entered the main dining area to see who was still around. By unspoken accord the duo approached Tauriel, Dori and Ori who were sharing a pot of tea companionably.

"I did not mean for it to be so hot!" Tauriel laughed at herself in a self-depreciating manner, shaking her head with a resigned air. "The peppers I traded for with Calbrinia held far more heat than I am used to in the Mirkwood."

Dori chuckled as he nodded to the new arrivals, smiling in approval at the nice picture they made standing together. "I can make some more tea." He offered.

"We're fine." Fili said after a look at Erelinde to confirm she didn't want any. He then turned his attention to Tauriel. "Don't tell that to anyone else, they were having too much fun."

Erelinde nodded in agreement, her sky-blue eyes twinkling with humor. "I wondered why you were using so many peppers." She gave a sheepish look over at Tauriel's face. "I just thought elves must have cast iron taste buds."

Snorting laughter met her words as Fili's face reddened with mirth. The she-elf sighed and shook her head. "Did I make a hash out it?"

"Hash?" Ori asked, his look confused for a second before clearing. "Oh, like when you throw together everything you have left in the pantry?"

"A mess." Tauriel clarified.

Dori shook his head widely for emphasis. "Bifur loved it, and everyone was having a grand time. Don't apologize, don't explain."

"Just smile at them and say nothing." The Crown Prince added.

"He's right." Erelinde supplied with a gentle smile as she patted Fili's arm, which she was still holding. "I know you were originally working on a different gift for Bifur sponsoring your braids, though. A beverage?"

Fili turned his head quickly, catching Tauriel pressing her lips together in uncertainty. "Ale?"

The red-head shook her head to indicate his guess was not correct, at his quizzical look she shrugged. "A simple Silvan camp brew. Nothing terrible, a rather rough drink actually. It would not have passed muster within King Thranduil's halls."

Somehow her companions knew she wasn't trying to insult the dwarves by saying their tastes were lower than that of the elvish ruler. They rather suspected she meant that Thranduil would not have lowered his nose long enough to even sniff at something he felt was beneath him.

"It is nowhere near ready." Tauriel admitted. "But I will continue with it. Perhaps it will serve as one of the courtship gifts for Kili?"

Fili grinned and deliberately licked his lips. "I look forward to trying it." He teased her while offering support at the same time. Ori nodded enthusiastically, adding his agreement. The noise of someone approaching from behind had all of them turning, catching sight of the dwarrow assigned to running messages.

Fili's sapphire eyes narrowed, wondering if his mother was seeking to send him another message. "Yes?" He spoke a bit too roughly.

The dwarf stilled, his eyes widening as he looked from Erelinde to the prince and then a quick flick of his eyes at Tauriel and the seated dwarves. His gaze dropped, then rose, solely upon Erelinde.

Fili swallowed whatever harsh words he felt rising within him, striving for patience. "You have a message?"

"For the lady elf." The dwarrow muttered, still watching Erelinde who was paying him no mind.

Fili grunted and dryly pointed to the other side of him. "Lady Tauriel is on THIS side of me."

"Aye." The dwarrow blushed, still staring goggle-eyed at the pretty blonde dam as if unable to stop himself.

A growly sigh escaped the prince, but Erelinde simply increased the pressure on his arm very slightly. A signal to be calm, she was not offended and neither should he be. Fili wasn't sure he agreed. He stared at the dwarrow hard enough to make the warrior who was actually older than he, drop his gaze. When the messenger looked back up it was at the prince and no other.

"The Princess wants to see the lady." He paused, swallowed and shrugged at the same time. "The elven one."

Fili drew up sharply, temper spouting upwards, only held in check by supreme act of will alone. "Oh?" His voice sounded ice cold and as cutting as the sharpest forged blade.

Erelinde felt the change in the male next to her with worry, but was unsure how to respond. Tauriel put her hand on Fili's shoulder in a soothing manner as she rose from her seat. "Would you be kind enough to escort me?" She asked the messenger, not because she needed any help finding the right rooms, but to let Fili know she was fine with the request.

The prince's eyes closed, shuttering the icy rage of his gaze for a moment. When he opened them again, he looked up at Tauriel. "It may not be pleasant." He warned.

"And I will not know until I go." The red-head spoke reassuringly. "And she is a part of the mountain, the family, and our lives." If the she-elf had any reservations about meeting Kili's mother, she gave no hint of such.

Dori nodded a bit stiffly, though he looked approvingly up at the she-elf. Ori simply looked a bit uneasy but not knowing what to say.

"I can go with you."

Tauriel stopped, a bit surprised. For all her closeness with Kili and even with her growing friendships here, she was not that close with Fili. There was a general acceptance between them, mostly unspoken, of a mutual love and devotion to a certain brunet princling. Each recognized that the other would do anything for Kili, and thus they had an accord between them, of a sorts. This offer, especially since she knew Fili had no wish to see his mother right now, meant quite a lot. "I thank you." She said with deep sincerity. "But I would not ask such of you."

"I offer freely." He told her in his indomitable manner, his gaze steady upon hers.

Green eyes warmed and her smile was thankful. "I will be fine." Then she bobbed her head to him. "I appreciate the offer." She said with quiet appreciation.

Fili smiled back at her, nodding. He patted Erelinde's hand. "We will be waiting for you."

Support, acceptance, warmth. Tauriel smiled with relief, her hand moving of its own accord to her nashatal braids. Once realizing that she was touching the clasps that Kili had gifted to her, she dropped her hand with a soft blush.

Fili grinned. "You're stuck with us now." He teased. "Can't chase us off even with that sauce …hmm …it needs a name."

Dori shook his head ruefully. "I have no taste buds left, and very little skin on my tongue." He exaggerated teasingly.

Erelinde smiled. "Forge Fire sauce? Melted Nickel?" She suggested, mentioning a substance with a very high melting point.

Fili snorted. "Dragon Fire?"

"Dragon's Demise!" Ori said excitedly, half standing for emphasis.

Tauriel laughed, shaking her head at the group as she gestured for the messenger to lead the way to meet with the Lady Dis.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Sealyn was waiting for him downstairs. He'd promised. Nori frowned as he looked around the room again. Four bunks. Four dwarrow.

Brinarg was of the Iron Hills, but had immigrated there only in the last two decades according to everyone he'd talked to about the dwarf who'd died. Presumptively taking the same poison he'd tried to use on the King and the other high guests and royal family.

No privacy. Not here. The other three dwarrow had not been close with Brinarg, finding him basically unapproachable other than simply surface greetings and the ilk. Not a terribly well liked fellow.

Nori stood, turning this way and that. The room had been searched already. But …if you were a dwarf used to taking things, this room would be the LAST place you'd want to stash them.

Only …Brinag hadn't been a thief. An assassin? Possibly. An agitator most certainly. "A spy." Nori muttered, sure of it though he lacked definitive proof.

Spies had things to hide. Ideas weren't tangible. But messages were. The red-bearded dwarf considered his options. If not in this room, then where? Would he have kept them on him? And if so? How?

"You're a difficult dwarrow to understand."

Surprised, and yet not, Nori turned to see Sealyn standing in the doorway. Watching him with her cool hazel-eyed gaze. He said nothing.

"You've quarreled with the king. Not in favor. Yet, I never hear you complain about him."

"Want a detailed and itemized list of my complaints?" Nori asked rather dryly.

Sealyn pulled her shawl closer around her as she shook her head.

"What would you do with a message that you didn't want anyone to know about?" He asked her out of the blue.

Surprised, Sealyn gave him a thoughtful look. "Memorize it and destroy it."

"Too much information and you needed to keep it." Nori countered.

"Hide it."

The dwarrow nodded and smiled, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. He offered her his arm.

Sealyn gave him a cautious look and then slipped her arm through his. "You are very difficult to understand."

"I like ale, gold, and you." He grinned at the disgusted look on her face. "Reverse that order."

The dwarrowdam sniffed, as if she wasn't sure whether or not to believe him.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel didn't have to announce herself, the dwarrow messenger took care of that for her. She walked into the sparsely appointed rooms not knowing what to expect. She'd walked into battles with less caution than she had right now.

"Wine or ale?"

The red-head stilled. It was a question of choosing the more elven beverage, or the one that was more closely associated with dwarves. Was this a test?

A thousand scenarios and conclusions ran through her mind. Wine could prove distancing if Dis saw it as an Elven beverage, though she knew that dwarves drank it too. Choosing ale, however, could be seen as forcing a trespass. Infringing on the dwarrow culture. Asking for water could be seen as cowardice.

These thoughts took less than half a second and Tauriel watched as Dis' head started to lift upwards. "I will join you in whatever you're having." She said evenly as she stepped boldly into the room and closer to Kili's mother.

It appeared Dis was having wine. Tauriel watched as the princess poured the glasses and handed one to her. The elf took the glass, and a seat across from the dwarrowdam.

"I have you to thank for the lives of my family." Dis began rather bluntly before sipping her wine. "So they tell me."

"No thanks would be welcome." Demurred the she-elf. "It was selfishness on my part."

"Oh?"

"I could not bear to see him part this world."

Him. Kili. Dis watched the she-elf as if she'd never before seen or spoken with one of her race. "You love him." It was said in wonder.

Tauriel could not deny the truth, nor the courting clasps within her nashatal braid. "I do." She took a sip of her own wine. It was dry and crisp just as she knew Thranduil would enjoy. She herself favored a fruitier flavor.

"His blood outstrips you."

Tauriel paused, wondering if Dis knew of Silvan elves, or if it was a mere guess. She nodded carefully. "I am aware."

"Elevates you."

Ah. The she-elf considered her possible responses. "To what purpose do you refer to, princess?"

"You call me princess and have to ask that question?" Dis's voice turned a bit brittle, as if irritated suddenly. "My son is a prince of Ebebor. Marriage to you would make him, what?"

Tauriel eyed the female across from her, her expression a mask that gave away nothing of her racing thoughts. "I did not fall in love with him in order to seek a crown, or a title."

"Of course not." Dis words and tone were at odds with each other, she was not sure she believed the elf's declarations. "If he marries you, he will be giving up his position."

The she-elf wasn't sure how to phrase what she had to say next to avoid offering too much disrespect. "He is his brother's shield and right hand, that will not change."

Dis drew in a sharp breath. Fili. Not mentioning the crown prince by name did not diminish the sharp ache in her heart when her eldest was brought up.

"Kili chooses not to be his brother's direct heir, believing that there will be children." Tauriel continued when Dis didn't immediately speak.

"Kili's choice?" It was a question dripping with disbelief in her voice.

"His choice."

"As you are his choice? Not that elf's?"

Tauriel blinked then shook her head. "I am not Elladan's choice. For anything."

"Nor mine." Dis said pointedly, then held up a hand before the she-elf could react. "I have no doubt my son believes himself in love with you. But you are far older than he, and should know the difference between mithral and a cheap alloy."

Temper unfurled beneath Tauriel's heart. She put her wine glass down, mostly untouched. Pinning Dis with her clear-eyed gaze she took a deep breath. "Kili loves you. I knew that from the first, long before I or anyone else other than you knew of his actual parentage."

Dis' eyes flashed with annoyance but she did not interrupt.

"I will seek not to argue or fight with you. You will not be disrespected by me, not in public nor private. I owe you that as the mother of he whom I love."

"How nice." Dis said between clenched teeth.

"I have asked your son to marry me and he has said yes. We love one another. He is facing the opposition of you and indeed all that are of his race." Tauriel paused, dropping her gaze for one moment. "What he considers his race. While I have left mine behind, to join a family that isn't sure of me or my place with them."

The dwarrowdam princess shook her head, not wanting to hear the cool, even voice of the she-elf.

"We will have difficulties. I know this. He knows this. I would hope that you will not stand in our way. That you will be a part of our family."

"Your family!" Dis stood in her towering outrage. "It is my family you seek to destroy!"

Tauriel stood, moving to take her leave. "It sorrows me that you feel this way, princess. Good night."

Dis watched the tall red-head all the way to the door, a panicked feeling welling up within her. "Wait!"

Tauriel paused, turning. She said nothing.

Dis swallowed hard as she fought to marshal her feelings into a semblance of control. "I would request …" She stomach roiled as she said that last word. "Request a chance …to get to know you." She lied.

The she-elf knew that the dwarrowdam wasn't serious, not really. Still. "I would like that." She lied right back.

"If you're going to be a princess of Erebor, there are things you will need to know." Dis straightened her spine so much it looked like she'd been cast of iron.

Tauriel inclined her head respectfully, but did not take her eyes off of the female. "For Kili."

"For Kili." Dis agreed a bit hoarsely.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili was up before the sun was doing more than throwing up rays to peek over the rocky edges of the mountain. A tease of light to begin the day.

No strangers to hard labor, many of the dwarves had already broken their fasts and begun the lengthy job of reclaiming Erebor from years of neglect and disrepair. Great inroads had been made on securing the infrastructure to the once mighty Dwarven kingdom, but far too much remained to be accomplished.

Still, it gave Kili quite a thrill to be walking down these hallowed halls, seeing the wondrous craftsmanship of his ancestors. His smile faded a bit as he shook his head. Half of his ancestors. Ah well. It still made him happy to be here. Alive. With Thorin as king. With Fili. With his mam safe within the walls of their old, yet new, home. Then there was Tauriel.

Kili whistled a jaunty tune as he reached the healing halls, poking his head inside. He grinned when he saw Oin, Nuluin and Elrond already speaking together. "I thought I would be early."

Lord Elrond's face gave nothing away, but Oin did not look terribly thrilled. Kili's mood slipped a bit as he gripped the door handle harder. "Not good news?"

"Not bad news." Nuluin spoke gently. "Come in, come in."

Kili sighed and shook his head. "I don't think I want to come in after all." If these three healers hadn't found a way to help him, then there was no one left in Arda who could.

Elrond approached, gently leading his grandson inside and shutting the door behind him. "Perhaps the news isn't all that you may hope for, but it isn't bad."

"That depends." Kili said dryly. "From your viewpoint, or mine?" Though he took a seat at the table with the others.

"I'm sorry, lad." Oin said with a touch too much volume, but with a lot of sympathy in his steady gaze.

"So, I can't be fixed." Kili sounded woebegone as he slumped unhappily in his chair.

Elrond's lips twitched in suppressed amusement. "I told you before, you're not broken, child."

Kili pointed at the sire of his own father. "Child. That's the important word here, isn't it? To the elves, I'm still an infant."

"Hardly that." Elrond's amusement faded like mist as he shook his head slightly. "Young, yes. But it seems you age quickly for an elfling, but slowly for a proper dwarrow."

"The opposite way." Murmured Kili.

"Pardon, Kuilaith?"

The young brunet flinched only slightly at the elvish name. He was getting pretty used to it by now, but it still stung when it was the blood from THAT side of the family keeping him from waking up as he should.

"Just something that Uncle Thorin always said about me, that if there is a right way and a wrong way that he could count on me to go the opposite way."

Elrond nodded. "An apt description, perhaps. But at least it's not the wrong way."

Kili rolled his eyes upwards at his grandfather. "Are you sure we're related?" He half-joked.

"Your body seeks to wake from stone as it were." Nuluin spoke up at last. "But just as a bones grow at their own pace and time, so does your sexual maturity."

Kili blinked at the frank and open tone of voice discussing something private. Then again, after the previous day's exam, he shouldn't have a shy bone left in his poor body. "Twenty years?"

"I would estimate more like ten to fourteen years." Elrond sounded sympathetic. He also sounded damnably sure. Kili shuddered.

"The potion?" The prince asked next, his voice rather small. "Dark apple?"

"Darkroot and thorn apple." Oin supplied with a sneer of distaste. "Nasty."

Elrond was already shaking his head. "I am afraid it might not work properly, and it is never a good idea to rush forward with something that will occur most naturally on its own."

"In ten to fourteen years." Kili said sadly.

"It could have side effects." Oin patted the young prince on the shoulder with true sympathy and remorse. "With no guarantees to work."

Kili growled without heat, sounding despondent. "It would work if I were a full dwarf."

"Yes." Elrond said simply. "But if you were fully dwarrow the potion wouldn't be needed at all."

"This light of the Eldar thing within me?" Kili squinted one eye as he peered at his own elven ancestor. "Is it pushing on things inside me?"

Nuluin nearly choked as he looked away, trying to keep his composure.

Elrond shook his head at the very young descendant of his line. "The Eldar light is not a physically tangible object, Kuilaith."

"Didn't think so." The brunet sounded rejected as he picked randomly at a rubbed out spot of varnish on the table. "So …what can I do? Do I have any options?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

King Thorin II of Erebor stared with nauseated rage at the fire-blackened scrap on his desk. A few flakes along the edges broke off, just under the weight of his gaze, or so it seemed in his dark thoughts. "He tried to burn it."

Nori nodded, not commenting on stating the obvious. He uncrossed his arms to point at the partial message. "It was hidden in a Dwarven puzzle box in one of the lounges. He was the only one whoever fiddled with it. Hidden in plain sight. Apparently he tried to destroy it, then changed his mind."

"How did you find out it was his?" Thorin couldn't believe what he was seeing in front of him, nor could he fathom how Nori had worked it all out to find it.

"Something hidden, but not out of sight. Common area, but he was seen playing with the box for hours. Pretended he didn't know how to work it." Nori looked smug as he nodded in remembrance. "But those runes? They're too fresh to predate Smaug's attack. This box be newish. But the marks don't read Iron Hills, they're of Erebor. Which makes no sense for a new piece."

Thorin grunted in abject approval.

"Took me a bit to work out the sequence to open the puzzle box, it's not the normal type. A hundred and two moves to get inside it." Nori said with very little humility.

Thorin grunted, squatting down to peer at the offending scrap, unwilling to touch it. The language was unknown to him, but he could almost feel the vileness of what was commonly called Black Speech. "Call Gandalf."

Nori frowned, uncertain. "The Witch of the Woods?" His mind ran over the gamut of whom was available. "We know Lord Elrond speaks the old tongues."

Thorin grunted as he straightened. "Perhaps, but not yet. I want to know what this monstrosity says first. It was held by a dwarf, I want to know how deep this goes before sharing."

If Nori disagreed, he did not comment, merely bowing. Only he and the king knew about this, was it so unreasonable to keep the information close at hand? "Gandalf is not within Erebor."

The King sighed unhappily, running a hand over his face as he cursed under his breath. "He always goes larking off just when needed the most."

"And arrives at the last possible moment to keep us from being a troll's meal." Nori said with a sardonic expression. "He and that Radagast fellow are with Glorfindel and Dwalin, riding the parameters of the kingdom. Seeing if there is any evidence of more earth movers in the area."

"I know, I gave them permission to go." Thorin groused, having forgotten he'd sent them off. "Glorfindel …he's got something on his mind. He's not sharing either."

Nori nodded, having heard how the golden warrior had started talking about the Earth Movers, goblins and orcs after dinner the previous night. Somehow that had translated into whisking off two wizards, Dwalin and several of Dain's warriors on a small journey that would take over a week to complete. "They left before light."

Thorin snorted, shaking his head. "I told them it could save and leave on the morrow. It's not like we don't have plenty of work to go around." He paused and picked up a drafting scale, barely resisting the urge to poke at the half-burnt message scrap. "Glorfindel is up to something."

"You will wait for Gandalf?" Nori asked, not sure he could if it were him as king.

"No." Thorin did not sound happy at the moment. "Bring me Saruman, if you will." He sighed and made a decision far bigger than he'd intended. "And Lord Elrond."

Nori nodded, moving to the door. Opening it he interrupted Kili as the brunet prince was about to tap and announce his presence.

Thorin moved to stand in front of his desk, blocking the scrap from general view. He crossed his arms and legs as he leaned back casually. "Sister-son?"

Kili nodded at Nori as the red-bearded dwarf exited the king's study. He looked back at Thorin hopefully, in a way that indicated he wanted to talk.

Thorin briefly considered sending the lad away, there were weighty matters ahead. But he recalled how he and Balin thought the young prince was feeling marginalized, left out of governing. "Come in, I'd like to get your views on how to set up the mountains defense parameters most effectively. Winter storms won't hold off forever."

"Really?" Kili's slightly hopeful expression lit up like water thrown on a magnesium fire.

Thorin couldn't help but chuckle and gesture toward seats placed around the hearth. It appeared he'd been neglecting his nephew of late. Worried about his body of stone or learning his elvish lessons, but not including him in the day to day governing of a kingdom. He was in a unique position to know what that felt like, having been treated such by Thror so long ago. "I only have a few minutes, but let us make use of them."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili squatted down, making an irritated whistling noise as he inspected the metal rods. He picked the most recently forged one up, it was still hot, though not burning. Standing he shook his head. "Too small."

"I did what I was told!" A stubborn dwarf with a thick beard of faded ginger sneered. "There's nothing wrong with my work!"

Fili held out his hand to the side. Bofur put the template in his outstretched palm without saying a word, his silence a judgement all on its own. The blond prince held the two metal bars side by side. He looked up balefully at the dwarrow who had his arms crossed over his burly chest. "These look the same size to you?"

The dwarf peered closely at one, then the other. He looked up, turned his head and spat. "He'un switched the size on me. Doesn't want you to know he made a mistake."

Bofur rose up on the toes of his work boots, ready to spit nails as he blasted the other dwarrow verbally.

Fili sighed, letting the two yell at each other as he looked at the large pile of wrong sized rods. "We could use these in the third eastern shaft, can't we Bofur?"

"That shaft be closed!" The hatted dwarf yelped, pointing his finger at the stubborn smithy who was sneering at him. "We needed spikes made for the Tigett shaft! You know, the one we're trying to open!"

The smithy, one of those who'd arrived with Stormrune, said something rude. Bofur said something ruder. One shout led to more.

Fili sighed, looking around he caught the glances thrown his way. He smiled gamely and whistled loud enough to echo off the mine walls. "Listen up!"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Erelinde, out of sheer habit, turned right at the main juncture of the hallways. It wasn't until she was half-way to the staircase leading to her crafting halls that her steps slowed. Sheepishly she turned around and started walking the other direction, ignoring any looks thrown her way.

She'd been thinking so hard she'd not been paying attention. She had someone she wanted to talk to this morning, before beginning her craft work. This was important. And private.

Getting to her destination, she knocked before she could reconsider. When the door was opened, she smiled brightly, if a bit nervously.

Tauriel smiled back curiously. "You're out early."

Erelinde frowned. "Why because I only leave my crafting when Fili comes to take me to dinner?" She saw the hesitant look on the she-elf's face and relented. "Sorry, sorry. I've not slept well worrying."

Surprised to be the one sought out instead of the dam's close friends from home, the red-head opened her door wider and silently invited Erelinde inside.

The white-blond dam looked helpless, and a little lost, not her usual self at all. "What is wrong?" Tauriel asked her.

After a few moments of indecision, Erelinde finally sighed heavily and just asked her question in a round-about way. "What is royalty really like?" Then she winced, hearing her own voice and shook out her hands as she amended what she was asking. "What are queens like?"

Stunned, the she-elf shrugged. Judging by the quick look of disappointment, Tauriel hastened to explain. "I've never met one. King Thranduil's wife had passed before I ever joined his court."

Erelinde blew out a frustrated breath and laughed at herself. "Sorry. I just thought you might know."

"Are you thinking of wearing a nashatal braid?" Tauriel asked in her matter-of-fact manner as she tried to work out in her mind the crux of the dam's concerns.

One hand flew to her perfectly coiled braids and the sweet dwarrowdam sighed. "Brunere said she couldn't picture me in the middle of dwarven politics." She admitted.

Perfectly arched eyebrows rose in surprise. "That doesn't sound like her." Tauriel said of the usually very kind healer.

"Oh, she wasn't trying to be mean." Erelinde assured the elf. "And she likes Fili. It's just, she knows me. I've been …absorbed. With crafting. To the exclusion of …well, nearly everything. Ever since I lost most of my family other than my da."

Tauriel nodded, though she wasn't sure she was making all the correct connections. "You are worried about being a queen?"

"What do queens do?" Erelinde asked, spreading her hands to show her uncertainty.

"I would suppose that depends on the queen." Tauriel nearly laughed as the usually calm dam rolled her eyes. "Perhaps you should speak with the Lady Dis."

Erelinde made a snorty sort of noise and shook her head. "Fili is upset with his mother. I do not want to step in between them, it would be far too awkward. Especially for a first meeting."

Tauriel thought of Kili's mother and wondered if he were interested in Erelinde instead of she, then would Dis still have a difficult time with his betrothal? Somehow she thought the princess would be far more accepting of the dwarrowdam, than of she as an elf.

"You left all you knew, a millennia of family and friends, to come underground just to be with someone you love. Facing armies and dwarven relatives and leaving your king and people." The dwarrowdam's voice showed her admiration and near awe. "I don't know if I have that kind of courage in me."

Tauriel laughed, she couldn't help herself. "Courage or stupidity, it depends on who is looking at me at the moment."

Erelinde shrugged. "I'm looking at you, and I like what I see. And any fool can see that when Kili looks at you, he's in love."

"Well, I'm thinking that a queen defines her own role. That's part of what makes her a queen. You have risen nearly to the top of your field from what Dori says." Erelinde blushed at the she-elf's words. "If you can learn that, you can learn to be a queen."

"Thank you." The white-blonde dwarrowdam gave a little laugh. "You must find me silly."

"No." Tauriel smiled. "Though, I am not the millennia old you think I am. If you want information on a real queen, I can see if the Lady of Light would meet with you."

Erelinde's sky-blue eyes rounded comically and she shook her head very quickly, thinking of the night-time scary stories of the Witch of the Wood. "I understand that she's not as the tales say, but she intimidates me."

"Me as well, though she has been kind." Tauriel said as someone new knocked on her door. Startled, she shook her head. "I'm popular today."

Opening the door and seeing who was there dried up her smile. Erelinde made a questioning noise as she noticed her friend's posture straightening tightly. In response Tauriel opened the door fully to reveal the Lady Dis.

"Oh good, a chance to speak with you both." The older dwarrowdam said with a placid smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elladan had heard that his son might be meeting with Thorin and was half-way waiting for the lad. New arrivals aside, Kuilaith needed to continue his lessons. He hoped the young prince would enjoy some more training such as the Rangers used, and he found he was looking forward to it as well.

Still and all. Dis was back in Erebor. How would that change how he and Kuilaith got along? They'd been doing so much better. Would that dissipate now with his mother's presence beneath the mountain? He found himself nervous of his first real meeting with his son now that Dis was in residence. Kuilaith had met with her last night too. How had that gone? Had she said anything to the lad? Would he and his son have to start all over again? Surely not. He hoped.

"Child?"

Elladan smiled with some relief, he was nearly three thousand years old, but would always be his father's elfling. "Break of the morning to you, my father. I hope you rested well and the light of this day brings you peace." He turned to greet his sire.

Lord Elrond smiled, liking the changes he could readily see in this child of his. Being a father was doing wondrous things to pull Elladan out of the shadows of grief. "And to you, my son. How does this day look to you? You have plans?"

"I have been training with Kuilaith in the mornings, his afternoons belong to my mother's mother." The younger elf lord spoke quietly, pleased as his father smiled with encouragement. "Indeed, I wait for him now. I believe he is seeing King Thorin."

"Which is whom I am to see as well, I wonder if this is about the prince's health?" Elrond hurried to explain as he saw his son's instant worry. "Kuilaith is in remarkably good shape. The pneumonia that Nuluin told me about is gone without leaving any residuary problems. Only his …maturity concerns him at the moment."

Elladan grimaced with a half-smile as he nodded. "He is in a hurry to wed." He admitted.

"I cannot blame him for that. He seems quite mature and speaks of Tauriel not with adolescent fervor, but true love." Elrond tested the waters cautiously, not wanting to upset Elladan but needing to speak the truth as he saw it. "Kuilaith cannot be treated as a true elfling without consideration for his dwarrow blood, nor indeed for his feelings."

The younger elf smiled winsomely and shook his head. "We have come a long way in our thinking since we first rode into Erebor thinking to retrieve a child."

Elrond had the grace to bow and nod. "Your son was not the only one who had some growing to do."

"Now he thinks he's full grown and ready to wed. Is he?"

"Unfortunately for him, not for another decade at least." Elrond told him. "The only question now is will he suppress the pain and discomfort with potions or learn to control his body on his own?"

"He has been doing without potions thus far." Elladan said with some pride. "His lessons are difficult, as he does not sit still well. That would be the dwarfling in him."

"Are you sure? No, that couldn't possibly come from you." Elrond said with wry sarcasm, startling a laugh from his son. "I seem to recall you and your brother not being able to sit still for more than half a second at a time."

"Not true!"

"Ah, yes." The elf father nodded solemnly, though his lips were twitching slightly. "When you two were plotting you sat still quite well. It is how I knew to keep a sharper eye out."

Elladan laughed, a remarkable sound to his sire, who had not heard it since Bainnid's death nearly eighty years prior. "The time to keep a sharper eye out on Kuilaith is when he is with Tauriel. It is a good thing Dwarves use chaperones."

Elrond hesitated, wondering if he should let his son know that Oin had explained that Kili, as he called him, now possessed the third courting bead. Which meant, no dwarven chaperones anymore. No. Perhaps …he would wait. It's not as if the lad could do anything untoward, not with his body remaining as stone.

"Have you two been royally summoned as well?" The arch tones of the White Wizard interrupted Elrond's musings. Elrond turned as Saruman approached, greeting him a bit stiffly.

"Not I." Elladan held up his hands as if in surrender. "I but await my son."

"I am to meet with the king, you as well?" Elrond eyed the wizard perhaps longer than necessary. Galadriel's concerns weighed on him, even as he'd defended the wizard to her. Saruman was not the warmest of fellows, but he was solidly against Sauron. He had to be. Last night he'd been sure of it. But he had now had all night to dwell on the Lady's worries, and he wasn't as sure anymore. No. Saruman spoke of Sauron with no love, that could not be faked.

"Well, I do not plan to stand around like a child summoned to his father's study." Saruman apparently was not fond of waiting as he tapped on the door.

It was Kuilaith who opened the door to the King's study, smiling easily at those gathered around. He stepped out to allow Saruman and Elrond to enter with polite greetings offered. He waited for his father to enter, but Elladan shook his head and pointed silently at the young brunet. Kuilaith nodded and shut the door to give the meeting privacy.

Kili eyed his father and Elladan watched him right back. In the light of Dis' arrival neither knew quite what to say. Finally Kili flicked his head backwards toward Thorin's study. "I met with your father."

Mentally Elladan rearranged his thoughts, temporarily pushing aside any words on Dis. "He says you are in good health."

"Not as good as I'd like." Kili sighed ruefully. "It should make you happy."

Elladan drew in a sharp, hissing breath. "I do not wish you in pain, son."

"No, no!" The brunet hurried to clarify, having not realized just how his words had sounded. "Not my meaning! I just meant there would be a delay for me to grow up."

"My father assures me he finds you most grown up already. You have impressed him."

Kili shook his head. "I did nothing but babble all day about Tauriel and Erebor. I pretty much made a fool of myself, and a pest."

"Lord Elrond of Imladris disagrees with your self-assessment, perhaps you should reconsider your thoughts about yourself."

An awkward silence settled between the two, finally Elladan sighed. "I know you spoke with her last evening."

Kuilaith winced but nodded. "Look, this isn't easy for either one of you and I don't want to be in between it all."

"See? Not a fool at all. Quite wise in fact."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"This has a name in Khuzdul, of course. But all you need to know is that this will be your home." Dis spread her arms indicating the large hall deep inside the mountain.

Tauriel couldn't help but think of her cozy room along the outside balcony that offered access to the sky and stars. This large hall was nearly a mile underground and covered by rock and stone. Buried.

Erelinde's smile was a bit pale. All morning she'd heard Dis poke and prod at Tauriel, who had as yet failed to snap at the dwarrowdam. She herself was gaining a headache and feeling irritable. Dis kept holding her up as a "dwarrowdam" in front of the she-elf, but at the same time dismissing the crafter. The blond had admitted she did not have any experience dealing with those outside of her crafting circles. Apparently this had not pleased Fili's mother at all.

"You are wearing a nashatal braid, which means you intend to follow the traditional dwarrow ways." Dis sounded far too smug to Erelinde's ears. "Isn't it wonderful down here? So safe, so covered, and protected."

"So trapped."

Everyone stilled, and of them all it was Erelinde herself that was most surprised to find she'd spoken aloud. Straightening she offered a quick explanation. "Da always said that when Smaug attacked, it was these chambers that were so hard to reach."

Dis smiled, but it was more a baring of her teeth. "I know. I was residing here. Brave dwarven warriors fought their way through rubble and dragon fire to rescue me and the other dwarflings and dams." Her voice sounded forced as she tried to sound light. "It is unlikely there will be a second dragon attack."

"There was no back way out?" Tauriel sounded appalled, thinking of how many dwarves could have lived in such a large space. From where she stood she could see multiple spacious hallways leading presumably to rooms.

"There was, but it collapsed in the fighting." Dis admitted with a frown of remembrance.

Seeing the mask-like expression on her friend's face, Erelinde shook her head gently. "Tauriel would not have to live down here if she chooses not to."

Dis' eyes narrowed on the bit of pretty fluff her eldest was pursuing. Window decoration, this one. Hardly a word spoken all morning. Nothing but craft beneath those pretty braids. Did she have nothing to say or no thoughts in her head?

Erelinde shook herself visibly, not wanting to start any arguments with Fili's mam. There was enough trouble between those two already. Still and all, she couldn't allow this to stand. "Not every dam chooses to live separate." She said in a soft voice.

Irritated, Dis watched as Tauriel looked around the large empty space. "This elf is trying to become a dwarrowdam, I simply am showing her how we dams will be living. Once the repairs are made, of course." She gestured over to the others across the room from them.

Erelinde looked over, spying Brunere speaking with several dwarrow, wishing she was with them. It looked like her friend was helping to compile a list of the most necessary repairs to make the space livable.

The Ozinafkhur. Dwarrowdam quarters. It wasn't as simple as it sounded. It was a place of privacy for dams in need. It was also the traditional living quarters for couples when pregnant and in the first few years of a dwarfling's life. But right now, Erelinde couldn't help but see the safe haven as Tauriel might. A cage. And truthfully, so she was feeling much the same.

Unhappy, Erelinde didn't like the thought of coming out of a self-imposed exile from life only to go right into another one, a more physical one. "I won't live here." She said quietly as she came to a decision.

Dis turned and shot her a weighty look, frowning.

The blond's chin rose and she shook her head. Her voice was still polite, her demeanor still respectful. But her words were firm and solid. "I will not live down here."

Surprise flew swiftly across Lady Dis' face, then settled into a more neutral mask. "Whomever you marry might disagree." She said, insinuating that it wasn't certain the young dam would wed Prince Fili.

Tauriel shook her head, not wanting to fan any argumentative flames. "I will speak with Kili on this matter. We will decide together where we will live."

"My son is a proper dwarrow." Hissed Dis. "And a prince among his people, as is Fili. Their wives will have to be proper dwarrowdams."

Erelinde's eyebrows lifted. She was now not considered a proper dwarrowdam? Why? Because the thought of secluding herself was anathema? Because she was friendly with the red-headed she-elf?

Tauriel sniffed the air and shook her head. "I do not like it down here."

"The ventilation is poor and in need of repair." Erelinde explained quietly. "It is not livable, not yet. It is a shame that you see it at its worst."

Dis stilled. Had the fluff-ball just poked a verbal jab at her? Was there more to the child than just beauty?

"There are times that privacy will be nice. But not constantly." Erelinde started pointing out the amenities of the Ozinafkhur which were not apparent in the stripped down shape it was currently in. "The private heated springs were something the older dams waxed on and on about."

Tauriel nodded thoughtfully. "I may have seen them when Kili was ill and the pools were in need."

Dis watched the two females of differing races, appalled. They were getting on in ways she'd not thought possible. Or was the pretty blond merely cozying up to Kili's betrothed in order to help keep her in Fili's sight? That seemed a bit farfetched actually. Dis stepped back, watching, not liking the ease with which the two were speaking. Was Tauriel that ingrained already in what passed as dwarrow society here? That would change as more immigrants arrived, Dis was sure. It had to.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Now." Gandalf puffed lazily upon his pipe, blowing out a perfect smoke ring. He was perched upon a rather cold rock, ignoring the bite of the wind which was actually mild for winter in the mountains. "Why are we out here?"

Glorfindel looked around deliberately. "I see no signs of Earth Movers, do you?"

Dwalin grunted, standing stoically with his arms crossed over his rather burly chest. Frowning.

"The poor, poor creatures. Torn from their habitats." Radagast lifted his hat and held up a fat worm for the bird nested on top of his head.

Dwalin looked over a few feet away, eying Dain's dwarrow. "We're alone."

Glorfindel nodded at Radagast. "I did not see you dig for that worm." He looked pointedly at the undisturbed rocks and snow on the ground around the brown wizard.

"Brought it with me, of course." Radagast smiled absently while Glorfindel eyed the tattered and less than clean robes of the wizard askance.

Gandalf chuckled, drawing upon his pipe.

"Well?" Dwalin huffed.

Glorfindel sighed, turning to stare at Erebor in the distance. "Can wizards listen from this distance?"

Gandalf's eyes widened in surprise and speculation, he turned and looked at Erebor as well. "Who do you want to listen to and shouldn't you have asked about the distance needed before we arrived out here?"

Radagast muttered a bit, but when they glanced at him he was speaking with a preening bird now seated upon his finger. For all the world it appeared as if the bird was winning some small argument.

Dwalin looked at Gandalf and ran though some things in his mind, he then shook his head. "You don't want our words heard by the White Wizard."

At this Radagast did look up. "Hmm?"

Gandalf paused in mid puff, pulling his pipe free from between his lips. "Oh?"

"There are …concerns." Glorfindel sighed, looking most unhappy. "This is mere conjecture and circumstantial at best."

Dwalin shook his head, realizing why he was there. He was the ear to King Thorin. Any of the elves speaking privately with the king would be possibly suspect, but not he. "Half-formed ideas can be dangerous."

"Now that would depend on who is forming those conjectures." Gandalf asked in a leading manner as he lifted his pipe once more. "Some people's thoughts I give more credence to than others."

"Who is concerned?" Dwalin was more to the point.

"The Lady of Light."

Gandalf choked on his smoke while Radagast even turned and started listening.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Black Speech." Elrond's voice was tight with both worry and disgust.

Saruman's expression didn't change, but Thorin got the sense that the wizard was instantly on edge. Not that he could blame him. The mere presence of the vile script somehow seemed to taint the very air in the room. Or so it seemed to feel to him.

"Can you read it?" Thorin asked Elrond, who had moved closer in order to peer down at the writing, though without touching anything.

"It will take time." The elf started to say when suddenly the message was enveloped in a greasy sort of dim light. A whiff of something rotten burning and then under the eyes of them all the message disintegrated into blackened scraps.

Elrond's head snapped up to stare at the White Wizard. "Did you?" The small flash of power had been so quick he'd not been able to tell where it had originated.

"Not I." Saruman spread his hands, standing on the other side of the desk. "Did you perhaps trigger a spell meant to hide the message from prying eyes?"

The tall elf's face clouded in consideration. "I did not think I had done so, and was being careful."

Thorin frowned unhappily, but nodded. "I'd heard rumors of messages that could do such. It wouldn't be hard to rig, actually. Bifur could do such quite easily. Which is why I had the writing copied last night."

"Oh?" Saruman's voice sounded strangely bland all of a sudden.

Lord Elrond frowned in thoughtful consideration. "I don't know, there might have been further messages concealed within the script. The original would have been much better to decipher. Still, it was wise thinking to have it copied."

"Yes, quite wise." Saruman coldly watched as Thorin approached the overlarge desk. He ran through his options. There was no use bemoaning the ill luck of Brinarg saving a message he should have rightfully destroyed. Besides, Galadriel was already suspicious and Glorfindel was not fooling him, pulling the other two wizards away.

It was time.

Saruman slowly drew his power close to him, wrapping himself in it as surreptitiously as possible. He was already well prepared.

He watched Elrond and Thorin, savoring his moment. He walked to the door and the fools paid him no mind. He looked outside and was gratified to see both Elladan and his brat still talking. He gestured to them both.

Elrond looked up as his son and Kuilaith entered. He glanced in surprise at Saruman who gave him the coldest smile he'd ever seen.

Then the world suddenly dimmed and slowed.

Thorin's face turned red as he first noticed that he couldn't move as he should. He felt as if stuck in molasses or some such. He looked around fruitlessly, searching for the source of this foul magic. It wasn't until the wizard spoke that the king felt his stomach drop.

"I only have a few moments." Saruman said in a silky voice, almost crooning. "Holding onto you all is difficult, even for me." He paused and reconsidered. "Well, some of you. Others are of little consequence or strength." He looked toward the bratling.

Elladan made a distressed sound, unable to speak, as he realized he could not send a message with his mind. One look at his father and he judged that neither could Elrond.

Kili was still trying to cipher through what was going on when he was suddenly no longer standing, but bouncing off the stone wall of his uncle's study. His head barked sharply where he struck, the world swimming nauseatingly as he collapsed.

"Do not bother trying to call for assistance. I have blocked this ability." Saruman said coldly.

Elrond's fury blazed out from his eyes, as he found he was unable to speak with either his mind or his mouth. The wizard laughed at him, then tilted his head. "Join me."

The tall elf found there was breath in his lungs once more and he coughed, sputtered. When he could talk at last he found his voice sounded gratingly rough. "You? Or is there someone behind you?"

"The Dark One?" Saruman lifted one eyebrow in a taunting manner. "I do not serve him, but …opposing him would be death. I …assist him, shall we say? I take this to mean you won't join with me. Pity."

Elladan struggled to get to his son, who was still lying in a heap on the floor. Kuilaith was moaning and trying to sit up when suddenly his hands went to his throat as if no longer allowed to breathe. His booted feet kicked out at nothing as he struggled against what he could not fathom. The elf raged on the inside as the young brunet was lifted against the wall without regard, rising and rising until his feet found no further purchase and he was hanging from some unseen power.

"Do I kill the son before the father? Which generation will be the first to be destroyed? Will the youngest see his ancestors fall, or would it be more of a kindness to cease his existence first?" Saruman smiled evilly. "Or take him with me, as proof against any move your surviving family may make? Yes. The Lady finds him in her heart does she? Good."

Elrond tried desperately to reach Galadriel with his mind, but Saruman was quite effective in shutting down that ability. The White Wizard had used the element of surprise well. He was unable to break the hold.

"Kuilaith? Say goodbye to your family. Dwarven and Elven. Then we will be leaving." Saruman did not waste time as he began to force the air from the lungs of all three males.

Kili pushed against the panic, fighting back as best he could. What had the wizard said, some were harder to control than others? Being dismissed as lesser could work in his favor if …. He struggled to center his mind, concentrating as Galadriel and Elladan had been striving to teach him. He'd thrown open the doors to his mind once before, perhaps he could somehow manage to do it again.

"Tch. Such trivial an attempt." Saruman chided him almost gently, making Kili's stomach roil with hatred.

Mental pressure pushed on him, shutting down his ability to focus. Kili whimpered and pulled his conscious mind away from the clammy feel of Saruman's power by instinct alone.

"No, no passing out. I want you to see them die."

Kili blinked as Saruman did something, making him gasp as he was forced to watch. Desperately he fought to locate that Eldar light thingy within him. Scrambling. He pictured Galadriel in his mind, shouting mentally for her, but finding nothing but that wizard's power surrounding him.

Yet the image of the Lady brought to the surface of his mind the image of two trees seemingly made of light and life. There was warmth there that Saruman couldn't seem to touch, his power receded slightly even though it was naught but a memory. He was afraid, but choosing between the unknown and welcoming light and Saruman was no contest. Kili reached out, embracing that light and wrapped himself up in it to escape from the wizard's vile touch.

"Hm?" The wizard seemed to sense something and turned from watching Thorin struggle to breathe just as light poured through the room, flooding it. Blinded for a moment he did not fully comprehend what his mind was telling him was there.

"Leave them alone!"

The next moment, Saruman the White was tossed across the room as if he weighed nothing at all. Slamming hard into the opposite wall, this one lined with bookshelves. The rain of items and heavy tomes clattered down around him as the wizard blinked rapidly, trying to find his balance both mental and physical. What had just happened?

Elladan struggled to his feet, breath rushing in to fill his starving lungs, spots before his eyes. He had a stunned moment to realize that Kuilaith was the one glowing. A light so bright it left him gasping and having to shield his eyes. Then as quickly as it had arrived, the light faded back from wherever it had come and the lad collapsed. As much as he wanted to rush to him though, there was still a wizard to deal with. It tore something deep within him to turn toward the danger, and not where his heart lay on the floor. If he ever doubted himself to be incapable of loving again then this moment put an end to it. With that thought he threw himself into the fray, determined to protect his son.

He wasn't fast enough as Elrond struck first. Thorin's sword flashed but a second behind.

Both were knocked back as Saruman gestured. Elladan drew his own weapon even as he tried once more to call for reinforcements, but whatever the wizard had done to keep such from happening was still firmly in place.

The four danced, pressing and attacking. Elladan and Thorin seemed nothing more than irritating distractions to the wizard, but Elrond was fighting hard as well and with every blow the elf was advancing. Saruman slowly retreated, and while it was a large room, it wasn't infinite. The White was nearly cornered, figuratively and literally, when dark light surrounded him forming an evil halo about the male as he laughed.

Elrond paused, throwing more power at Saruman, but this time the wizard seemed not to feel the blow at all.

"Sauron." Thorin spat blood, gritting his teeth as he made a guess he hoped would be proven wrong.

"Whether you mean to assist or simply stand aside, I believe the Deceiver has other plans for you." Elrond warned. "You are his servant."

Saruman laughed at the elf lord, dark energies gathering around his hands in an ominous display. "Who to kill first?" He glanced at each one in turn, then smirked as he nodded at the fallen Kili. "If I can't take him with me, he serves no further purpose."

Elladan had barely enough time to step in front of his too still child, taking the brunt of the blast. He collapsed without a sound right where he'd been standing.

Saruman drew back, ready to strike again when the wall behind him simply fell. Exploding in toward them all, books and stone and rubble spraying them indiscriminately.

The White Wizard turned, finding himself facing an outraged Lady of Light.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Gandalf felt dizzy without warning, nearly falling off his rock perch. Radagast batted at the air in front of his face as if surrounded by stinging bugs.

Dwalin scowled. "What?"

Glorfindel shook his head, then blanched as the Lady called for him in a mental roar. "The Wizard has betrayed us." He threw out the words as he ran toward their mounts.

"No. No, no, no." Gandalf mourned even as he fairly flew back to his own horse. His pipe fell from numb fingers, forgotten on the snowy rocks.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kuilaith moaned. Perhaps the sweetest sound to ever reach Thorin's ears as he cradled his sister-son. At the Lady's arrival he'd grabbed the prince and hauled him out of the immediate battle zone. He'd then gone back to retrieve what he hoped would not be a lifeless body.

Ori leaned in, his eyes on the blood dripping from a gash above one ear of the king. "He lives?" He swallowed hard, looking to see if Elladan's chest rose and fell.

"Grab a detail, Ori. Take these two to Nuluin."

Ori nodded as droves of dwarrow all raced toward them, weapons drawn, brought in by the cacophony sound of a battle being waged. "Not Oin?"

Thorin shook his head. "These wounds were wizard caused."

Ori looked up at the door to the king's study. It hung from a thin column of stone left standing while the walls crumbled under the onslaught. Heavy stones careened around what was left of the room. Lights flashed. Power weighed heavily upon the air, tinging the area with the acrid smell of unknown things burning.

Elrohir rushed into the area, his eyes wide, his sword unsheathed. He moaned as he caught sight of his brother and nephew.

Thorin gestured for the dwarves to stay out of the way, not to run into the battle. He looked up at Elrohir as the elf approached. "Do I send them in?"

The elf lord shook his head as he gave himself a second to survey what could be seen of the battle. "Not yet. Father and the Lady are still fighting with him." He spat out the last word, unwilling to call the wizard by name.

Even as they spoke a wind rushed by them and Thorin looked up in time to see Celeborn's back as that redoubtable elf rushed into the melee.

"He needs a healer." Elrohir looked down at his nephew, unable to touch the lad's mind with his own. "And I need to fight."

Thorin grunted, not pointing out that the elf lord wasn't on par with his sire and grandmother. He too felt the need to pummel the wizard. He whistled, finding Gloin and Bifur at his side in an instant. "We're going back in."

They both nodded without hesitation. Ori gestured to several dwarves to assist in removing the injured. Elrohir grabbed his shoulder without warning. "Do not leave them, they may as yet be targets." He did not mention how much these two meant to him, it was understood.

The king reluctantly relinquished Kili's weight to another as he stood. Gripping his sword he looked at those around him, they all nodded back. His chest swelled with pride.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman watched dispassionately as more joined the battle. He smiled, untouched by those arrayed against him.

"You cannot win this fight." Galadriel's voice was dipped in power and rage, nearly a weapon in itself. She glowed blue and ethereal, her ring like a living star upon her finger.

Thorin paled as he realized he wasn't sure her feet were even touching the ground. The hem of her gown kept him from seeing clear, but realistically speaking, he didn't think she was standing on her toes and thus, she was floating. Maybe.

"No. You cannot win this fight."

The voice was not that of Saruman, or not entirely at least. The dark tones and low pitch reverberated throughout what was left of the room. All winced and Thorin fought not to cover his ears like a dwarfling.

"You think to stand against me?" Mocked the voice of Sauron through the means of Saruman the White. "Who will you sacrifice to defeat me?"

Galadriel hissed. "No one."

"Oh?" The voice laughed, drawing shudders from all who had ears to hear. "Then who will you save?"

With that Saruman waved an arm in a giant sweeping arc. Thorin had a moment to wonder, and then the mountain began to shake. His eyes widened with terrified alarm. Did the Deceiver think to crush them all, including his own servant?"

Frightened murmurs ran through the collected dwarven warriors, but none cried out or broke rank. They stood their ground, ready for whatever came their way.

The mountain gave rise with a horrid voice of stone breaking, feeling the pressure pressing on it, beginning to collapse.

Galadriel yelled as Saruman laughed. "Stop me, or save them. Simple."

Thorin didn't have to wonder what the wizard meant as he swept an arm and sent his dwarven warriors tumbling in every direction. Leaving the way clear for him to walk out of the room, and indeed, Erebor.

He turned, flicking his gaze upon those gathered there. Smiling he snapped his fingers and in response the stones above them began raining down.

"No!"

The king turned, paling as he saw Galadriel gasping for air, sweat upon her furrowed brow. She was under intense pressure as she fought …what? Erebor itself?

Celeborn groaned and a thrown glance at Elrond showed that the leader from Rivendell was in the same circumstances.

Elrohir bit out a vile oath, knowing he could not stop Saruman on his own, but willing to try.

"No!" Elrond barked, putting force behind his strained voice. "Find a way to undo the spells Sauron wove, or get everyone out from under the mountain!

"Listen to your elder." Saruman mocked from outside the remains of the room, his presence still oppressive. "How much weight can you hold?"

Thorin gritted his teeth, hating this one more than he'd ever hated Smaug. The Dragon had been evil, but had been following his natural instincts at least. Saruman was a traitor to all life. "You will fail!"

"Who are you?" Sauron's voice continued through the mouth of his servant. "A king? Of a pile of rocks?" The wizard reached up with both hands as if to grab something that no one could see. With a shout he gave a mighty pull.

Erebor fell around them all.

o.o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are alternative titles to this chapter:
> 
> 1\. In which the author apologizes
> 
> 2\. In which readers should hold on tight to the knowledge there is no major character death
> 
> 3\. In which the next chapter is coming as fast as the author can write!


	50. In which a song is heard

"Is it another dragon?" The tremulous voice next to him matched the sinking feeling in the pit of King Bard's stomach. For a second, panic fought an inner war within him as his mind tried to arrange what he knew into a semblance of order.

Keen eyes scanned the horizon, listened to the wind, and sniffed the air. "No." Panic lost as the human leader swallowed with difficulty due to his dry mouth. "No." He reasserted. "There is no dragon sign." He hoped.

Anxious hands clutched his sleeve and Bard turned to look into the pale, sweaty face of the widow he'd hired to help take care of his family. Not that Sigrid needed help, but that the woman would have starved or frozen to death without assistance this winter.

A slight stir drew the king's attention, finding the dark eyes of his son. He nodded at Bain. "Sound the call to arms." He sounded far more sure than he felt. He wondered if that was true of other leaders as well.

Bain straightened immediately, hurrying out of the room to obey his father and king. The lad was strong, and would follow him. Into what though? Bard sighed, being a monarch was new. Worrying about his children wasn't.

His housekeeper, Brigit, obviously near tears was shaking her head at him. "We've only just finished the basic rebuilding! We can't pull everyone away to go traipsing off. The work crews are overloaded as it is! You've said it yourself!"

"It may not be a dragon." King Bard nodded, as if to himself. "But there is something wrong. I made promises." He turned to look back at the Lonely Mountain, frowning in remembrance of the ground trembling beneath him. He sighed, hoping he was right and it really wasn't another dragon.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"The spiders nest anew, replenishing their numbers." The elven warrior said, no worry leaking into his bland voice as he made his report.

Thranduil's fingers twitched. This new captain of his Guard was careful to keep any hint of his private thoughts away from his monarch. Unlike a certain red-headed Silvan elf. She would have been chomping at the bit to slay them all, and track them down to their source. Impatient with her king's caution. It surprised him how much he missed her slight rebellions.

Spiders. Where hence had they begun? Was it Mordor? The Necromancer's shadow. Thranduil frowned very slightly, could he really deny that his refusal to pursue the spiders past his meager borders was actually giving aid to the orcs and other creatures creeping into the Mirkwood? Just when had even he stopped calling his realm the Greatwood? The boundaries of his kingdom had shrunk enough, the elven king decided. He opened his mouth to order his newest captain to mount up, they were going hunting. Only he never got the words out.

The mental shout was dimmed by distance and the effort the Lady must have made to call all the way from Erebor shocked him. Thranduil's eyes widened as he tried to assimilate the message that must have cost her dear to send.

The elven warrior, blond hair perfect and his voice polite, stammered. "Sir?"

He hadn't heard. Thranduil lifted his chin, had the message come to him alone of all the Mirkwood? Most likely. The thought of ignoring the call was unworthy, but it did occur to him. Briefly. A perversity his thoughts had become. The elven king sneered, mostly at himself. "Gather everyone, we ride for Erebor."

Badly startled, the newest guard captain, hesitated until his king's sharp eyed gaze settled on him. Obviously he didn't understand the connection between his report on the spiders and the need to ride to the Lonely Mountain.

"Go!" Snapped Thranduil, before he could change his mind.

The blond captain bowed and ran to obey.

Thranduil spun, his robes swirling around him as he stalked to his own chambers to dress for ….battle? A rescue operation? A burial detail? What would he find at Erebor?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Crown Prince Fili shook his head as he inspected the mouth of the shaft, sniffing the stale air. "The ventilation is damaged here."

"Aye. One of the reasons it's low on our priority list to reopen." Bofur acknowledged. "There is a lot of work to be done down here to make the mining safe."

Padek, the dwarrow smithy with them, turned his head and spat to the side, shrugging. "The vein here is viable. Good quality."

The hatted miner frowned unhappily. "Water damage, unstable support, and ventilation in need of repair. I don't care how many of 'em wrong-sized spikes ye made, this is not a goodly use of our labor and time."

The walls shook and the mountain groaned, startling them all. Dwarves usually had an incredible sense of the stone around them. Knowing when it was under too much pressure. There had been no sign of that on their way down to this abandoned part of Erebor.

Fili and the others threw wild glances around themselves, gauging the danger as only dwarrow could. The prince himself was not an experienced miner, his concerned gaze was thrown at Bofur first.

The dwarrow was scanning the supports with an anxiety that did nothing to reassure Fili. "You said that those were unstable." The prince reminded his friend.

Padek whistled and took off down the passageway, with Bofur only a step or two behind. The hatted dwarf shared look with his prince, and that was all it took for Fili to speed after the departing miners as they headed to the main mouth of mining operations. Where they'd been supposed to be in the first place. Where people would be looking for them. Not out here.

They couldn't even see the light from the other workers, so far afield were they. Fili gritted his teeth, ruthlessly pushing aside all thoughts of his father, Nehili, and how he'd died in a mining accident.

Gravel, small debris, and even some larger stones pelted them from above.

Bofur stopped suddenly, looking around at the excavated tunnel wildly. Fili grabbed his arm. "Go! Keep on!"

"Too far, too far!" The hatted dwarf looked fiercely determined as he ran his hands over a few of the supports. Finally he grunted and grabbed the prince's coat, dragging him to one side as the air filled with more dust, hurting their visibility. "Here!"

"What's here?" Fili shouted, even as Padek shook his head at them, gesturing for them to keep running.

"We're not going to get there." Bofur shouted after the smithy. "This isn't some small cave-in, something more is going on!"

"Earth movers?" Fili asked, though he'd thought the hunting crews had rid them of the pests.

Bofur shook his head, his hand braced against raw stone. He pressed his lips together and shook his head again with more emphasis. "I don't know!"

Fili looked back and forth between the two dwarves, both highly experienced miners. He hunched his shoulders as the mountain gave another rock-on-rock squeal of protest. More debris fell around them, one shard scraping the side of his face sharply enough to sting badly.

Padek gestured for the prince to keep running. Bofur's hand on his coat was telling him to stay put. That was the way out. Here? This was in the middle of some sort of collapse.

It didn't even take him a full second to come to a decision.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel had a moment of confusion, merely the blink of an eye, an awareness simply came into being. Without question, she looked down and hissed, lifting up the chain Kili had crafted for her. The one holding the signal stone, now glowing green, indicating danger.

Erelinde's blue eyes widened as she caught her breath, she'd been at that terrible dinner the evening someone had tried to poison the entirety of the high table. She understood the significance of that pretty glow only too well.

"What kind of stone is that?" The Lady Dis asked, being completely unfamiliar. She'd not given much thought to the she-elf's choice of jewelry other than to note the elf wasn't over-fond of self-decoration. Not dripping with jewels and the like.

The red-head stood, immediately on alert looking around the area, but seeing nothing. Erelinde was also looking around, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a worrisome move.

"What?" Dis stood as well, recognizing a change in her companion's behaviors from silent resentment to tense watchfulness. Her musings on what jewelry elves liked to wear dissipating as she realized something more was going on. "Whatever is the matter?"

"Brunere!" Erelinde called, gesturing across the wide expanse of the area to her friend. She made a quick hand signal and pointed toward Tauriel.

The violet-eyed dwarrowdam let her conversation wane with the dwarves who were taking notes on repairs needed to the Ozinafkhur. She seemed vaguely concerned, but shook her head as if to indicate she didn't understand the need for alarm.

"What is going on?" Dis demanded, her voice a bit stern in response to the tension she was sensing.

Erelinde gasped, spinning as she pointed at Tauriel's warning stone. "Is it reacting to danger to us? Or even though he gave it to you, is it reacting to a danger to him?"

Tauriel's green eyes flashed with temper and annoyance that she had not considered that. Without a word she took off down the hallway back toward the main portions of Erebor. Her heart beat sped up, whispering his name in her ear with every step. Kili.

Erelinde knew she'd not be able to catch up to the running elf lass, but gestured for Dis to follow and ran over toward Brunere.

The ground moved beneath her feet. Ominously small debris and a lot of dust rained down on them all. Everyone froze.

Startled, Dis gasped, looking up as the mountain seemed to begin vibrating and small rocks became larger ones, about the size of her fist. She glanced toward the other dwarrowdams, and then over at Tauriel who had stopped and was looking up with an expression of real fright.

Responding to the danger and the fear, ignoring personal distaste, Dis shouted for everyone to move into one of the small side rooms. Those were better reinforced, safe havens. She ran toward Tauriel, yelling for the she-elf to join them just as part of the entrance way gave beneath the tremendous weight of the mountain.

A large slab broke free, dangling for a simple second before gravity decided it would not be denied. It broke further into three pieces.

Tauriel jumped clear with nimble ease, but her footing slipped on the debris beneath her boots. She fell with a sickening thudding sound that was her head against stone.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Ori had never worked the mines, but he'd lived near them his whole life. He knew the sounds, smells, and feel of imminent collapse. Once the first shake of the floor beneath his feet and the noise of stone on stone tearing apart reached his ears, he stopped.

Quickly he gauged where they were, how far they had to go, and whether or not they'd be able to make it.

They were not in a narrow passageway, but on stone steps leading upwards. Without railings. Ornate and sturdy. Yet vulnerable to falling rock or breaking stone.

"Up!" He screeched to the dwarven detail following him with two make-shift pallets. One for Kili and the other for the prince's father, Elladan.

Distressingly vacant brown eyes blinked at him, but Ori found no relief that Kili was starting to come around. He took off at a run, as the dwarrow behind him followed apace.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Cirdan peered into the mist toward their destination, though the mountain was hidden from view by the weather. He sensed a large storm building, but knew they would arrive before the worst struck. His weather sense had never failed him. Yet. There was an uneasiness in him that hadn't been there but an hour before. What was he doing here? So far from the Gray Havens and the sea? He'd been so sure when starting on this journey, but now he felt as if on unstable ground. Why?

"My lord?"

The silver-haired and neatly bearded elf did not need to look behind him to see his herald bow. A habit that Cirdan had not been able to break the elf of, despite having served him since …oh, the end of the second age?

It was all about balance. His focus sharpened, finding …nothing.

"Some water or bread to replenish yourself?"

Irritated with himself suddenly, the Shipwright turned to accept, only, there was movement in the mist. His eyes followed the shifting shapes, as did his mind. The forms he saw were formed of air and water droplets, miniscule and not really there. Vague, yet also portentous.

The balance was upset? Yes. A sensation of falling, then a distant call. Galadriel? Yes, it was she reaching toward him in a frantic way that was quite unlike her. Such a lovely child. Proud and strong, perhaps too much so. Yet Cirdan was most fond of her.

Her message formed within his mind, short and alarming. Cirdan blinked, then turned so as to catch the mist-shapes from the corner of his eyes. Sometimes that was the best way to see such things as this. He sighed heavily with disappointment.

"I can fetch juice if you would prefer, my lord."

"White becomes Black. Gray will fall to rise. Brown will be forged in sorrow. Blue remains hidden."

The elf herald stilled, hearing the nearly sing-song voice of his master who was lost in a seeing. He knew the signs and wondered at the message.

We press on without rest." Cirdan strode toward his horse, showing none of his great age. For of those left upon Arda, he was perhaps the most ancient. Only Bombadil and some of the Ents were true contemporaries of his. Yes, as he stepped lithely into his saddle, taking up his reins with authority, he looked like any other young male elf. Except for the beard. "Come."

The herald to the Shipwright sighed, knowing he would get no explanation before Cirdan was ready to offer one. He muttered once under his breath and then hurried to rally the others back onto their own mounts. When he looked up, his master was already at the edge of the clearing.

Pausing, the elf frowned, that was too fast a pace for their cargo and laden pack animals.

_"Leave a guard, bring all others."_

The message just appeared in his mind and the herald bowed, though his master was too far away to see the gesture. Merely trusting that all would be carried out as he ordered.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Cursing will not make these blasted mounts move any faster!" Gandalf shouted, his head bent low over the straining neck of his horse. He kept one hand clamped down tightly over his head, pinning his hat to his skull to keep from losing it entirely.

Glorfindel gave no cause to think he'd heard the mild rebuke, a stream of vicious language trailing behind him like a verbal cloak.

Dwalin did hear, but ignored the wizard, having all he could manage to cling to the galloping horse whilst not falling off. He ground his teeth together, worried about what he'd find when they got to Erebor. Saruman was a traitor?

The pragmatic part of the dwarf cast judging eyes on both the wizards riding with him. He dismissed Gandalf out of hand. That wizard could have found more than enough occasions to rid himself and Arda of a troublesome Company of dwarves. No, he was no traitor. Radagast? He would never have thought such. The Brown Wizard was a strange one, but no lover of the darkness that was Sauron. Still. As cold and strange as he'd considered the White Wizard, he'd never suspected the fellow to be in the thrall of Mordor.

But. If Saruman could be turned, to whom else should they turn a suspicious eye?

"We will be too late!" Gandalf shouted.

Dwalin added his own curses to that of the oblivious Glorfindel, a tumble of nasty verbiage left behind in their wake.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin's vision cleared as he shook his head, or at least partially. The air was contaminated with dust and debris, and swatting at it made breathing no easier. But if his lungs were feeling the labor of breathing, then he still lived. Which meant they'd not yet been crushed. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to see through the vision clouding fragments and clouds of dust.

Saruman, and more importantly, the Deceiver which rode the wizard like a puppet mount, were gone. Which was both good and bad.

The stone surrounding him groaned loudly, sharp snaps and breaks echoed through the area indicating that the mountain still wanted to come down upon their heads. He smiled grimly. That wizard wasn't as powerful as he'd thought himself. "Erebor stands."

"Gandalf comes." The words sounded strained as Elrond's face was already a mottled red, while his body shook under the weight of a mountain.

"Not soon enough." Celeborn choked, nearly on his knees with some unseen strain.

Thorin looked at the three elves, judging their strength. Powerful as these three undoubtedly were, they were not proof against the weight of the Lonely Mountain. The king hesitated a moment, but felt he was left with few options. He walked over to the nearest unbroken wall, stretching out his hand and placing the palm flat against the surface. Thorin then 'listened' to the mountain, the rock, the stone, the very heart of his kingdom. "Something fights to bring it down."

"A spell." Elrond agreed, the strain in his voice indicating that whatever magics were at work, they were powerful ones.

"Can Gandalf reverse Saruman's work?" Gloin asked, speaking up even as Bifur made room for Dain. The Iron Hills leader arrived with his great axe in hand, ready to battle but finding no tangible foe. The dwarven leader's hands were white knuckled on his weapon as he searched for the source of the danger.

"No." Galadriel's voice sounded more strained than spooky, yet shivers ran down Thorin's spine as she spoke. "The mountain will need to be evacuated."

"I can't hold much longer." Celeborn admitted with a groan just as Elrond dropped to one knee in an effort to better brace himself. "Get your people out."

And leave the elves to perish? Thorin eyed them, then turned a speculative gaze toward the stone he was still touching. He slid his gaze next to Dain.

The Iron Hills leader shook his head negatively. "We will save as many as we can." He said, though his voice held the note of a question unasked.

"Or all." Thorin leaned his weight onto his hand.

Dain hissed, clearly undecided on the matter. He looked at the elves sourly, then thought of Hinnin. A friend. An elf friend. Was that one an aberration among his kind, or no, Kili was part elf as well. Laughing Kili, resolute and strong and proud and not like elves. Or was he? "I will stand with you."

"Why do you hesitate, evacuate!" Elrond roared.

Thorin sighed, nodded to Dain, and then he began fighting back. He sang.

The king's rich voice seemed low on volume at first, but as he continued so too did the power of his song.

Galadriel heard and started to protest, but before she could, Dain started singing as well. Gloin followed but an instant behind. The song spread among the gathered dwarves. Rising baritone and bass voices with some sprinkling of tenors rumbled through the area as each dwarf moved to find a bare bit of stone still connected to the mountain. Even Bifur placed his naked palm on rock, though his words were garbled and few.

"What?" Elrond grimaced, his muscles quivering with fatigue. Yet, something in this song pulled at his awareness.

Galadriel felt the change immediately. The mountain was listening. Oh, not in a living sense, but …she could feel the stone forming a connection with the dwarves. A tentative one, a fragile one, but it formed a bond and halted the encroachment of Saruman's last magics.

Sound rose around them as more and more voices joined the King Under the Mountain.

The Lady knew some Khuzdul, having met and worked with several of the Durins over the many years of her life. But this was beyond her understanding. This was ancient and private and she knew without being told that no one other than a Dwarf had ever heard this song. It wasn't for her ears.

"Do not listen, do not intrude." Galadriel told her husband as well as her daughter's husband.

Elrond regained his feet, standing as the pressure lessened. Not gone, but … "The spell lifts?"

"The stone fights back." Galadriel managed a weakened smile even as whatever Saruman had done pushed forward once more, as if seeking weak spots within the stone itself.

More cracks and sounds of falling debris, but the grinding stone on stone sound was easing. Just a little, but it gave the elves room to breathe and regather their tattered strength.

Thorin ignored them, focusing on Erebor. The rest of Arda didn't know, didn't care, would never conceive of such a thing. Elves could hear trees? Bah. Dwarves knew stone. They were once stone, and would be again. Most just believed that dwarrow had a good stone sense. Lucky in mining. But it was more than that.

The mountain had not felt the hand nor heard the voice of dwarves in too long. It did not accept readily the will of the king.

Thorin had held off reconnecting to the mountain in this manner, not while visitors resided here. He should not have let the presence of outsiders stop him. He frowned deeply, letting his voice rise as the heat of his hand touched the stone, warming it.

Thorin's voice rose and fell, and Erebor heard. He claimed the mountain, and the mountain finally began to slowly recognize his presence.

Stone wasn't just part of their history. It was entwined with their very beings. Saruman, and Sauron, didn't know that. Not really. And that was why the wizard and his master would lose.

Thorin's expression turned into a grim smile as he felt the wizard's influence shrink and pull away as the stone itself began to reject the evil shadow.

Dwarves didn't live in their mines for convenience. This was their home. Their place. This is where they could hear the stone and connect with it in a way that no other race could ever understand.

This was why dwarves weren't meant for nomadic lives. This is why they lived surrounded by rock and earth and stone. Every day they touched the substance from which they themselves were created. Each generation of dwarrow left their mark upon the stone, reinforcing the magic peculiar to their race. Smaug may have taken the mountain, but the stone had never been more to the dragon than a place, empty and cold.

Not for the dwarves. It was more than just reclaiming land or property, or even treasure. It was more than pride that had them striving to come home. It was for the mountain itself.

They sang, and the stone heard.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"This isn't normal, it ain't right." Bofur turned his head, spitting out grime and dust that had collected in his mouth.

Fili, having chosen to stay with the hatted dwarf, nodded. They had a single oil lantern, and a few feet of ground. The rest was rock. Cave-in. "Padek?"

Bofur shook his head to indicate he didn't know. "He could wait." Meaning the dwarrow was most likely crushed. "I doubt he was fast enough to gain the main cross-tunnel, and with no guarantee that it didn't collapse as well."

Fili deliberately nodded slowly, keeping an iron will on his fear. His father had died in a mining cave-in.

"Don't think of your da." Bofur said quietly.

The blond laughed without humor. "You can read minds now?"

"Don't have to." Bofur shook his head sadly. "He was on my mind as well." He paused a moment, then sighed. "I was a fresh apprentice miner back then. Knew your father."

Fili slid his eyes over to the other dwarrow, even though he was having a tough time seeing clearly with all the still floating dust. "I haven't sung about my father in too long." He said sadly.

"Well'n don't start now!" Bofur gave a hearty smile that was meant to bolster the young prince's mood. "We can do that when we're out of this particular pickle."

"Mam let me give him up."

Startled slightly, Bofur nodded. "Is that what you're all up in arms about lad?"

"Part of it." Fili admitted, standing. He looked up at the darkness over them. There was a gaping hole where the ceiling used to be, and the rock and stones that had been up there were collected all around them. He eyed the supports. "They don't look weakened to me."

Bofur snorted. "Found the best one I could." He admitted, then shook his head. "Told the mining shift supervisor where we'd be."

Fili nodded thoughtfully. "If he survived, he'll point rescue this way."

If. Bofur nodded carefully. "I have a water pouch on me."

"I as well, about half full." Fili admitted ruefully.

Bofur suddenly jerked his head up as if listening. "Someone sings."

Fili frowned, touching a cracked rock right by his side. He was chagrinned to find blood on the stone face and wondered if it was his. He touched the side of his face, finding his cheek wet and stinging. "We don't have a connection here."

Bofur hummed slightly, then shrugged. "No. I've never resided here nor have you. If we sang to the connection, the mountain would never hear us." He pointed upwards. "But Thorin and some of the others, they did used to live here. Their voices would be imprinted on the mountain, and it may have been a long time ago, but stone never forgets."

"There are so few who used to live here though." Fili tried hard not to sound worried.

Bofur grinned, his teeth flashing against the grimy appearance of his dirty face. "We have something though."

"What?" Fili's eyes widened as the hatted dwarf poked his finger right in his direction. "Me? I'm no miner and as you said, have never lived here."

"Durin's Blood." Bofur clapped his hand on the younger dwarf's shoulder. "Yer of Durin's direct blood. Sing laddie, and I'll just suffer through as you have a barely tolerable voice."

Fili shoved the other dwarf's hand off of him with a sharp laugh. He put his hand against a rock and would have started singing if Bofur hadn't clucked his tongue at him. "What?"

"Broken rock, won't work." The more experienced miner tugged the prince over to a sliver of the wall between a support and a boulder that had crashed down. "There."

Fili touched the stone, worried that this might not work. He was no miner. He licked his dry lips. "Do you think the cave-in is isolated?"

"Don't be thinking on that, not now." Bofur said in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "I'm sure everyone else is safe."

Fili grunted, thinking about everyone he loved. Slowly, from deep memory, he began singing to the mountain.

The stone remained cold beneath his touch. Fili let the song continue, though his stomach turned over. How was he going to explain to Bofur that he wasn't enough? That Erebor was refusing to ….a pulse. Fili's voice stalled and the feeling left. He began to sing once more, barely daring to believe and just when he thought he'd imagined it, the small quiver of …something. On the edge of his senses.

Fili pressed harder against the stone, letting his voice rise in song.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"We need to be seeking a way out." Tauriel batted at Erelinde's hands, which made her head move, which caused blood to drip back into her eyes.

"Still. Stay still." Brunere caught the she-elf's shoulder as she stood over her patient.

Dis was over to the side, conferring with the three dwarrow who had also made a dash for the reinforced room.

"Clean out the wound carefully." Brunere told Erelinde, who was acting as her hands. The violet eyed healer had been holding open the door for Dis and Tauriel when something large had struck, breaking several of the small bones in her dominant hand. Luckily none of the bones had pierced the skin and she'd merely wrapped it for the time being.

But Tauriel's left eye socket was a mess of torn flesh and bruising. The eye itself was luckily intact, though Brunere wanted Oin or Nuluin to look at it. And she had no doubt they would, she just wasn't sure when.

"It's like a puzzle." Erelinde complained quietly, even as she concentrated on following the healer's instructions.

"It will have to be stitched." Brunere said quietly.

Tauriel started to nod, then flinched at the sting and endured a sharp frown from Erelinde along with an admonition to be still.

Dis walked up to them, silently watching the two dams and one elf lass, who all stopped speaking as she approached. Brunere bobbed her head in acknowledgement of the princess, but Erelinde simply focused on the task at hand.

"I owe you my life." Tauriel said evenly, letting none of her feelings leak into her voice.

The princess nodded, a slight frown on her face. "As my family owes you for several lives, it would have been a poor thing to leave you out there." Silence fell over the group and finally Dis sighed. "I don't hate you, nor wish you dead."

"Only not betrothed to Prince Kili?" Tauriel spoke quietly, trying not to move her head as Erelinde cleaned her wound most carefully.

Dis sat down, watching the other females. "I would wish him wed to a dwarrowdam, true. I'm his mother, I just want what's best for him."

The red-head winced as Erelinde probed a very sensitive place near her eye. "Sorry."

"I am going to stitch this." The white-blonde dam said firmly.

Dis shook her head, pointing at Brunere's injured hand. "We should wait until we are rescued. The healers should do the job."

"She will scar if we leave it too long." Erelinde said firmly. "And I may not be a healer, but I am damnably good at stitching."

A small chuckle came from Dis as the princess shook her head. "You do have a spine in you after all."

"How bad is it?" Brunere asked, shifting her eyes to the dwarrow who were checking the walls of the small room.

Dis nodded and sighed. "Bad enough. The rooms in here have extra supports in case of cave-in."

"There is no active mining near here." Erelinde commented, though her attention was solely upon the supplies she was cleaning fastidiously.

The princess nodded, she was aware of that. "Something up top has gone wrong. This area is stable, has been for centuries and multiple generations."

Erelinde was pale, but her hands were rock steady as she placed needle to skin. "Don't move."

Tauriel caught her breath, but the crafter was gentle with her. Yet she was also meticulous it seemed, taking her time with each minute stitch.

Brunere and Dis watched quietly, not wanting to interrupt the process. When the work was done, Dis got up and inspected the work. "Very even, that will heal well."

"I don't want her scarred at her wedding." Erelinde said, still not looking at the princess.

Dis sighed and walked back to her seat. "So. She has the dwarrowdam seal of approval?"

Tauriel visibly startled and Brunere laughed. "She's joking, there is no such thing."

The she-elf made a hand sign and this time it was Dis who was surprised. The signal had meant that the butt of the joke took no offense.

One of the dwarrow came up to the dams, bowing to the princess. "Pardon, but there is a way though, but it is back to the main Ozinafkhur and not to the main hub."

Dis hissed at the Khuzdul word being used in front of the she-elf. But the dwarrow simply shrugged. "She's betrothed. Besides, we have more pressing issues. The pools are broken and there is some flooding."

All the females looked up at that announcement.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"The weight lifts." Celeborn said, relief stark in his voice. He stood, sweating heavily and yet breathing easier than he had but moments ago.

Thorin kept singing, but Dain lifted his head, pulling back. He watched the elves almost jealously, perhaps because they were witness to what they shouldn't be. "We have our own magic." He said pugnaciously.

Galadriel bowed her head deferentially. "I have never conceived of such in my thoughts, this is beyond my understanding."

Dain nodded slowly, as if afraid to trust the she-elf. "Saruman?"

"Against us." Elrond nearly spat out the words so bitter were his feelings. "Erebor?"

Dain looked at Thorin, and then overhead, as if listening to something the elves could not hear nor fathom. "The mountain will stand, it will take a lot of effort and time. We will have lost many."

"And saved far more." Galadriel said with sympathy in her usually melodic voice.

Dain refused to think about who might be gone. If Calbrinia's face formed in his mind's eye, he ignored it. Now was not the time to dwell. "We go after the wizard?" He spun his axe expertly, letting it come to rest in his hands as if ready to attack.

"Erebor is not yet free of Saruman's foul influence." Elrond said. Whatever the song of power the Dwarves were using, it was helping tremendously. Yet he was still fighting to keep the dark spell at bay. He sensed the dwarves would eventually be free of the dark influence, but it would take time. "Nor are we strong enough to take him, not with Sauron manifesting through him like that."

Dain gulped, not having been present earlier during the confrontation with the White Wizard. "Mordor's Master was here? Inside Erebor?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes." Celeborn didn't sound pleased about it either.

Dain shook his head hard enough to clear it, he hoped. "So. We just let the bastard go?"

Galadriel hesitated. "He is of the Maiar, not technically born and thus no bastard."

"Not by birth then by his nature?" Dain said with no little venom in his voice. "Any who would betray all the free peoples and try and bring down a mountain by my personal definition, is a bastard."

"I can allow that." Celeborn surprisingly supported the dwarven assertion. "And Curumo, as Saruman used to be known, was associated with Aule, the Smith. As was Sauron himself."

Dain rose up in a fine fury. "Do you lump the Dwarves in with that? Evil was not created by our Maker!"

"No, no." Galadriel soothed the ruffled feathers as best she could with her attention torn between the mountain and what was before her. "He simply means that Saruman turns his back on the Vala and all he represents, including the foremost creation of the Smith."

"By striking against Erebor and the heart of the dwarrow, Saruman breaks all ties with the Valar. Considering how close he once was with Aule, that is near incomprehensible to think on." Elrond added, with Celeborn nodding.

Dain settled down as one of his lieutenants came rushing in. The poor soul looked between his own leader and the King Under the Mountain. But Thorin was still focused on releasing Erebor of Saruman's taint and efforts to bring down the kingdom.

"Say all." Dain commanded, giving leave for everyone present to hear any news that might be forthcoming.

"Collapses everywhere. Many, many trapped." The lieutenant stammered. "But sentries say they see movement heading our way."

"Dale?" Dain asked, his heavy brows beetling in thought.

"Wrong direction." The dwarrow messenger shook his head. "Possibly elves of the Mirkwood, but they would have had to have left before the attack."

"Goblins. Orcs." Dain rejected the idea the elves were already arriving, if they came at all. He spat with disgust, gripping his axe heavily. "Saruman might have planned on them wiping out anyone evacuating the mountain. We shall ready ourselves!"

"Beg pardon, but with whom?" The lieutenant shifted his weight from side to side. "Every free hand is working to free the trapped. The healers are cut off, stairways are down and crumbled in many places. We don't have enough hands!"

Dain scowled, looking toward Thorin's back. The king, who had been listening, paused in his singing. Immediately the metaphysical weight of an entire mountain redoubled on the gathered elves. "Block the way. Make ready for a battle. If the goblins make it inside, then those that are trapped will be even worse off. They will have to hold out a bit longer. Find Fili, have him lead the rescue while Dain holds off any enemies."

"Sire? The crown prince was in the Tigett shaft last anyone knew." The lieutenant's voice was full of hesitation and sorrow.

Thorin's ears started to ring. "Tell me." He commanded hoarsely.

"It flattened in the initial tremors, sire. They wait. They all wait."

Thorin heard, but could not believe. Not his golden lion. Not Fili. Not in the Halls of the Waiting, before him. "Where is Kili?" He asked hoarsely.

"With the healers." Gloin supplied in a low voice full of grief. "You sent him yourself."

"Those halls are cut off." The dwarrow messenger reminded them. He didn't say they weren't sure who had gotten through, or had fallen.

Thorin looked to his cousin, Dain. "Shut Erebor to our enemies. Hold fast. I will free the mountain of that which tries to bring it down around our ears. Those trapped, will have to hold tight."

"Sire? The Lady Dis and most of the dwarrowdams are blocked off in the Ozinafkhur." The dwarrow swallowed hard, waiting for a reaction.

Thorin eyed the poor messenger and nodded grimly. He turned his attention back to saving all of Erebor and reconnecting with his mountain. "Dain?"

The leader from the Iron Hills nodded. "Take half of those available, focus on rescuing those in the most need and danger. Ready the others for battle."

Thorin grunted in approval, and worry, beginning the Song of Stone once more.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	51. In which there is waiting

Saruman paused as he saddled his chestnut horse, an excellent stallion of fine bloodlines. He needed to be away. Sauron's presence had left him, alone and near trembling with weariness on the outside of Erebor.

But Gandalf and the others were coming. The wizard sneered. He had nothing to fear from them, but it would not be prudent to pit his already fatigued self against the others. Not right now. Sauron had departed, but had left instructions.

The vile blackness that had overtaken him had left Saruman nearer to true illness than anything else in his long life. Conversely, that strength held a morbid pull for him. Why should he not serve he who was the strongest? Galadriel and the others were fools to think they could stand against such.

But to carry out Sauron's requests, even in the privacy of his own mind the wizard refused to call them demands, he would need to be safely away.

The wizard glanced around the newly repaired stables, though they were barely clean and functional, finding nothing to stand in his way. The three guards were dead. Waiting, as the Dwarves would say. Saruman sneered at the lifeless bodies.

Soon the mountain would be nothing more than a grave marker. The White Wizard turned a sinister sneer onto the kingdom in question, then frowned sharply. He sensed that his spell was not working as it should. Erebor still stood. Something was fighting, holding. Arrogantly he assumed it had to be Galadriel, Celeborn and perhaps even Elrond. Yet, there was nothing familiar about the power that was pushing against his own magics. How had he miscalculated their abilities and strengths?

Would they survive? Would they pursue? Saruman walked his nervous horse out of the stables, mounting quickly. He cast an eye at the entrance to the kingdom, and then back at the stables. Finally he looked in every direction, as if seeking from whence Gandalf and the others would ride.

If the elven leaders had found a way to counteract his last spells, cast in conjunction to Sauron, then the wizard did not want to go back inside to investigate. The more pragmatic course was to depart and follow the Dark Lord's will.

Saruman's horse side-stepped, whinnying with annoyance and temper as if sensing danger. Automatically he yanked ruthlessly back on the reins, unmindful of the horse's sensitive mouth. The wizard took no more care of those which served him than he had for those he'd pretended to care about.

He could not allow pursuit. Too casually for such a loathsome act, Saruman stretched out his staff of power, channeling his magics and some of his remaining strength. The tip touched the stones of the stable walls. Walls that had withstood time, use, and even a dragon. They shook for a moment, then fell with a great rushing crash.

Animal screams of pain and fright heralded the departure of Saruman the White from the kingdom of Erebor.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"It's not working."

Bofur made an encouraging noise in the dim light of the dying lantern. Fili could barely make out the expression on the older dwarrow's face. "You've been singing for only a short time."

Fili drew back, rolling his aching neck and shoulders. "Feels like hours."

"Tis but a short time, not even one hour, not yet." Bofur chided softly. "Stone doesn't do anything fast." He made a shooing motion with his hands.

The blond prince scowled. "I get nothing more than a vague sense of something listening. A small …burst, or pulse now and again. It's not working."

Bofur's hang-dog expression lit up like fireworks in the night sky. "So much? Durin's blood does make all the difference then!"

Startled, Fili stared. "No. No, I remember Thorin telling stories of singing to the stone and the stone singing back! I'm not getting that!" He pointed for emphasis at the crumbled wall of their caved-in prison.

The hatted dwarf steadied himself with a bracingly deep breath, nodding as he tried to rearrange his words in his mind, so many wanting to come out all at the same time. "Laddie. Thorin was RAISED here. He was introduced to Erebor from his birth. Back then it had been generations after generations of dwarrow, singing daily. Touching, carving, and listening. You'n your brother be raised above ground, no?"

Fili nodded grimly, knowing Bofur knew the circumstances of their early lives. A mean cabin that only the very generous would have named as 'snug'. It had only been as he and his brother grew that they'd helped build a larger space. Still above ground. "The older dwarrow had always said that the Ered Luin mines weren't ready for living inside of them, not yet."

Bofur smiled sadly at his companion and prince. "It takes generations of dwarves to build a connection with stone. Stone isn't alive, not like you and I are. We can pour magic in, but it's like upending a cup of ale onto a desert and expecting to build an ocean." The dwarrow paused, obviously trying to come up with a better way of explaining. "Stone is too big, too much. We ….we are like erosion!"

Fili blinked at the delighted look of inspiration on Bofur's face. "Erosion?"

"We keep going, pouring out magic and songs of power into the stone, and eventually ….years later, there is the slightest evidence that we've made a difference." Bofur smiled winningly at him. "You. You are an unknown dwarrow. Not from here, not really. That the mountain even gives you so little as you described, is a major event!"

Fili turned unsure eyes back onto the wall of the mountain. "We don't have years down here, Bofur."

"King Thorin hasn't introduced you nor your brother to Erebor with the old ways. Not sung the songs with you, reinforcing your ties to your inheritance." The hatted dwarf shook his head firmly. "That's no criticism mind you, I understand the whys. Too many outsiders here."

Elves. Wizards. Fili's mouth turned into a scoffing sneer. "These ways are even more private than our language."

Bofur agreed whole-heartedly. "Now. Take a swallow of water and sing, lad. Let the mountain know who you are. No worries if it takes time, stone isn't overly fond of listening." He made a quick fist, with his other hand he whipped off his ever present hat and rapped on his own noggin. "Dwarves are stubborn because stone is stubborn."

Fili gratefully took a single mouthful of water, letting it seep into his tissues rather than swallowing greedily. They had so little and who knew how long it would need to last. He hefted the weight of his water skin uneasily. Thoughtfully he asked a question. "Can I let uncle know that we're alive, though the song?"

"Doubtful." Bofur shook his head as he replaced his hat. "We've only just arrived back at Erebor. Haven't sung the mountain proper, not yet. It'd be like me yelling a message to you, and you standing on the moon. But with luck, maybe someone will notice that there are someones still breathing down this way."

Fili nodded, moving to put his hand once more on the piece of unbroken stone before him. "Well, if I'm trying to get noticed, at least there are others of Durin's blood and maybe they will be paying attention."

Bofur nodded, though he seemed skeptical. "The king be the obvious one."

"Kili." The blond supplied the name of the one dwarrow he was closer to than anyone else in the world.

"Be only part-dwarven, pardon my saying." Bofur spoke hastily, holding up his hands in surrender. "With all that training he's been doing with his father and that she-elf, I don't know if he even remembers how to sing this song."

"He's Dwarven enough." Fili insisted through gritted teeth. "And there's Balin and Dwalin and Gloin and …"

"All relatives yes, but you and your'n be direct blooded, you see?" Bofur said, not without sympathy lacing his voice.

"Dis." Fili bit out the name with some acerbity. Angry he might be at his mother, still it made his skin crawl to think of her in danger or trapped as he was. And the mere thought of Erelinde in trouble was enough to weaken his knees. "Do you think …"

"The dams are fine, they won't be in the deep tunnel shafts like we are." Bofur hastily reassured the younger dwarrow, seeing the worry and correctly guessing the cause. "But they won't be singing."

Fili winced at his own oversight. Of course the dwarrowdams wouldn't be singing the Song of Stone. Only the seven original fathers of their race had been crafted originally from pure stone. It wasn't known how the Maker had gifted the fathers with the first dwarrowdams, but it hadn't been until after the spark of life had been given to the First Ones. Durin especially. "Wouldn't it be better to have all voices lifted right now? Female too?"

Bofur startled visibly, then began to laugh. "I heard that Thorin hadn't been good at giving you and your brother the talk about sex and procreation, but I hadn't realized there would be such a gaping hole in your knowledge."

Fili's hand fell from the stone as he turned wide blue eyes onto the hatted dwarf. "Huh?"

Bofur chuckled and shrugged. "Singing the Song of Stone puts you in touch with that from which we were created. Connects you to our home, but it interferes with our fertility. Returns you to a body of stone."

Blue eyes widened with distress, glancing at the rock he'd just been touching as if it were an orc or mangy warg.

The hatted dwarf slapped his knee, laughing. "I but jest! Sorry, sorry. No, it can return a dwarrow to stone sure enough, but it would take an entire lifetime of singing. Your safe, your lass is safe, any future children are safe."

Fili's fingertips twitched as he raised his hand once more to touch the stone wall. He sent a hesitant look at Bofur and licked his lips. "I could crush your head down here and blame the cave-in. No one would know."

"Ah now laddie." Bofur grinned, not appearing contrite at all. "It's nothing but tradition, not all dwarrow sing and not all dams don't. That's all. Sure'n most of our females don't because of the old tales, but I don't put much stock in that. Seen dam's sing, and still have families."

Nodding, Fili flattened his palm against the coolness of the stone in front of him. He could feel nothing. "You're sure?"

"Ah now laddie, would I mess with the line of succession?"

The blond prince just gave him a dire eyed glare.

Bofur chuckled and shrugged. Slowly Fili began to sing, and this time the sense of something hearing him came more quickly, though it still felt distressingly faint. He smiled and felt that small beat of welcome on the periphery of his senses.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"What are they doing?" Tauriel asked, blinking her eyes in an effort to focus through her massive headache. She shut her right eye, peering through the left, trying to gauge if there was any blurring to her vision.

Dis glanced up, frowning at the paleness of the she-elf. A lack of color that didn't come from the red-head's natural complexion. "You should sit down. Please." She pointed toward a nearby rock, her voice almost seeming gentle.

The she-elf hesitated for a second. "If you keep being kind, you will confuse me. Or is it simply the result of a concussion?" Tauriel said with some dryness.

"It's the concussion." Dis answered with equal dryness in her own words. "I have an ulterior, and quite dire, purpose in making you sit. I just haven't come up with a nefarious enough plan as yet."

The red-head conceded the moment, mostly because her knees did not feel entirely stable. She perched on the fallen rock that normally would have been part of the ceiling. Or wall. She wasn't exactly sure.

Brunere adjusted her injured hand with a small wince, drawing a concerned look from the other females. She caught their regard and shook her head mutely, telling them she was fine.

"You should sit as well." Dis pointed at the violet-eyed dam she hadn't really been introduced to yet. That nicety had been skipped in the rushed moments of the ceiling coming down upon them. "I'm afraid I am not knowing your name, lass."

"Brunere, of the Grimbasher clan." Tauriel made a hand sign denoting friendship. At Dis' gape-jawed stare, she hesitated. "Did I do it wrong?"

Erelinde smiled weakly and demonstrated the difference between finger positions to denote male from female friends. Brunere said something teasing and Tauriel's mouth twitched into a small smile.

Dis watched the three with some amazement. The she-elf was fitting in with the dams in ways that she never would have thought possible. She blinked a few times, her mind racing. No. Just because this Tauriel wasn't exactly horrible did not mean she would make a suitable wife for her Kili. To distract herself from the question of the she-elf, she answered the previously asked question. "They strive to form a barrier to the water, to keep it from reaching us."

Tauriel looked over at the three dwarrow shifting rocks and stones in what looked like a highly structured manner. Which was surprising considering they were using debris and had made no plans on how to build this barrier. The red-head then stretched her neck up, barely wincing at how this pulled on the damaged and swelling skin around her left eye. "The water does not look high, we are not in danger of drowning."

Dis smirked lightly, though not entirely unkindly. "Drowning? No. Cooking? Perhaps." She too cast her gaze over at the water pouring into the broken pool, and out of it onto the floor.

"Cooking?" Tauriel repeated the word, feeling lost.

Dis pointed at two different water flows that used to mingle in the natural stone depression. One was near cut off by a massive block of stone, leaving barely a trickle. "Hot and cold. They mixed to allow a decent bathing temperature. Now they follow different paths and don't blend. Without the cold mountain water, the heated water temperature will exceed what is safe to touch without burns."

Tauriel's eyebrows rose, which caused immediate pain and she sucked in a harsh breath. Her hand started to touch her face, only to be intercepted by a contrite Erelinde who was frowning in sympathy. The she-elf nodded, she knew better than to touch the cleaned wound for fear of creating infection.

"It's been hours." Brunere said, her own face pale beneath her usually golden tan.

Dis nodded, looking toward the passageway toward the main areas of Erebor. There was serious damage leading to the room where they'd originally taken refuge, and beyond that it was blocked entirely.

"The dwarrow say the shaking has stopped, that the stones are …being ….sung." Brunere's voice dropped on the last few words, as if reluctant to bring up something so culturally private, no matter how much she truly liked Tauriel. The last word had been whispered.

Dis sighed, shaking her head. "If the stones are being sung, then it is in the presence of our guests." She tilted her head toward the confused she-elf. "Which means, it's bad."

Brunere held her breath a moment, then blew it out with a nod of her head.

"I don't mean to intrude." Tauriel said, her voice a bit stiff, not sure which culturally sensitive toe she should avoid stepping on in this instance.

Erelinde responded to the perceived hurt in her friend's voice, placing her hand on the red-head's shoulder. "It's more private than Khuzdul. Perhaps after the wedding these things could be shared with you. With the king's permission, I would be honored."

Relenting, Tauriel let some of her tension go as she patted the blonde dam's hand. There were things the elves would not necessarily want to share with outsiders, not matter how well liked. "I can return to the other room, if you need to be speaking on private matters."

Dis smiled sadly at the offer and shook her head. "The immediate danger is past, I think. The mountain stands. What is being done now is more of a reconnection. A healing, to stop what caused the damage in the first place. It can only be done by those who seek to live here. Now we wait to be freed from here."

A creaking sound from overhead drew their immediate attention and concern. But after several silent minutes passed, they started breathing more normally again.

The Lady Dis looked at her companions. Brunere was holding up well, but there were pain lines around her mouth and they had nothing to offer the poor lass to give her ease. Erelinde, lovely as always, was pale and clearly worried. Tauriel. Dis sighed, eying the red-head carefully. The elf-lass was trying hard to hide her discomfort, but she flinched slightly at each creak and groan of stone. She was also clutching that necklace of hers, the one that had glowed earlier.

Dis considered that the she-elf's discomfort should make her happy, but instead she was feeling a bit of shame for dragging them all down here in the first place. Yes, it was traditional for dam's to reside down here, but it wasn't absolute.

Another creaking sound.

As one, each of them looked up at the jagged remains of the tall ceiling which had once been carved, decorated and inlaid with precious metals. Tauriel's fingers traced a smooth, cool surface on the rock upon which she perched. Looking down she saw an intricate mosaic, or what was left of one. There was a dwarf with a large axe and a crown. "One of the Durins?" She asked, desperate to be distracted.

"Nain." Brunere pointed out, seeing what the she-elf was looking at. "The second."

"The one with the bearded ass?" Tauriel asked innocently enough, her fingers twisting in the links of her necklace.

Taken by surprise, each of the dwarrowdams fell into a rough, choking laughter, even Dis.

"Did he really have a bearded ass?" The red-head asked next, wanting to be distracted from the feeling of being trapped.

Brunere shrugged. Erelinde spread her hands to indicate she didn't know either. Dis snorted and then shook her head. "King Nain II. Well, from the stories I heard …and mind you, I was listening in on these stories as a young dwarfling who wasn't supposed to still be up out of bed."

The females all nodded in instant understanding of the sort of male-told stories that weren't shared with polite company.

Dis frowned, peering over at Tauriel for a moment, as if measuring the elf's worry and fear. "This story won't make sense to you, it has to do with dwarrow anatomy and courting traditions."

"Like being of a body of stone?" The she-elf asked curiously, tilting her head slightly to the side.

The princess eyed the red-head balefully for a moment, her nashatal braid catching the light of the lanterns. Dis mumbled a bit before sighing deeply. "Of course you know about bodies of stone." She said with some bitterness, as well as resignation. "Well. Nain II was late in marrying and was forced by his father and counselors to marry without waking up proper."

Tauriel nodded with sudden clarity of understanding. "Ah! Such as the potion the Blacklocks tried to use on the king?"

Dis reared back in both shock and affront. "They did what?" Horrified beyond telling that anyone would so attack her brother, as well as the fact that the she-elf knew about the potion in the first place.

Brunere shook her head. "We'll be down here a while, please finish about Nain and we'll explain the Blacklock fiasco." Dis looked hesitant, so the violet-eyed dam smiled and offered a crumb. "They failed spectacularly."

Satisfied for the moment, Dis nodded, her nerves still ragged though. "So Nain had a wife and legitimate heirs to the throne, but then later he fell in love. He ended up with two separate families. Huge scandal."

Tauriel's eyes were wide. Or at least one was, the other looked near swollen shut. This type of behavior sounded alien to her elven ears.

"The two dams, as you can well imagine, hated each other." Dis continued. Everyone knew where the king's heart lay, and no one could gainsay his right to spend time with his second family. It is said that he adored his children from both dams."

Tauriel looked so shocked she might be in danger of sliding off her rocky seat. Dis chuckled at the reaction, nodding. "Huge scandal."

Erelinde made an impatient sound, her own sky-blue eyes wide. "I've not heard this. Father never mentioned this. In fact I think he'd faint clear away if I ever said 'by Nain's bearded ass'." She frowned in thought. "I would bet good money he doesn't think I even know the words."

"No wonder, it's very shady. My father? Would trounce his brothers, assuming that they'd taught it to me." Brunere sounded near breathless. "Not a proper saying for dwarrowdams, I'm sure." She mimicked her father's gruff voice perfectly.

The Lady Dis nodded, like any other dwarf she felt at ease in story-telling, relishing the rapt attention of her listeners. Even the elf. And if she were honest with herself, not only was it distracting the younger females from their predicament, it was helping her as well.

"Apparently there was a wedding among one of the noble houses. King Nain and his family were invited. Both families actually. I would have hated to be the steward to do the planning on such a journey!" Dis grinned mischievously. "On the trip, there was an attempted raid by goblins." Dis leaned in conspiratorially. "Nain was asleep in his bed at the time. Only it was the wrong bed, not the one with his wedded spouse."

Tauriel stopped breathing, appalled at the thought and yet intrigued by the drama of the situation.

"Nain jumped from his bed, axe in hand and led the charge against the goblins buck naked." Dis sat back, watching with delight the shocked expressions on the other female's faces.

Erelinde blinked rapidly. "So? He had a hairy back-end? And everyone saw it?" She questioned with a ghost of a smile.

Dis shook her head, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. "No."

Brunere and Tauriel shared a look, then turned back to their story teller. Dis shrugged lightly, continuing. "Apparently he'd managed to pull a fur wrap from off the bed of his lover, and he'd wrapped it around his waist. A very shaggy fur."

Erelinde near choked, her hand covering her sudden laughter.

"One of the dwarrowdams who was not a friend of the queen was quite rude. She said something out loud about the king being naked and coming from the wrong part of the caravan at the time of the attack. Wondered, in front of the whole court mind you, just where the king had been in such a state."

"Unkind." Tauriel whispered, the other two dams nodded in agreement.

"Well, the queen came of strong bloodlines herself. She merely lifted her head, raised an eyebrow and said that her husband had obviously been caught on the latrine." Dis grinned widely. "When it was pointed out he had taken a dam's fur wrap the queen only glared. Then she declared Nain wasn't wearing a fur, he simply had a very hairy ass."

Brunere and Erelinde laughed, while Tauriel stared. Finally the she-elf shook her head. "How astonishing. Was that the worst of it though? Snide comments? How did the children get along?"

"Some better than others." The princess admitted with a shrug.

"And now?" Erelinde asked, though not without some hesitation.

Dis nodded thoughtfully, and not a little anticipation. "You tell me. How are Thorin and my sons getting on with Dori and his brothers?"

This shut all the ladies up. Brunere looked pale with shock. "No!"

Nodding, the dwarrowdam princess shrugged with her palms out and with a smile.

"Ori loves Fili and Kili, and they him. I know they're very fond of Dori as well." Tauriel's voice sounded a bit strained. "There's been some arguing between the king and Nori though."

"That doesn't sound right." Dis responded with a frown. "Of all the Longbeards, only twelve swore to my brother's side on this quest of his. Balin, Dwalin, Oin and Gloin are cousins. Bofur and his family are long-time friends. Dori, Nori and Ori? Did so out of loyalty to their king, and out of love of Erebor."

"And out of love for Thorin, and you." Tauriel added in almost a question.

Dis nodded. "It is so. They are family. Though if Nori and Thorin are arguing, I would not be surprised. All families squabble from time to time." If her mind flew to her eldest son, she did not say. "It doesn't mean there isn't love."

Tauriel watched Kili's mother as she answered a few more questions from the two dam's. This female was more than she appeared. There was a strength here, and a generous spirit, no matter what her actions may have been back in her second marriage.

"If you keep twisting that chain it will break." Dis said a bit tersely, pointing at the signal rock Kili had gifted to her. "I am unfamiliar with that stone."

The she-elf hesitated a second, but the princess had been if not nice, at least not openly hostile since the cave-in. "Kili made it, he used a signal stone the Lady of Lorien gave to him. It glows when there is danger."

Dis' eyes widened, and dropped to the elf's hand that covered the stone. Tauriel let it fall, the small weight of it around her neck. It was still glowing.

Brunere looked up at what was left of the ceiling, anxious.

Tauriel shrugged. "Erelinde pointed out, that we are not sure if it means a danger to me. Or to him." On her last word her voice cracked slightly.

Dis nodded absently, a ringing in her ears.

"Do you think Fili and Thorin are alright?" Erelinde bit her lip, looking worried.

"I need to find Kili. See him." Tauriel whispered, her unswollen eye near glowing with intensity. "Is this light for him?" She lifted her necklace once more, letting the others see the glow that terrified her.

Suddenly the dwarrowdam mother realized, the elf might be frightened. But only partly for her own well-being, if at all. No. It was the possibility of danger to Kili that had the red-head near trembling with the need to be doing something. She'd underestimated the lass.

Dis whistled shrilly. The three dwarrow looked over at her immediately. "Change of plan. We will not wait to be rescued." She stood, dusting off her plain skirts.

"My lady, it would be better for those out there to dig us out." One of the dwarves protested. "Logically, they have the resources and the numbers."

"Well. We don't have the time nor the inclination to wait." Dis stressed that last word subtlety. "Do we dams?" She paused, then bowed her head in Tauriel's direction. "In this instance alone, that includes you."

"Please, stop." A burly dwarrow stepped toward them.

Dis held up one hand. "We are going that way. We are going to see what we can do to get out of here on our own. If you are not with us, fine. Stay in here like the dams you are. By Nain's bearded ass, we have loved ones to get back to."

Tauriel suddenly grinned, standing up eagerly as she followed Dis down the darkened tunnel without a qualm, Brunere and Erelinde right beside her.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dwalin wasn't the rider that the others were, only Radagast seemed more out of place mounted on a horse than he did. As they came through a rocky field, snow crunching beneath them as they rode, he could see the startled reaction in those ahead of him.

Glorfindel rose up slightly in the saddle, reaching to his sword and pulling the straps free in preparation for bloodletting. Gandalf's staff came forward, as if in readiness.

Taking this as warning, Dwalin managed to free one hand from the death grip he had on the reins to pull free some of his own weaponry. When he could see what they did, his eyes narrowed. "Goblins. More fecking goblins." He growled, kicking his horse to gather more speed.

Fortunately the attention of the goblins was upon the front gates of Erebor. The sound of their horses and mounts lost on the ruckus made by an army of goblins and wargs. Few orcs though, Dwalin noted.

The first pass of Glorfindel's sword announced their presence, whistling through the crisp cold air and bringing death in its wake. At the first death screams, Gandalf's staff did something. Dwalin wasn't even sure what. There was a brief and bright glow, then bodies flying backwards as if struck by an unseen force.

The bald warrior considered his options. He'd much rather fight on foot than from the back of a mount. He felt too awkward and unstable up here. Still. He freed one hand and snagged a heavy club from a dying goblin nearly cleaved in half by the sword of a golden haired elf lord. Taking that club he swung it with devastating strength and agility, crushing one head into so much pulp and sending two others to be trampled on beneath the hooves of his horse.

A warg leapt at him sideways, trying to carry him off his mount. Dwalin ducked, ignoring the burning pain along his scalp as a claw caught him shallowly. Suddenly the warg whimpered in fright, squealing actually as it rolled into the path of two others of its kind.

Somewhere behind him he heard Radagast say something he couldn't quite catch. Two more wargs dropped, wounded in some way that Dwalin couldn't make out. Still, there were more all around them, pressing closer and closer.

Goblins shouted at them, roaring with their foul breath and rotting teeth. Sunlight glinted off their swords and pikes, though they weren't properly cared for, Dwalin noted. Poor ranks, poor training, and shoddy workmanship. "I will not lose to the likes of you!" He roared.

Suddenly his horse reared, injured and the bald warrior leapt clear. He found himself in the midst of goblins of all sizes and shapes. Some were on the same level as he, though others towered over him. The first eager one to come at him died, his battle cry still lodged in its throat.

Two more made an approach. Dwalin spun, using his stolen club judiciously. So much so that the poor weapon broke. He jabbed the jagged edge into the chest of someone trying to come up behind him. Here he pulled his own weapons Grasper and Keeper. Before he could use them proper, Glorfindel the glory hound that he was, swept into the fray and scattered the goblins. He too was on foot and Dwalin wondered at the fate of his horse for a second, and then came the melee and he was left with no time for thought.

The two, dwarf and elf, should have had difficulty fighting in close proximity. Instead they fell into a type of rhythm, with Glorfindel swinging high and Dwalin protecting the lower area. The elf made a shout and the dwarrow swung around, catching the goblin coming at them from the left. A towering goblin lumbered toward them and Dwalin called out. They shifted again.

The bodies around them started to pile high, while blood dripped down turning their clothes to black and red with gore. Still, no matter how many they cut down, more seemed to arrive. Three for every one that died.

Suddenly there were hooves raining down on a particularly ugly goblin and Dwalin shook his head as a hand reached towards him. It took supreme willpower not to cut off that appendage before realizing that it belonged to Gandalf. He reached out without hesitation.

The Grey Wizard hefted Dwalin easily into the saddle behind him, kicking his horse forward again. A glance to the side saw Glorfindel settling in behind Radagast with the most peculiar look on his face. Dwalin snorted in amusement. He'd bet it was the smell of the Brown Wizard putting off the elven warrior.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dain stood on the battlements, glaring at the gathered forces below. "They don't attack."

"They wait for us to evacuate, weakened and in fright." One of his warriors turned and spat, showing his disgust at the mere thought. "Here's one of 'em elves."

Dain found it interesting that the warrior didn't sound half as disgusted when speaking of the elves. Not even two months ago that would not have been the case. He turned, spotting one of the elven twins hurrying towards him, with Hinnin right next to him. Dain grunted, a bit relieved to see his elf-friend alive and hale.

The elf warrior nodded to him, while Elrohir looked out over the gathered forces against them. "It's bad. Saruman has escaped on horseback." He sounded far too grim for just that bit of news. Dain's full eyebrows rose in question. Hinnin didn't make him ask. "He destroyed the stables, and all the mounts within. Only some of Radagast's rabbits have survived. The guards too are gone, murdered."

Dain watched the elf hesitate further. "By Durin's Axe and Blood elf, spit it out!"

Hinnin looked so terribly saddened, that Dain's breath caught. "Calbrinia?"

"No." The elf warrior sighed heavily then said another name that had Dain closing his own eyes in pained grief.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"The spell's hold fades." Elrond said with great relief, his limbs fair shaking with fatigue.

Thorin let his voice continue through to a natural ending of the song, letting the final words drift from him into the rocks and stones of his kingdom. He could feel it. The release of Saruman's spell as the bands it tried to wrap around Erebor faded until they split apart and broke. He patted the wall possessively. "We are stone." He said, his voice nothing more than a rough rumble of sounds. The king cleared his throat, feeling the dryness there.

Gloin wiped the sweat from his reddened face, looking around him with some awe. "I …don't recall it being like that."

Thorin nodded. "This was different than our ceremonial days." He said in a vast understatement. "I have neglected this duty."

"Because of us." Galadriel's usually melodic voice sounded tired. Weakened.

Looking at the Lady, Thorin was appalled to see how pale she looked. "We need the healers down here."

Elrond shook his head, finding a seat on the ground unceremoniously. "We are drained, that is all."

Celeborn was still standing, but looked like he might be leaning a bit to one side. "Chasing after Saruman would not be wise."

"I never thought to do so." Thorin privately considered that he did not feel much better than the elves were looking. He glanced over at Lorien's leader, only to find that elf staring at his own wife. "Ah."

Galadriel's teeth were clenched, and he saw that so too were her fists.

Thorin shook his head. "Goblins come, and there is much to do here. The spell is broken, but not all are safe. Or found."

The Lady looked up at him and the Dwarven king nearly flinched. She knew. She knew that they could not pursue, and it angered her beyond all measure. Thorin pointed at her. "It burns in your gut, does it not?"

The golden she-elf stood up tall, and she was not leaning. "He will answer for this." She vowed in a voice steeped in power despite her extreme fatigue.

King Thorin nodded. "Yes." His voice could not match hers, but his will and determination were no less for it.

A dwarf bristling with armor and weaponry rushed into the room. He shared the news of the stable and the wanton destruction there. "We will not be able to give chase, not today." He gestured for the king, to indicate a private word.

Thorin stepped aside, listening as the message was given to him. He closed his eyes in grief, nodding and thanking the warrior before sending him back to Dain.

"Gloin?"

The red-bearded merchant looked at his king. "Don't tell me, we're going to run after the murderous wizard on foot." He said with deep sarcasm.

"Cousin." Thorin's voice softened and Gloin stiffened in response.

"No, no, no, no. Who?" His mind whirled through the faces of those he loved and held dear. "Gimli?"

"I do not know, not yet." Thorin's voice sounded husky and sorrowed. "My cousin, your Ahriline. She ….she waits for you."

A pause of silence, then a wail of sorrow torn from the throat of the dwarven husband.

Bifur moved up to Gloin's side, not touching out of respect, but offering silent support. Thorin stepped closer, leaning into his cousin's space, his hand going to the red-head's shoulder.

"My beautiful, wonderful Ahriline?" Gloin sounded devastated. "How? The mountain?"

Thorin shook his head. "Saruman. She was outside, I do not know the reason. But too near the stable. All the guards there now wait as well."

Gloin looked up, his face mottled with red, his eyes full of tears not yet falling. "My lad? What of Gimli?"

"Not with her." Thorin's hand squeezed his cousin's shoulder. "We will find him. We will find them all. We will sing for her and all who wait for us."

Gloin rocked back and forth on his feet, nodding and letting his tears start to fall. "I need …I need to be away from here. I need to destroy something."

"There are hundreds of goblins on our doorstep. I give you leave to slaughter each and every one of them." Thorin balled his hand, thumping Goin's shoulder.

"And then we sing." The red-head asked baldly.

"We will sing. We will find Gimli and Kili and everyone trapped. We will sing for Fili and for Ahriline, and all our fallen." Thorin vowed. "And then we will destroy a wizard."

"It's not that easy." Celeborn cautioned, having heard all.

Galadriel made a noise, drawing her husband's attention. "I like the dwarven plan." She stood up tall, fatigue in every line of her body. Yet conviction shone out of her starlit eyes. "But we will not sing for Fili, for I sense in him the potential to continue your line. He is not gone. He does not yet wait."

Thorin's breath caught in his lungs, hanging there until his chest began to burn. "You are sure?"

Galadriel made a small sound and then nodded slowly. "As sure as I can be. He is not direct kin to me. I …I had seen that he would continue your line, and right now I sense no change in that outcome."

Thorin felt relief, hope, and joy well up within him. Then shame and regret. He turned to Gloin, but the dwarrow was no longer letting his tears fall. The red-bearded dwarf looked at him fiercely. "Find our lads. All of them. I'm off to kill the whole goblin army."

Thorin grinned.

Gloin grinned back, only a hint of madness behind his grief. "Only, I need a sword or some axes. I gave mine to Gimli and I think my room is beneath solid stone right now."

"Bifur, give him your sword." At that dwarrow's questioning look, the king nodded at him. "Find them. I need you digging."

The salt-and-pepper bearded dwarf bowed immediately and handed over his weapon to Gloin as he and King Thorin headed out into Erebor to see whom they could find.

Who would they sing for tonight? It was a daunting thought.


	52. In which messages are heard

"Worry won't make the work go any faster."

Tauriel forced herself not to startle visibly, not having sensed the dwarrowdam's approach. It wasn't like her to allow her focus to narrow so fully as to be unaware of her surroundings. That wasn't good. She licked her lips and forced her hand to let go of the chained rock dangling from about her neck. It surprised her that her fingers felt so stiff. She'd lost herself in her fears over Kili.

Erelinde stood next to her, her own sky-blue eyes showing the struggle of concern as well. "They are fine. In fact, they're crazed with worry about our well-being. Probably fighting to see which one of them gets to us first."

The she-elf recognized the tight tone of stating what was wished and hoped for, as if will-power alone could make it a reality. "Just so." She agreed, though with some reluctance. She did accept the small silver cup handed to her, one that they'd found in one of the trunks down here, while they'd been searching for tools. The water tasted clean and nearly frigid. Unable to voice her true worries, she focused only on what was in front of her. "Is it safe to drink the spring water?"

Erelinde nodded, giving a tired smile. "Very." The usually beautiful dam was looking worn around the edges, and Tauriel was sure she looked no better. Dust and grime caked them both, having mixed with sweat and formed a near crust on their skin and clothing.

In fact, the only clean part on the she-elf was her wounded left eye and temple, since Brunere had insisted on wrapping pieces of cloth torn from one of the linens the dam had carried on her. Literally. Erelinde had laughed, stating the Men had a saying about giving someone 'the shirt off their backs' and that's exactly what Brunere had used for the make-shift bandage leaving the dam in her leathers and woolens alone.

It made Tauriel uneasy in an odd way. Friendships under the Lonely Mountain were not something she'd even considered to be within reach when she'd left the Mirkwood. It had proven a revelation to the she-elf, actually. Ori. Brunere. Sealyn. Erelinde. Bifur and several others. They ignored her internal walls built up high from centuries living in the High Elf kingdom and palace. And these dwarves, once accepting, did so with their whole beings and hearts. It was …beyond anything she would ever have considered or imagined. Not that she'd been without friendships in the past, but they were more cautious in many ways.

Cautious. Like being friends with a prince.

Legolas. Her mind stumbled as her breath caught in sorrow, wishing her friend was here. The prince had ever been her sounding board, listening without judgement and with an open heart. When his father wasn't around. Tauriel's frown deepened and she gave a small sigh at the memories. Legolas, it pained her greatly that he could not see that they were not meant for one another. Though at one time in her life, she had thought that …maybe. Until Kili.

Tauriel stopped breathing for a moment as fear nearly overwhelmed her once more. Ruthlessly she pushed away all thoughts of her dark-eyed love, refusing to focus on the possible danger to him until she could be free of this place.

"It will be our shift again soon." Erelinde said softly, interrupting the she-elf's maudlin musings. The dam was looking over at where the main focus of their efforts were targeted. There was a huge slab covering over half the tunnel on the right side, leaving a slash of diagonal rubble at the left corner, tightly packed. The dwarrow had explained to her that the slab was stable at the moment, though how they judged that she had no clue. So the plan was to dig out through that small corner, trying to clear a way. A way out. The area was small, so they worked in three shifts. One to dig, one to cart away debris, while the third rested. In this manner they took turns.

Tauriel handed the small silver cup back to her friend, her eyes moving back to the focus of her attention and the work they were doing. "It is taking too long." The red-head's hand moved once more to her necklace that Kili had given her. It felt no different. How strange that something that had been glowing for hours had no temperature change. Her only comfort was that the stone still glowed. She'd decided its magic was keyed to Kili and not just the person wearing the item. Which meant that he was still alive, in danger, but still alive.

Tauriel clung to that idea, right now, it was all she had.

A sharp whistle from one dwarrow had them all stopping, taking a deep breath. Those that had been digging, moved to take their rest break, while those that had been clearing debris took their places. Tauriel and Erelinde stood, ready to take their shift at carting away the debris the diggers were shifting around. Of them all, only Brunere didn't take a turn at digging, due to her broken hand. She insisted on taking two shifts at clearing away the rubble out of sheer stubbornness however. Tauriel worried over her injury, but approved her inner strength.

She approved a lot. These dwarrowdams were something special, and they were her friends. "Thank you." The she-elf murmured to Erelinde as the duo began their turn at the grimy job.

"Shush!" One of the male dwarrow suddenly stood upright. Everyone stilled, straining to listen.

Tauriel swallowed, hoping it wasn't more of the ominous creaking and groaning noises they'd heard from time to time. The dwarves had assured her the place was stable once more, but she couldn't help her already frayed nerves.

Relieved smiles bloomed around her, making the red-head blink in confusion. She had not even realized how tense the dwarves had been holding themselves until she saw their expressions change. Hope rose up within her as she eyed her friends, then turned her gaze upon the Lady Dis. The dwarrow princess was nodding and smiling as well. Tauriel caught her breath. Even with her elven hearing, all she could hear was the same creaking and groaning of stone settling, and she said so.

Brunere shook her head, pushing her lank and sweat soaked hair back behind her ears where some strands had worked loose from her normally fastidious braids. "It's rhythmic, not stone upon stone, but metal upon stone."

Tauriel's green eyes lit up, though she continued to feel reluctant to believe, in case her hopes turned out to be a false alarm.

As if sensing this reluctance, Dis's smile softened as she walked over to the she-elf. "They're clearing a way to us." She reached out and took Tauriel's grimy hand, giving a reassuring squeeze. "The digging will take a while yet, this was no small collapse. But relief is coming."

"They're really out there." Tauriel's voice nearly cracked.

Surprised, Dis' eyes widened. "Did you think we alone survived?"

The red-head listened with all her worth, not giving a direct answer. She heard the creaks and groans, but now that she knew what to expect she could tell there was a rhythm to the noise that hadn't been there before.

Dis squeezed her hand once more before letting go, though her hand didn't move away immediately. Tauriel saw the dam's hand hesitate near her necklace with the softly glowing stone. "He lives." The elf whispered, it was all she could offer the dwarven mother.

The dam's sharply blue eyes flew to meet the elf's green eyed gaze. This time reassurance went the other way. Tauriel forced herself to speak lightly. "If it glows, he still lives."

Dis nodded, having already heard the explanation on the origins of the signal stone. She knew, they both did, that there was no guarantee that the stone was indicating a danger to Kili rather than to the elf.

"He lives." Tauriel repeated fervently.

Dis nodded, agreeing out of faith. And need. "They all do." She added.

The she-elf nodded with a jerky motion of her head.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"The first two waves of attacks have been repelled, the walls are holding."

King Thorin II of Erebor grunted with approval at the messenger. "What else?" He knew there was more.

The black-bearded dwarrow nodded and then shrugged. "Lord Dain sends word that the tall Wizard, not the white one, but the other two with that tall elf are attacking. Trying to make it back to us."

Sapphire eyes closed a moment in relief. His relationship with Gandalf might be touchy at times, but he felt better just knowing the wizard hadn't betrayed them. Or left. "Can aught be done to assist them?"

The messenger nodded, looking a bit relieved by the king's response. "Lord Dain is already fighting his way toward them."

This surprised Thorin a bit, then he firmed his mouth. No. Dain had felt and seen the elves holding up the entirety of Erebor's massive weight to save the dwarves. Honor would overcome any reticence the dwarven leader might have to assist Glorfindel and his companions. "Good." With a quick nod to dismiss the dwarrow, the king turned to the next report. Then he stopped. He coughed to reclaim the messenger's attention. "Gloin?"

For the first time the bearded dwarrow dropped his gaze, though only for a second. He grunted. "At the leading point on all assaults." A pause. "Except for the foray leading to the ...wizards." Here his voice dipped slightly lower on volume.

Balin, bloody and bruised and limping, hurried up to the king right at that last sentence. Confused he glanced at Thorin. The king shook his head at him and dismissed the messenger once more. "Gloin will not make effort to relieve Gandalf and Radagast." He said in a near whisper.

The white-bearded dwarrow nodded. Thorin noted there were some drops of blood staining his old friend's usually meticulously coifed beard. He wondered at the origin, but did not ask. Balin would not appreciate the question, nor would most dwarrow in fact. If there was news, he'd share it and that was that.

Balin whistled sharply, turning all immediately close-by eyes in their direction. But it was to the departing messenger he was looking. "Tell Gloin that his son is aiding the rescue of the dwarrowdam quarters."

Something heavy felt like it lifted right off of Thorin's heart and he grunted with approval even as the messenger nodded swiftly and finally exited the area. Gimli lived. That was one unknown moved into the proper accounting. "Good."

"Indeed." Balin sighed, running a hand in agitation over his beard. The blood did not smear. Dried already then and not fresh. "Lord Elrond is helping with the healing in the main hall, though he looks about ready to fall over himself."

Thorin nodded, he'd too seen the grayish cast of exhaustion weigh heavily upon the Rivendell leader. He could not fathom the sheer amount of effort it had taken the elves to hold up the weight of an entire mountain until the dwarrow had been able to reclaim the kingdom from Saruman's foul spell. Or had it been Sauron's? The king frowned, a discussion for another time. Now that they had another time to look forward to in the first place. "The Lady and her husband?"

"Lord Celeborn is giving assist in the lower mining shafts." Balin's eyebrows rose, letting his monarch know he was surprised by his own news. "He helps with his magics to shore up the loose fill in and allow the diggers to affect rescues."

"The Lady?" Thorin wondered when he'd stopped being regally polite and called her such even within his own head, instead of 'the witch of the wood'.

Balin shrugged uneasily.

Thorin looked around the area, as if seeking a sign of the golden glow usually emanating from that person. All he saw was organized chaos all around him. "Fili?" He dismissed Galadriel from his mind. He had no right to order her around, and no cause to question her whereabouts.

"The Tigett shaft is gone." Balin's voice was flat and careful. "Recovery, not rescue." Meaning all who had been there were crushed. "I've had Fergard look and he concurs with the supervisors down there. There is nothing to be done at this time."

The king heard the sorrow in the counselor's voice. "Where else could he have gone?"

Balin made a harsh sound at the back of his throat. "The prince …that's where he would have been."

Thorin turned the full effect of his sapphire eyes onto his old friend and advisor, making Balin take a step back before his spine straightened. "Fili does not wait. He lives, and since he is not with us, then he must be cut off from us."

Finding himself nodding, Balin winced, drawing his mouth into a sour expression.

"No. I am not crazed. The Lady tells me that my crown prince yet lives and I choose to believe her." Thorin avowed while pointing a finger harshly at the dwarrow in front of him. "Find him."

"There are a lot of trapped, wounded and ….there are a LOT of dwarves in this mountain. Fili is not kin to her. She and the other elves are exhausted beyond all telling." Here the white-bearded dwarrow's voice softened, still in awe about what the elves had done for them all.

Thorin grunted, knowing that Balin was suggesting that the Lady might be wrong. He too wondered for a moment, then saw again her eyes as she'd told him his heir still lived. "He breathes still and does not yet wait. I want him found."

Responding to his king's sure manner, Balin bowed deeply.

"Kili?"

"There is yet no word, sire."

Thorin nodded even as more messengers raced up toward him, standing just far enough away to allow the king to acknowledge them before approaching with their news.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili groaned, feeling wrung out down to the very marrow of his bones. His head was banging with the sound of rock on rock. Thudding harshly and echoing into the dark. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his thoughts. Kili and his brother were used to guarding caravans and travelling, ever in danger of raiders or worse. Waking up alert was not just a way of life, it was a necessity.

Sitting up, Kili ran his tongue over his teeth as he subconsciously flexed his fingers and toes. They all responded. His chest hurt, ached, but breathing wasn't fiery so probably no broken ribs.

"You're alive. Good. Hold this."

A lantern was thrust into his hand as the world wobbled. No. Kili looked around quickly. He was being carried on a stretcher. Without thought he swung his legs to one side and slid off onto his own two feet. The world spun alarmingly and he had to brace himself on the shoulder of a dwarrow with whom he did not know.

"Steady lad." The older dwarf cautioned, though with a nod of approval.

"Saruman?" Kili tried out his voice, finding it hoarse. Last he remembered the damned wizard was trying to kill his uncle, father, and grandfather. There was something else, but he couldn't quite bring it to mind.

"Escaped." The older dwarrow turned his head and spat in disgust.

Kili licked his suddenly dry lips.

They didn't make him ask. A familiar face moved into the circle of light. Ori. His distant cousin looked grimy and his face had a streak of blood from a slice along his forehead, but he was smiling. "The King and your elvish uncle bid us take you and your father to the healers."

The brunette nodded, then immediately regretted the movement as his head started banging again. He winced and shook himself. So. Thorin and Elrohir were alive. His father too, or he wouldn't need a healer.

Ori frowned, putting his hand on Kili's shoulder. "Short and quick version. The mountain tried to come down around us. We can't go back and the way to the healer's hall crumbled. Remember when Bilbo complained about the lack of stair railings? Well, now there are no stairs in places."

Kili nodded, the movement making him go pale and swallow hard to keep his stomach in its assigned position. He looked around more carefully, trying to push the headache away as he struggled to find focus. Ori. Four Iron Hills dwarrow, and another pallet. With a body far too still upon it. He groaned.

Ori's hand tightened on his shoulder. "Your father still breathes." He said reassuringly before letting go.

The dark-haired prince stepped toward the stretcher holding his father when his knees quaked and he stumbled. Ori was back immediately, wrapping his strong arm around the taller dwarrow half-blood. "Easy."

Kili's eyes were on Elladan, but saw no movement beyond the slightest rise and fall of his chest. And even that he wasn't sure of. With Ori's help he walked closer, putting his hand on his father's chest. It moved. Shallowly, but it moved. The prince's hand rose to touch the back of his hand to Elladan's cheek. Cold, but not the chill of death.

Kili knew death, how could he not? He was a dwarf who'd grown up in mean circumstances and around Humans. He guarded caravans and fought innumerable times in his short life already. But death to a loved one …his mind stalled. Loved one? He traced the lines of Elladan's face and let his hand fall. "What happened?" He deliberately turned away from his own stray thought.

"Saruman turned against us." Ori grimaced and shrugged. "Wasn't there for that, and heard some talk that Sauron was with him."

Kili paled further, feeling his gorge rise at the thought of the Dark Deceiver within Erebor. "All I saw was Saruman."

Ori and the other dwarrow nodded as they took the opportunity to open their water pouches and take a brief break. Letting the young prince gather his strength and legs beneath himself once more. The ones holding Elladan's stretcher put it down for the moment.

"Heard you hit Saruman, knocked his hold loose on the king and the others." A blond-bearded dwarrow commented with respect and a short nod.

"I did?" Kili's voice rose a bit as he struggled with his headache while trying to remember.

"Thorin said it himself." Ori agreed with the others.

"Oh." The dark-haired prince shook his head, trying to piece the fragmented memories he had of the attack together into something resembling reality. He just felt cold, achy, and empty. Hollow actually.

"Sauron came." Ori's face screwed up with confusion as if he didn't quite understand himself. "I think. Anyway. The elves were fighting and the king tasked me with getting you and your father to the healers. Only, while on our way, Erebor tried to crash down around us."

"Someone sang the Song of Stone." A dwarrow cleared his throat and shrugged. "Many someones. You can still feel it." All the other dwarves nodded.

Kili moved without grace over to the nearest wall, bracing himself against it. He frowned. Nothing. He could feel and hear nothing.

"It's good to have the stone respond so well." An older dwarf remarked, moving up beside the prince and patting the wall as if it were a living creature. "The mountain recognizes King Thorin." He smiled at the younger heir.

Kili dropped his hand as if the stone were hot. He'd felt nothing. No hum, no song, no power. Was he not dwarven enough for the mountain? He pushed the ill thought away and looked up at the ceilings he knew to be over them, though he could not see so high in the dim light of the lone lantern he still carried.

"We doused the others, to conserve oil." Ori told him, catching the expression on his cousin's face.

"Smart." Kili responded absently, still reeling with the realization he could not hear Erebor or the Song of Stone. He frowned, looking at the architecture around him as best he could. "I don't recognize where we are." He deliberately changed the subject.

"Crafting halls are that way." One dwarrow pointed out hesitantly. "This is the secondary hub, we had to go around the long way. The main stairs got crushed and we were stuck on a middle level near the baths."

Kili turned and his stomach fell as he saw the crushing fall of rocks and debris that might as well have erased the main stairs to the crafting halls. Erelinde. Had she been in there? "Who waits?" He asked bitterly.

"We don't know." Ori shrugged, deliberately not thinking of his own brothers and how he wasn't sure of their locations. "But not us." He pointed at the stretcher-bearers, who jumped back to take up Elladan once more.

"I won't be carried." Kili grimaced, cautiously taking a step and relieved when he held himself up.

Ori nodded while another dwarrow moved to the prince's opposite side. Kili handed off the lantern and they made their way through the dim corridor, or what was left of it. Every step was a struggle and his head swam a dozen times before they'd gone a hundred yards. It took two dwarves to help support him, but he was on his own feet. It was a dwarrow thing.

"We are stone." Someone muttered.

Everyone repeated the words, even Kili, though they felt empty and hollow within his mouth. With his mixed blood, was he stone?

What was he?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Galadriel stood with the dwarrow currently guarding the main walls of Erebor. She was making them nervous, though through no intent of her own.

Small looks were being thrown her way from small groups of dwarrow who were gripping their weapons tightly.

The Lady knew without a word being spoken that she confused these poor dwarves from the Iron Hills. Their thoughts buffeted her like a wind with no clear direction, as if before a storm.

She and hers had held up Erebor, allowing the Dwarves time to shore up their kingdom. Protecting them. Fighting FOR them. Against Saruman. Or Sauron. They were confused on this bit, as they should be. As she was herself.

Saruman. Sauron's puppet. Willingly. For how long? How had she not known? How could she not sense? For the first time in several millennia she felt as a young elfling not in control. Betrayal bit deep.

No. Saruman had not ever been a favorite of hers, but that meant little. Who was she? An elf who had lived a very long time. So what? All the more time to make mistakes, the longer the time the greater the mistake? Perhaps.

Celeborn was busy within, aiding further. She …had she let him down? Perhaps not all that she loved was within this mountain at the moment, but it was close. Arwen was still unaccounted, though Galadriel knew she was still living.

They all yet lived. A victory perhaps. But too narrow a one. Far too narrow. Galadriel's fingers twitched as she stared out over the area laid thick with goblins.

Life. Goblins lived. Following their master's will with glee and avarice. Saruman. Lived. Her fingers twitched again, making the nearest dwarrow to her shift their weight uneasily.

Saruman lived.

It was untenable. Unbelievable. A pox on life itself.

Weary beyond measure, Galadriel knew she could not pursue the White Wizard. No, no longer the White. Yet … she sensed the withdrawal of Sauron. Would not Saruman be as exhausted as she? More so perhaps. Weakened. Alone.

Dispassionately she watched as Dain and his dwarrow arrived back behind their lines with Glorfindel and the others. Bloody, bruised, but not broken. Not like she felt on the inside.

Saruman. Alone.

She stepped forward, nodding as Glorfindel dropped to his knees and the Wizards offered sorrowed greetings. Saying not one word she reached for the reins of Gandalf's mount. The horse was spent.

The Gray did not relinquish the reins. "Please, do not do this." He whispered, not meeting her eyes.

"Saruman betrayed us." She hissed in a sound that had several dwarrow backing up nervously.

"Then let me." Gandalf spoke gently but with firmness, his fingers tightening upon the reins.

Galadriel's eyes moved to meet his for the first time, finding sympathy and understanding there. She looked away first. "You would die." As beloved as the wizard was, he was not at the moment a match to Saruman.

"You would as well." Gandalf told her sadly, none of his usual humor in his voice. "Or is that your wish?"

"I've died once, I have no fear of it." Galadriel's head turned slightly, finding Glorfindel with his hand over his heart. "I would go after him."

"I too." Dwalin spoke up for the first time, in his mind picturing Saruman acting the wise counselor. The friend.

"Yer all fools." Dain shook his head, watching them all unhappily.

"Dwarrow never back down from a fight." Galadriel said proudly. "I've known every Durin."

Dain's thick eyebrows rose up nearly to the top of his head as he scoffed openly. "And I'm only descended from him? Perhaps. But I fought for and won the fields before Khazad-dum, and refused to take a step inside. Not for fear of my life, but that my life was worth more than throwing it away on a battle I could not win at the time. That's a battle for another day."

Dwalin grunted. He'd been there that horrible day, a battle that was a victory in name only.

Galadriel paused, hesitating. She turned her gaze fully upon the Dwarven Lord. He did not flinch nor twitch, nor back down. "You remind me of him."

"Durin?" Dain's chest puffed outwards as he gave a rumble of a laugh. "Which one?"

"All of them." Galadriel let go of the reins, leaving them in Gandalf's hand.

"There is too much work to be done here, too many to find, too many to heal, and we can't waste breath arguing if you want to throw your life away riding after an evil betrayer." Dain eyed the tall female wearily. "You and yours saved the kingdom."

"No." Galadriel dismissed the charge. "We delayed the end, you and yours saved Erebor."

Dain sketched her a polite bow in acknowledgement. "Don't let all our efforts go for nothing."

"Thranduil comes. King Bard comes. Cirdan comes." The Lady looked at Gandalf with the saddest eyes he had ever seen on her face.

The Gray sighed heavily. "Could he be reached?" Asking if Saruman was lost to them completely.

"Sauron spoke through his mouth."

Dwalin said something foul while Radagast hissed with disgust, shaking his head. "Could we free Saruman from his control?"

Galadriel gave a sharp tilt of her head and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Saruman was not IN his control, he follows the Deceiver willingly."

Glorfindel's head drooped despondently as Gandalf winced.

"My rabbits can catch him, better than these poor horses." Radagast offered, though he looked as dazed as the rest of them.

Dain grimaced, shaking his head. "The foul wizard destroyed the stables and nearly all our mounts. There are few left, and none uninjured other than some rams and hogs that were in open pens. Not enough to mount a full assault."

The Brown Wizard stared at the shorter dwarf in stunned disbelief. "My rabbits?"

"I am sorry." Galadriel offered the wizard her hand, unmindful of his lack of cleanliness.

A heart-wrenching wail went up from Radagast as he hurried off to see for himself, and perhaps look for survivors. Foul words trailed behind him as he picked up his robes as he ran, knobby white knees visible to all.

"Come."

Galadriel looked over to where Glorfindel was holding out his hand for her. She turned and cast her gaze back over to the goblin army laid out before Erebor's walls. She held up her fist, clenched around her Ring of Power.

A wizened hand covered her fist. Her eyes traveled from the long-fingered hand to the wrist and up the sleeve of his robe to the kindest eyes she had ever known. And the most knowing. "Gandalf."

"You are the only elf who prefers that name for me." He teased.

"It is how you see yourself." The Lady explained to him. "You are a friend to the elves, but you belong more to the other races." Galadriel let her hand relax into his hold as he took her fist and opened it, laying the palm upright upon his own. His other hand covered it, so that her hand was sandwiched between his.

"I belong to no one." He chided her gently. "And you are utterly spent."

The Lady nodded, knowing it to be true. The Ring had power, a great deal of it. Yet she had used a lot of its reserves in holding up the mountain. There was very little strength left. In her. The Ring could go on, but she could not. What would happen if she drained herself so that only the Ring was left? An image of the Nazgul came to mind, though that was not what had created those foul beings. They had given into a lust for power and allowed Sauron to take them over heart and soul.

She?

If she rode out after Saruman on pride alone, relying solely upon the strength of her Ring, what would it cost her?

Galadriel lifted her gaze to Gandalf, and then over to Glorfindel. Their faces were masks, showing nothing. She smiled at them sadly, pulling her hand away from the Gray. "Come, there is much to do inside."

Both males smiled, nodding, even as Dwalin finished speaking with Lord Dain.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"There's a problem."

The words pierced Tauriel's calm and she snapped her jaw shut to keep from crying out.

Brunere was the one to ask the obvious. "What now?"

"We've dug out at the start of the stairs leading up." The dwarrow held out his hands, illustrating his words as he spoke. "The rescuers have dug through to us, here." He put his hand far above his first hand. "In between? Loose rubble, jagged rocks, nothing good."

"We can climb." Tauriel said, not seeing a huge problem, not yet.

"The debris is loose, and there are some rather large chunks. Now, there is a way through." The dwarrow held open one hand in a cupped position and mimed someone going up through the hole. "But those rocks won't take anyone's weight. Climbing could collapse everything below, including the rest of us."

The red head eyed the dwarf carefully, not being a mining engineer or having any experience below ground like this. "Ropes?"

The dwarrow nodded, glad she'd caught on. "The rescuers are setting up a pulley system now."

Tauriel nodded, cautiously excited.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You're late." Oin glared at the new arrivals with a combination of relief and consternation.

Ori shrugged, pulling a moan from the dwarrow who currently had his arm about him for support.

Nuluin hurried over, helping to move Kili to a nearby chair. It wasn't empty, but the dwarrow, though bandaged heavily was at least ambulatory and willing to make room. "Water."

"Word came to us, by raven mind you." Poor Oin shook his head in disbelief. "Imagine, having to send ravens with messages INSIDE Erebor. Anyway, word came you were on your way hours ago."

"Some obstacles." Ori shook his head as he gestured behind him at the stretcher arriving with the still out Elladan. "And we had to maneuver this as well."

Nuluin made a noise, hurrying to the downed elf's side. He pried open one gray eye after the other, peering inside. Kili didn't know what the healer was looking for, but hoped he found it. "He hasn't awoken." The prince said, his voice weaker than he liked.

"He has taken a great blow, a killing blow."

The young brunet shook his head in denial. "He lives."

The elven healer did not look happy as he gestured for the dwarves to carry the stretcher with Elladan deeper into the healing halls. He started calling out for herbs, some Kili recognized, most he did not. He started to rise, only to find Oin and Ori both blocking his path.

"The way is blocked, the king reachable only by raven." Oin poked Kili's shoulder. "That makes you in charge for now."

The prince's eyes widened alarmingly as he shook his head.

Ori was busy craning his neck, looking around at the high number of injured dwarrow and all those bustling around doing whatever the healers needed done.

"Dori's head should be ringing, but I think his skull is too dense. He's leading the rescue in the crafter halls." Oin supplied. He didn't mention Nori, since he didn't know the whereabouts of the ginger-bearded dwarf.

Ori nodded thankfully for what news he did have though. "Bifur and Gloin were with the king, last I saw." He offered his own information to the redoubtable dwarven healer.

Oin's eyes dipped down, and then he sighed, shaking his head. "I know."

Kili reached out gripping the healer's hand. "What?"

"Ahriline waits." Oin could barely bite out the words, as both younger dwarrow sucked in shocked breaths in understanding.

"Gimli?" Kili asked.

Oin shrugged. "I don't know, not yet."

The prince nodded, then stopped. He eyed Oin's sad eyes. "What? What aren't you telling us?" He swallowed hard. "Who?"

"I'm sorry lad."

Images flashed through Kili's reeling mind. Tauriel. Fili. Dis. Thorin ….

"Fili, he …."

"NO!" Kili jumped up in shock and anger, his eyes wide enough that white showed all the way around. "No, no, no!"

"I'm sorry lad, I really am."

"NO! I'd know!" Kili thumped his chest, his voice cracking as he shouted. "Not Fili! I would know!"

"The message said that Fili waits …"

"The message is wrong!" Kili backed up, nearly falling over his chair as he cursed and kicked it across the floor. "Fili …the message is wrong!"

Ori nodded, feeling the loss sharply himself. "There's a lot of confusion right now."

Oin sighed, but dropped his gaze. "Lads."

"His body. Have they his body?" Kili asked desperately, at Oin's blank look the young brunet shook his head a bit wildly. "I won't believe it until I see him. No. It's bad information, that's all."

"The mining shaft where the prince was working collapsed entirely." Oin said sadly.

Kili blinked back against the tears threatening him. He coughed and sputtered and shook his head. "No." He looked around. "Mining shaft. Fine. I'll find him. I'll find him myself. He was working on the Tigett, right?"

"Lad, please."

"The Tigett." Kili ground his teeth together and looked around for supplies. "Rope, water, healing things, light …I need a lantern, a full one, with an extra pouch of oil."

"We need you."

Kili turned and glared at Oin, shaking his head. "Fili …."

"Will be found or not, but lad …we need you here."

The young prince turned and looked, finding nearly every eye upon him. Injured dwarrow. Trapped together. Pockets of survivors. Fili. "He lives."

"He lives." Ori nodded in support.

Duty warred with the need to be looking for his brother. Fili wasn't waiting, he couldn't be waiting. Not Fili. Erebor needed the young blond prince. Thorin needed him. Erebor wasn't even listening to Kili, what good was a dwarven prince who wasn't full dwarrow?

And what of Tauriel, the life's blood of his soul? Dis, his mother, and everyone else?

He couldn't do this. He wasn't enough for this.

Three more dwarves entered the room, two dragging an injured friend with them. None of the three looked whole or hale. Kili pointed at them. "Where, anymore with you?" He asked uncertainly.

The first exhausted dwarrow collapsed to the floor. "Dug out, we heard scraping noises behind us, but couldn't get to them."

Trapped. Like Fili. Like Tauriel. No. Kili growled and spun, his dark eyes raging with pain and grief. He pointed at Ori. "Can you get to the Tigett?" It was a plea.

"I will, I promise." Swore the youngest member of the Company, straightening to his full height and feeling the surge of pride at being given such a task. "I will not fail you."

Oin grunted, approving what he was seeing.

Kili nodded. "Be safe and all speed." He turned and looked around the room. "Any who can move, who can dig, come with me." He pointed at the newly arrived dwarrow. "Show us where."

Kili headed off, barely able to stand himself, but unwilling to bend or fall. He wasn't thinking clearly, only responding to what was needed. It didn't even fully register that the able dwarrow all followed him, mixed blood or not, they responded immediately and without question to Prince Kili of Erebor.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	53. In which there are rescues

"Silence!" The shrill shout echoing off the broken stone walls didn't completely succeed. Though the animated discussion died down for a moment at least.

Displeased, the Lady Dis roughly grabbed the dwarrow who was one of Dain's warriors and shook him. This had more of the desired effect of shutting up the shouting, though the dwarf wasn't even close to being hurt by the movement. He stared at the dam with wide eyes.

Dis made a flat hand sign followed by two more. The three males sent sidelong glances at each other, as if trying to judge her resolve. The dwarrowdam hissed at them. "Don't make me resort to Khuzdul." She said, pointedly not looking at the lone elf in their midst.

Tauriel's already tense muscles tightened further, but she made no comment. A soft touch on her shoulder reminded her that Brunere was there. Though whether the younger dwarrowdam was offering comfort or support and for the situation or the small sting from being excluded, the elf could not tell. The touch firmed when she did not shrug off the hand.

"Brunere should go up first, being the most injured."

The hand on Tauriel's shoulder lessened and would have dropped away entirely if the she-elf hadn't reached up and caught her wrist. The red-head squeezed Brunere's uninjured hand briefly, turning the game of whom was supporting whom around. The violet-eyed dam gave a weak smile and nod. "I am not so badly injured, and would it not be best to have someone stronger up top already to help pull me to safety?" She held up her wrapped and broken hand to further emphasize her point.

"It goes against the male pride to be rescued before a dwarrowdam." Dis' voice mocked the dwarves lightly, though with a smile to show she approved somewhat of their intentions. "Yet we would be better served to have your strength up there."

"We will be needed to anchor the ropes down here, to keep the ones being rescued from swaying into the jagged rocks, or bringing down a jumble of new ones." Groused the dwarf with the most gray in his thick beard, and while his tone might have been a bit belligerent, he managed a short bob of his head toward the princess.

"I could do that." Tauriel offered, just wishing they could get on with the actual rescue. The stone draped around her neck was still glowing a warning, though the light had dimmed. Was the magic fading? Or the threat? Worse, was the unsettling knowledge that she still wasn't sure who the stone was trying to warn of danger? She as the bearer, or Kili as the one it was originally given.

Dis shot a dark look at the red-head, then suddenly froze, her expression turning thoughtful.

"There are dwarrow up there, you got the same message." One of the dwarves sounded very unhappy. "The stairs be out, and it's a long way up to stable ground. There is are two ledges, one of them ill-supported and it could collapse. Three pulley systems and limited space on them to draw us up. The order we go will be of vast importance."

"Any collapse could bury those left beneath, or strand those on the way up to safety."

"Tauriel."

The she-elf looked over at the Lady Dis. "Yes?"

"No, I mean you …you should go first." Dis pointed at her firmly.

The red-head shook her head. "I can steady the ropes down on this end, I have the strength. What I don't have is the stone sense to rise through three pulley systems without causing difficulties."

"Don't hit the sides and all will be well." Erelinde spoke rather dryly, though kindly. "You'll be fine."

"She has the strength and none of the weight." Dis explained. This shut the still arguing dwarves up as they too turned to look toward the she-elf.

"Elves are very strong, the near equal of dwarves." The princess said, only a little bitterness staining her tone.

Near equal? Tauriel did not quarrel out loud with that assessment, though she did not agree with the assessment. She drew up proudly.

"And they have none of our weight." Dis continued, bending her knees a bit and giving a small jump for emphasis. "I recall seeing my …" She stumbled over the word before steeling her spine. "Husband. I recall him and his brother walking over snow and not sinking, nor leaving marks."

The older dwarrow looked skeptical as he eyed the thinner, leaner, she-elf. He stuck out his hand as Men do in greeting.

Tauriel, unfamiliar with the gesture eyed the male balefully. "I don't know that hand sign. What does it mean?"

"It's a Human sign." Erelinde explained before the others could, all surprised the elf was unfamiliar with the gesture. She held out her hand to Brunere, who shook it in greeting, as a visual demonstration for the red-headed elf. "It has many meanings."

"I want to see how strong you are." The dwarrow said, his hand still out in front of him.

Tauriel put her hand in his, letting him squeeze the much smaller bones of her hand. They didn't budge. Her face remained impassive as the pressure grew. The dwarrow stared at her face, becoming disconcerted as she showed no signs of strain. He bore down further, making a rough noise and squeezing with all he had.

The she-elf slowly smiled in an unfriendly manner, how was this moment unlike how the High Elves had reacted when she'd been promoted to captain? She hadn't given in then, and she wasn't going to start now. "When are you going to start?" She said mockingly.

Startled, the dwarrow first stared at her with widening eyes and then burst out laughing. The other two males began cackling wilding, one slapping his thighs as the other near dropped to the cavern floor in mirth.

"Ah lass." The older dwarrow wiped tears from his eyes, smiling at her. "I'd heard you were a game one." He nodded in approval. "Aye, now. You'll be going up first."

His laughter and ease of manner salved her exposed nerves and Tauriel felt the warmth of cautious approval. She looked over at the ropes being prepared and nodded.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

He was so tired and lost in the song that he couldn't even hear how cracked and rough his voice was sounding. Fili leaned heavily against the stone wall, his palm still flat to the surface hewn out by generations of his ancestors. His head was bent, his forehead resting against the wall, almost like the song was a whisper into the ear of a lover.

"Lad please."

Fili blinked, finding his eyes dry as well as his mouth. His fingers twitched.

"Lad?"

Bofur. The blond's head turned and looked over at the concerned dwarf holding out the water pouch. He licked his lips, finding them rough and dry. He straightened.

The hatted dwarf smiled in relief, nodding and gesturing for Fili to take

The prince shook his head, turning to start the Song once more.

"Stop!" The command was stern, and although Bofur had no authority over him, Fili did indeed stop.

"What?"

"You need a break." Bofur told him far more gently than his norm.

Fili puzzled over the attitude and rolled his neck, finding it stiff. He frowned and dropped his hand. His fingers nearly cramped and started aching immediately. He frowned.

"It's been half a day at least, I count nearly twelve hours." Bofur smiled palely at the younger blond. "The mountain is stable again, can't you feel it?"

Blue eyes turned upwards and around, seeking the voice of the stone. He could hear nothing. No, not nothing. A quiet. The stone was there, but no longer straining under pressure. He said as much to the other dwarrow.

Bofur bobbed his head, his smile growing as he passed the water pouch to the young prince. "Yes, exactly so! The stone is …well, it's just stone really. Stone don't think thoughts and such. You're connected now. And the mountain is stable again."

"What caused this?" Fili took a careful mouthful of water, letting the moisture seep into his tissue. It was important to conserve what little resources they had, and the bag was only about a quarter full as it stood now.

Bofur whistled tunelessly and shrugged. "Never felt the like before." He admitted almost reluctantly. Fili's eyes narrowed on the miner and he realized that the other male was more upset about what had happened than he was letting on.

"What aren't you telling me?" Fili demanded suddenly, his eyes narrowing fiercely despite his weariness.

Meeting the prince's gaze, Bofur coughed a hoarse laugh and dropped his gaze. "Mirror of Thorin ye are sometimes lad." He waved a hand at his eyes to indicate what he meant.

"Well?" Fili grunted, not to be deterred.

Bofur pushed his hat back further on his head, his hair flattened against his forehead with sweat. The older of the two dwarrow nodded and looked around them at the rocks caging them in. "While you've been greeting Erebor, I've been thinking."

The blond nodded and resealed the water pouch, setting it aside as he listened.

Bofur sighed unhappily, running an agitated hand over his impressive mustache, tugging lightly on the ends. Fili knew his fellow Company member well enough to sense the deepness of the unease.

"Tell me." He said, though this was less a demand from a prince and more of a plea between friends.

The miner nodded and shrugged unhappily. "It weren't natural." He said with a sigh. "I thought at first I must have missed the signs. Erebor is new to me, and me to her. Haven't built a rapport here, not yet, not even close."

Fili nodded, after half a day singing the Song of Stone he knew he was only hearing a faint echo of what should be there. A barely discernable brush of awareness.

"Blamed myself for bringing us down here." Bofur frowned sharply, then shook his head at Fili's protest. "Nay, of us two I would be more in the way of experienced in these matters. Should have sensed something off, but I was too angry about them wrong sized rods."

"But?"

Bofur nodded grimly and pointed around him at the broken rubble. "The more I think on it, the more I don't think I missed any signs."

Confused, Fili shook his head. "Meaning?"

"It's not localized."

The prince stared at the hatted dwarrow, trying to decipher his meaning. He tried to think it through such as he would if Thorin was here, trying to teach him another lesson. "Not localized. We knew that there would be others involved in this cave-in."

"Cave-in?" Bofur tasted the words as if finding them sour, he drew back and shook his head. "We seem to have the time, so let me give you a quick rundown of your kingdom for you, lad."

"Is that …."

"This isn't limestone." Bofur began, patting the rock beneath him. "Nor is it a lava tube or a glacier cave. Those be prone to collapse and a good mining engineer would have a whole other system of support. Still and all, they will fall." He paused tellingly and dropped his gaze for a moment. "That's more along the line of what happened in the Blue Mountains."

His father. Fili held his breath for a moment, thinking of Nehili.

"But this is Erebor, and it's different here." Bofur sighed and nodded as the prince did not interrupt him. "A roof-fall can mean all different kinds of collapses, from flakes of shale to great sink holes that go all the way to the surface."

Fili raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "There was none of that here."

"Exactly!" Bofur pointed at the prince for emphasis. "This is stable ground. Bedrock. We are deep below the mountain. Before Smaug came there wasn't a tremor in centuries. The only roof-fall here was deliberate and part of the mining process."

"Another dragon attack?"

Bofur frowned, as if disappointed somehow. "Nay. There was no impact. The stone wasn't shook any, it simply ….came down."

Fili ran through the words in his mind, parceling out the facts as he marshalled his thoughts into a conclusion. But he was having difficulty understanding whatever it was the other dwarf was trying to impart to him. "What?"

Licking his lips in a nervous gesture, Bofur tugged at one of his ears.

Fili sighed, leaning back. "This wasn't just an attack, as if by an army of goblins or orcs." He guessed.

Bofur slid his eyes over to meet the young prince's gaze. "Not even earth movers could have done this. Oh, they could muck up the place pretty badly, but not this." He waved a hand around in a generalized gesture.

"Mordor?" Fili asked next, not really wanting this question asked. Or answered.

A brief nod dispelled his hopes. Fili dropped his head into head, scrubbing his fingers over his scalp, feeling the braids which were so much a part of his culture. "No one knows where we are. There's too much stone and rock to dig out without tools. And I can't sing the stone well enough to let anyone know where we are."

"Not even Durin himself could do that, lad." Bofur rushed to reassure his companion. "We dwarves like to say we're stone, but we're flesh too. Stone, it don't listen easily, not to something as small as us."

Fili flashed a grin, almost blinding in its suddenness. "Then I'll just have to make it listen."

"Lad?"

Fili stood, dusting off his palms, not that it did any good as grimy as his leathers were at the moment. He marched over to the side of the small area left to them. Slapping his palm against the rock face, he winked at Bofur. "If there's a way to let anyone up there know we're still alive, I'll find it."

"Lad." This time the word was drawn out and sad, a warding against false hope.

"Bofur. We brought thirteen dwarves across Arda to face stone giants, eagle flight, goblins, orcs, capture, and a death-dealing fire-breathing dragon. No one had odds on us. No one in the world."

"Well now lad, I seem to remember a human killing the dragon, and elves saving our arses!" Bofur near yelped as Fili turned a fierce eyed glare upon him.

"No matter. We won." He drew back and slapped the rock stingingly hard with his palm. "This is Erebor and I will not give up on her. Now, get up off that arse and sing with me. I may be the Line of Durin, but you know stone far better than I. Sing, damn it!"

Bofur grinned as he slid off his perch and joined his prince. He didn't know if they had a chance, but if they did, they were going to try and take it.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Father."

The soft spoken voice could have been lost in the hall filled with the noise of the injured. All while there was ringing of metal upon stone rang non-stop throughout the area, from places both near and far deeper inside the underground kingdom.

Still, the two tall elves, so similar and so different, both heard and immediately spun on their heels. Elrohir's face split into a relieved grin as he swept his younger sister into an enveloping hug, making her drop the large canvas bag she'd been holding.

Balin straightened up from where he and the elves been speaking with an injured dwarf. Both dwarves smiled at the family reunion. Daughters were a treasure to any dwarrow, and they doubted the elvish father felt much different.

Elrond, could suddenly breathe again. Taking advantage, he drew air into his lungs which no longer felt quite so cramped. "Arwen." Her name was a supplication upon his lips, and a thanksgiving. "When you are quite through." He gently chided his son.

Elrohir reluctantly released his sibling as their father held out his arms to his only daughter. Arwen fit inside his embrace perfectly, resting her head for a moment on his chest, hearing his heartbeat. "It does these eyes good to see you both."

Over her head, Elrohir's gaze met that of Lord Elrond's. Elladan. Kuilaith. How to tell her? What to tell her, they themselves didn't even know how the two were.

"You are uninjured?" Elrond asked, avoiding the topic a moment at least. He leaned back, placing his hands on her shoulders and peering into her open gaze.

Arwen smiled easily, doing much to warm her father's cold worry. "Scratches only. I was with Master Dori in the weaving craft halls. Before I knew what I was about he'd grabbed me and shoved me in a tight corner with several other dwarves."

Balin grinned outright while the injured dwarf sat straight up on his pallet, his right arm bound to his side with bandages. "Dori, you are sure? He is well?"

"Your brother was fine and hale, helping to lead the recovery of others so trapped." Arwen told the ginger-bearded dwarf. "I was able to see Ori briefly as well, he is also uninjured."

Nori nearly choked so quickly did he offer her thanks for the news.

Elrond swallowed hard, knowing Dori must have reacted quickly in a way that his daughter wouldn't have known how to do. Elves weren't used to underground mines, or stone above their heads. "I owe him."

The she-elf nodded, patting her father's cheek for a moment before looking around for the bag she'd dropped. "The main entrances to the craft halls are destroyed. The dwarves were able to find another way around, though it took a while, and some digging. Nuluin sent me with some healing supplies he thought you might have need of."

Her light voice did nothing to inform her father if she'd been frightened, or how much 'digging' had to have been done to get them free. "We were able to get through to the healing halls eventually."

Elrond's hands tightened as Arwen met his gaze fully. "I saw Elladan. Ori got he and Kuilaith through safely."

Elrohir took courage in the fact that Arwen did not look devastated by grief. "The news is good?" He asked, garnering her attention.

"Nuluin says our brother took a 'killing blow' from …." She turned to look back over at her father for clarification.

Elrond sighed unhappily. "Saruman has betrayed us." He acknowledged.

"I had hoped it to be nothing more than rumor." The brunette she-elf said with a heartfelt sadness. "Words and nothing more."

"I'm afraid not." Elrohir said, still angry, though he'd been outside fighting goblins for most of the afternoon. Only inside now as Galadriel had sent him with messages, letting Elrond know that Thranduil would be arriving within the hour and that Cirdan was all but come as well. The Humans of Dale had already made their presence known, flanking the goblins as best they could even though the enemy had seen them approaching.

"Well." Arwen straightened up. "Rumor speaks of Saruman trying to kill Kuilaith, with Elladan stepping deliberately in the path?"

Elrond frowned at the memory, feeling again the bitter shock of betrayal and terror as he saw someone he'd so trusted attack his son and grandson. He nodded quickly.

"I rejoice for you that Elladan lives." Nori gave a short bob of his head, "but if it was a killing blow, how does he still breathe?"

Balin hissed and made a gesture meant to shut the other dwarrow up, shaking his head at so indelicate a question. "Magic."

Elrond shook his head immediately. "No. Saruman had blocked our ability to react in that manner. No. Elladan took the blow meant for Kuilaith without such aid."

Balin's eyes widened as both Elrohir and Arwen now stared at their father too. "But how?" They asked nearly at the same time.

The elvish healer shook his head. "I can only speculate. Saruman had a known distaste for dwarves."

Nori snorted derisively.

"He was clearly aiming for Kuilaith, he even said so before Elladan took the blow meant for his son. My son's child is mortal. What would be a killing blow to him …" His voice trailed off as he considered how close they'd all come to death.

"Elladan is not mortal, so he knew the blow wouldn't kill him?" Balin asked.

"I'm afraid not. The attack should have killed Elladan." The elvish father said, his voice tight. "I believe that Saruman didn't put his full strength behind it because he did not feel it necessary, not to kill a mortal mixed-blood dwarf. He might have been conserving his strength for his escape."

"He miscalculated the love of a father for a son." Balin said with respect in his voice, giving a more formal bow to the elvish leader, which Lord Elrond returned with grace.

"Indeed."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel allowed none of her misgivings to show, tugging on the sturdy rope to test the strength of the life-line dangling from above. After crawling through the excavated opening in the fallen debris, there wasn't much space on this side. One of the dwarrow helped harness her to the rope and pulley system while Kili's mother helped and observed.

The she-elf looked upwards, then downwards. They were on what was left of an outcropping, part of the stair system that would have led up and out if it hadn't been smashed. Tauriel tilted her head once more, trying to pierce through the darkness at the hole in the staircase, but there was not sufficient light.

"Gimli is up there, among others." At Tauriel's blank look the princess took pity on her. "My cousin Gloin's son."

Ah. The red-head nodded to show she'd understood. Yet she could not help but recall that Gloin never gave her much of anything beyond a day's greeting and a chilly look. Not unfriendly, but not really welcoming either.

"Ready?"

Tauriel nodded to the dwarrow, who gave a complicated system of tugs on the rope to indicate readiness. She had a moment to wonder and then her feet were no longer on the ground.

"Careful." Oddly, it was Dis who called up after the departing elf. Tauriel concentrated on as little movement as possible. The last thing needed was for the rope to start swaying like a pendulum. Thus she had nothing to do but allow herself to be pulled up by sheer force, leaving her little to do but think.

"Well." Tauriel said aloud to no one, as she cast her gaze down to her chest. The warning stone that Kili had gifted to her still glowed its pale alert. No brighter now that she was in the air being lifted, than it had been on the ground.

A scraping sound carried from somewhere above her and her head jerked upright. Making the rope sway slightly. Tauriel stifled a curse or two as she forced herself still. The rope steadied slowly.

Slowly she moved upwards inch by agonizing inch.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"King Thorin." Elrond bowed at the approach of the dwarven monarch.

Intense eyes narrowed as dark brows furrowed with the king's scowl. "Am I to call you Lord Elrond at all times?"

"Certainly not." The elf's mouth twitched and he nodded his head. "Thorin." He amended his greeting to something less formal.

"Today's events, if nothing else, shows that I …was wrong about you." Thorin admitted, though with ill grace and a deep frown. "Though why you think you can summon me in all this confusion is beyond my understanding."

Elrond's eyes showed his surprise. "It wasn't meant as a summons, but my daughter Arwen has arrived from the healing halls with news."

Thorin's temper faded somewhat, though he mused that might be bad as it seemed to be the only thing holding him up from utter exhaustion at the moment. "Kili?" To his credit there was barely a pause before he asked about Elladan as well.

"They had to take a more circuitous route, due to difficulties." Elrond gestured to the jumble of rocks around them, though the main hall was pretty well cleared of debris. If only to make room for all the gathering dwarrow, and the injured. "But they arrived safely enough. My son still lives, though he is not awake."

King Thorin nodded thoughtfully, then grimaced. "It was a brave thing he did, protecting Kili."

Elrond nodded in acknowledgement of the compliment. "Neither of my sons lack for bravery, nor Arwen as well. Though a parent might wish for more restraint from time to time. Today was not such a time."

A weary laugh escaped the dwarven king. "Perhaps Kili gets his reckless nature from Elladan. I had always assumed it to be from other relatives." Thorin's heart still ached as he pictured Frerin's laughing face.

"Or a mixture of all of them." Elrond allowed, feeling every bit as hollow and exhausted as Thorin. "It seems Arwen was shocked to hear that Galadriel feels Fili still lives. Word had gotten to the healing halls that your crown prince had died. She has gone back to get more healing supplies, retrieve more information, and to deliver the news on Fili."

Thorin hated to think of Kili's pain if he believed his brother to be in the Halls of the Waiting. "Rumors will be everywhere. Some of it even true. Thank you for informing me about Kili and Elladan."

Elrond nodded, then seemed to sense a hesitation in the king's manner. "Was there something else?"

Frowning, Thorin looked around to see who was close, who could hear. Sharpening the elf lord's curiosity. Obligingly, Elrond moved closer to the king. "No." But as the elf began to move away, the king's frown sharpened further. "Wait."

Elrond waited, saying nothing.

Thorin sighed, his voice dropping to a whisper. "When only you, I and Elladan were there, against Saruman, unable to move or fight …." His voice trailed off there, though his expressive eyes finished the thought for him. "Killing us." He added after the elf did not speak for a moment.

Elrond had no difficulty following the trail laid out before him. Though he had no response to give. Right before Elladan fell, and before Galadriel burst through the wall. Something had happened. Something with Kuilaith. A huge blow against Saruman. And a light his memory was giving greater strength to than could possibly have been there. Very uneasy, the tall elf shifted his weight, as if trying to find his balance both physically and mentally. "For that, I have no answers, not yet." He side-stepped the question.

Thorin grunted, sensing the elven leader's disquiet and definitely not satisfied with that answer. "Have none, or will not yet share?"

Lord Elrond thought back to that moment, when Kuilaith had begun to glow and he too frowned. "For this, I have none. Not yet. I … would not … he should not have … I do not know."

A soft sigh was the king's response. "Damn. I think I would have been happier if you just weren't sharing."

In that, Elrond could only agree. How had Kuilaith accessed the Eldar light within? His training was not that far along, nor had any of the elves considered the lad to have enough elvish blood to do such a thing. Yet. Kuilaith had fought back. Against Saruman. It might have been only for a moment, but that one blow had freed both Elrond and Thorin, and had perhaps alerted Galadriel.

"I have heard no rumors about this part of the fight." Elrond said cautiously. "Only you and I were witness."

Elladan too, but neither spoke of the worry that the elf might not survive the recent events.

Thorin nodded, getting the message. He too had said nothing, not even to those closest to him. "A discussion for another time?"

"And another place." Elrond agreed wholeheartedly.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You don't have to wait." Dis said to the she-elf as they both watched the dwarrow pulling someone up from the lower ledge. "You've been rescued."

"So have you." Tauriel spoke quietly, watching the dwarves as they pulled on the clever rope and pulley system. For something thrown together at a moment's notice and with little resource, she was impressed. "Everyone is not yet up."

"Brunere and Erelinde are already on their way to the healing halls." Dis reminded her.

Tauriel nodded even as she pointed at the main pulley. "It creaks louder than it did when pulling me up."

"That was nearly two hours ago." Dis said a bit snippily.

"Brunere has a broken hand that needs to be set as soon as possible, it is only right she goes to the healing halls." Tauriel explained calmly. "But I want to see everyone pulled out from down there before leaving."

"So damned honorable. Trying to make a good impression?"

The red-head blinked and turned to look at Dis. She guessed that whatever momentary truce they'd had while trapped was gone now. "I don't leave people behind. I was a Captain of the King's Guard for centuries."

"No longer, now you seek a higher title. That of princess is it?"

"I need no title beyond that of my own name. And I will stay to see everyone brought up." Tauriel reasserted.

"I thought you were in a hurry to find Kili!"

The red-head nodded, even as she held up the chain holding the warning stone. It was no longer glowing. "The dwarves pulling me up told me that the prince is leading rescues in the crafting areas. I will join him as soon as possible." The relief she'd felt on hearing that had nearly dropped her to her knees, though she did not try to explain that to Kili's mother.

Dis glared at the she-elf, hands on her hips and her eyes nearly glowing with irate temper. "You are not upset that he is not here to greet you as you are rescued?"

Tauriel looked up in true surprise. "Upset? He is doing his duty as a Prince of Erebor, I would expect no less of him. Also, how was he to know where I was located or in need of rescue?"

Dis made a sound that could mean anything, but spoke no further.

A creaking noise had Tauriel's green eyes narrowing as she eyed the pulley. "I really don't like that sound of that."

"Nor I." One of the rescue party dwarves frowned. "You have a good ear. I'm going to replace that pulley as soon as we get this dwarrow up here. We only have one more to go after him."

"And then the rescuers on the lower level ledges." The she-elf nodded thoughtfully, recalling her misgivings on the stability of the two lower levels where there had been pulley systems rigged up on their behalf.

"Indeed."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Sit, sit!"

Erelinde couldn't really make out any of the words people were throwing at her, though she batted at the helpful hands coming her way. Trying to steady her.

Fili? Gone? The dwarrowdam was finding it difficult to breathe. Darkness sort of surrounded her vision, encroaching in toward the middle as things looked like they belonged in a tunnel.

Someone put their arm around her and she tried to jostle them loose, only to find out that it was Brunere and her friend wasn't letting go. Agonized sky-blue eyes met frightened violet ones.

Erelinde took a gasping sort of breath, then shook her head. "Bofur?"

"I don't know. No one seems to know." Her friend said. "He, he told me he'd be with the prince today."

Prince. Fili. Waiting. Erelinde shook her head. "I'm the daughter of a mining engineer. Nothing is certain, news can be wrong." But she was saying this to ease some of the fear in her friend's gaze. Not because she believed it, not deep down.

What Erelinde knew was that loved ones could die. She'd seen it happen and had felt death's sting. She'd decided to come out of her crafting halls and give life a chance, and … it all collapsed. Again. Fili, gone. Her father, no one seemed to know where he was. Suddenly she moaned, her hand tightening on Brunere's good hand. "Lady Dis, she doesn't know."

Oin came around the corner looking harried and preoccupied. He walked right by the two dwarrowdams then stopped and spun, his eyes fair leapt with relief and joy. "Wonderful! Good, come, we need all the hands we can get!"

"I'm down one hand." Brunere said, fighting off her fear the best she could. At first it had been a matter of getting out of the Ozinafkhur. Simple enough, though not an easy task. It wasn't until she and Erelinde had been escorted to the healing halls that she'd started to appreciate the amount of damage done to Erebor.

Erelinde had gasped and started shaking as they'd seen the hallways that were collapsed, or only partially open. Flickering lights had illuminated the scope of the disaster in a profound manner. Fear had taken hold like it hadn't before, not even with the walls and ceilings coming apart all around them.

Brunere had been so sure that Bofur would be waiting for her when she'd come to the top of the safe passageways. Then she'd seen all the damage and had been sure that he was off rescuing others, doing his job heroically. Missing was not something she'd been prepared for. And Prince Fili. If he waited, then what about Bofur? Hadn't they had an assignment together? Today? Or was it yesterday by now?

"Er? What?" Oin gestured for her to follow. "Come, there is much that needs to be done."

Brunere started to move away, but Erelinde shook her head, grabbed her friend's arm and lifted the roughly splinted broken hand so that it was within Oin's line of sight.

Although hard-of-hearing, the dwarf was not blind. Oin immediately frowned and moved to check the splinting work, muttering under his breath.

Erelinde looked around at all the injured. The faces were stoic, trying to ignore pain and grief. That was the dwarrow way. Tears flowed though. Jobs were carried out and duties attended to, but tears did flow. That too was very dwarven. There was no shame in emotion, nor loving ones friends and family.

These were her people. Longbeards. In their home. Once again under attack, though she couldn't get a straight answer about from whom. The word 'goblins' was thrown around, though some were saying Sauron had actually been within the walls of Erebor. The very thought made her nauseous.

These were Fili's people. His kingdom. And even if he were Waiting, she was not going to let him down. So what if she never became queen? It wasn't a title she'd aspired to anyway. But Fili loved Erebor, she knew that, listening to him so often talk about the quest and what it had meant to him.

Grief or no grief, she was going to cry for him. But she was going to do what he no longer could.

Brunere seemed to sense the change in her friend, turning to look at the white-blonde dwarrowdam. "Dwarf-girl?" She said, using the age old nickname from their youth.

"Between us we have three hands and two heads." Erelinde said a bit stiffly as she moved to wash her hands. "Help is needed, and help they are going to get."

Brunere watched her friend with a slightly bemused air even as Oin poked and prodded painfully at her broken hand. "Erelinde?"

But the crafter was focused. Her heart was breaking on the inside, but she wasn't going to let Fili down. "What needs doing first?" She demanded.

Brunere stared, wincing a bit as Oin shifted something in her hand. She looked around at the confusion. "We need lists, organization. The most injured need to be moved toward the back of the hall to the beds. Pallets next. The walking wounded like me can stand or sit as there is availability."

Erelinde set to work with a fury her friend had never seen before.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Almost there." The dwarrow said with a nod of satisfaction that turned into a shocked shout as the metal link holding the pulley in place twisted.

The sound was a little thing, but a sickening one. Tauriel looked up and saw the pin twist and bend and discolor in a way that she knew meant it was about to break. Time slowed, but as fast as her reflexes were, she could not stop the inevitable.

Knowing that, her mind raced. The pulley would break. What next? The rope would fall, rubbing over the ragged edge of the half-crumbled ledge. Would it break?

There were two dwarrow hauling up one of the males that had been trapped with them down below. Was their strength enough?

Tauriel moved like water, leaping down through the hole and catching a rough beam that had not fallen with the stonework of the staircase. She used the momentum to swing toward the side wall, even as she heard shouting from both above and below her.

She was mid-way between the second pulley station and the uppermost level when she came to rest on a short outcropping she'd noticed when she herself had been the one being pulled to safety. Here she braced herself and grabbed the rope.

No sooner had she done so when the metal pin snapped in two. Events happened as she'd thought and there was an immediate drop due to the weight at the end of the line. Then it stopped. The dwarrow above her had held on, but the rope was now rubbing against the ragged and sharp ropes up there.

Yes. A snap. She could feel it on the line. Another. The rope was fraying. Idly she wondered if this bit of rope had been left over from before Smaug. She never got to the end of that random thought before the rope broke several dozen feet above her.

Pain. Tauriel shouted as the rope slid through her hands, tearing and ripping at her palms as she struggled to slow and stop the fall. It wasn't just a question of strength, but of physics, momentum and gravity.

Slowly, the fall slowed, then stopped. Tauriel panted, her eyes squeezed shut in effort. There was still shouting, both above and below. With gargantuan effort she moved slowly, wrapping the excess rope around her slender waist, tying it off the best she could and ignoring the stinging pain of her hands. And the blood on the rope.

As she moved, the dwarrow below her yelled at first, then quieted. A shout from below was answered from one above her.

"Can you climb?"

It took a moment for her to realize the question was directed at her. She thought about it, then rejected the idea. "No. My hands are too slick. I'd never find purchase."

"Can you maintain?"

"Yes."

"I'm coming down." The voice informed her.

Tauriel nodded, though none could see her. What felt like eternity was probably only a half hour at most. She heard him coming first, realizing that the dwarves must have rigged another pulley system. "Good."

"Yes. It is good to see you."

That voice. Green eyes popped open as she stared wide eyed.

Kili was looking right back at her. "My love, you do make life interesting."


	54. In which stones have sisters

His face was nearly entirely cast in shadow with only the faint and flickering lamplight shining down from above. Yet she knew every nuance and beloved line of his face. She knew the straight shape of that nose and the contours of that mouth, the arch of the brows and the lines of his cheeks. She knew the feel of his lips, the warmth of his skin and the pleasantly rough bristle of his facial hair. It was part of her now. From the small, nearly invisible scar near the hairline over his left ear down to the slope of his neck. She loved all of it, every minute detail that made him who he was.

"You are still breathing, I hope?"

His voice cut straight through her quiet reverie and Tauriel took in a deep breath that nearly hurt, so intense was her sense of relief at seeing him alive and apparently uninjured. "You are well?" She asked, winnowing all her worry for hours upon hours into those three deceptively simple words

Kili's mobile lips twisted as he heard the emotional catch in her voice, so uncharacteristic of his she-elf. He smiled, though it did nothing to ease Tauriel's worry. His expression, though dear, looked forced. He let his gaze slide away from hers, raising her uneasiness even as he answered. "Well enough that for once I ride to your rescue, instead of the other way around."

Tauriel didn't smile back, there was something wrong. "I have no need for rescue." She protested in light denial, shifting the weight on one foot in order to test the sturdiness of her perch. A few shards of rock fell down the hole beneath them, pinging off the jagged stones below. "What worries you so?"

One lone eyebrow twitched upwards as Kili nodded knowingly while deliberately ignoring her question. "Good to know you aren't in need, so …I'll just go rescue the poor dwarrow on the end of your leash shall I? You'll allow me that much I hope?" He said nothing more dire than that, but Tauriel knew him. Not just his features, but deeper than she even realized. The pain nearly radiated off of him.

"Kili?"

Dark eyes flicked up to meet her gaze, then back down again. The brunette shook his head mutely at her even while looking away. Whatever it was, he didn't want to speak on the matter, not yet. She knew Dis to be fine, though that left quite a few others to choose from. But two of major importance. "Thorin? Fili?"

The sound of his teeth snapping shut was all the answer needed. Her green eyes closed in stark despair, thinking of the dwarven king. Thorin was perhaps a flawed dwarrow, but one who always seemed to be striving to improve conditions for his people. He might not approve of her, but he had cautiously begun to accept her, and she him. Fili. The golden crown prince. When she'd first begun to get to know the dwarves as separate persons, it had awed and puzzled her how close and caring the two brothers were. As elves in the Mirkwood, they'd always been taught that the dwarves were sour, dumb creatures more caring of gold and gems than all else in the world, even their own families. She now knew that to be false beyond all measure.

And it had all started with a simple carved token stone, and a prison cell. "My love?" She said, offering sympathy with her whole being.

Kili jerked his head upward, exposing his throat as he gave a coarse growl and peered upwards toward those holding the safety lines steady. "My mam is up there. I don't think she knows yet."

Tauriel nodded, though her betrothed wasn't looking at her to see. So she added, "of course."

"I don't believe the news. Not yet. Too much confusion." Kili said through clenched teeth, his voice a whisper. "They haven't found my brother's …." He stalled on the word body. Blinking rapidly, he turned the full force of his gaze upon her. "I do not believe the news to be other than confused rumor."

Tauriel immediately nodded, understanding. Fili. Not Thorin. And this was something reported, but not proven. News. Not something known for sure, not yet. "There is always confusion and misinformation after such things. We will search."

A sharp bark of harsh sound came from Kili as he shook his head at her. "Why I should be surprised, I do not know." He marveled openly at her instant and total support. "Yes. We will search, and we will find him. Alive. In the meantime, I will rescue you first."

Tauriel looked down at the rope tied hastily around her waist. It looked secure, but it was more prudent to be cautious. "Rescue him first."

"It'd be safer on you that way, then I'll be back to get you." Kili agreed with a slight bow of his head, using as little movement as possible to keep his own lines from swaying. "Don't try to climb up, the stones around here are not as stable as they might …." He stopped cold, drawing a questioning look from her. "Turn your head." He demanded in a voice suddenly leached of all warmth.

The wound around her left eye. Apparently he'd not been able to get a good look at first, as she was further into the shadows than he. Now he must have seen the damage. "I am fine." She reassured him quickly.

"Let me see." His voice was tight with tension and worry. "Tauriel?"

Feeling the drag of dead weight upon her, and the slickness of blood on her hands, the she-elf chose not to protest but turned her head obediently. A low moan escaped her prince as he frowned sharply.

"It is stitched and well-tended." Tauriel assured him in a deliberately calm voice and not letting him know of the pain, hiding it from him. "It must look worse than it is."

"If you're done flirting up there, I'd really like to stop dangling here like bait upon a fish hook." Came a shouted call from below them, the voice a deep grumble and accented from the Iron Hills.

Kili groaned and threw a dark look down below him, though he could not make out much of the dwarf still harnessed onto the rope tied around Tauriel's waist. "You're stone!" He shouted downward.

"This stone has a bladder and a need!" Came a sardonic shout.

"Rescue me, love." Tauriel's voice turned soothing as Kili's dark eyes rose to meet hers. "Him first." She glanced down at the rope she'd hastily put around her waist. There was no way she could climb or be pulled up with the dwarrow's dead weight pulling upon her.

Licking his lips, the prince nodded, peering once more at the bruised, torn, and stitched flesh around her eyes. "Beloved, do not move more than necessary. I will soon have his weight free of you."

"I know." The red-head said a bit dryly. "Be cautious. The warning stone you gifted me is still glowing."

Visibly startled, Kili's eyes moved to the stone hanging from the chain around the slim column of her throat. "You're in danger!" He looked around almost frantically, as if measuring her foot placement and security.

The she-elf laughed with self-depreciation. "Perhaps, even if I wear it, it still only warns of danger to you?" It was both a statement and a question.

Now the prince's dark eyes got wider as he grinned widely, seeing that she was as stable as one could hope to be in such a position. "I didn't think of that possibility. We'll have to ask Galadriel." He paused with sudden clarity. "We'll ask her assistance in finding Fili too!"

Now Tauriel startled just slightly, though her betrothed didn't notice as he was adjusting his ropes for descent. Ask Galadriel? Just like that? Casual and familial? As if she weren't one of the most powerful personages in Arda? The Lady of the Golden Wood? Relaxing a bit, the she-elf watched her love grin at her as he blew her a kiss before starting downward.

"To rescue you, it seems I need to rescue a fellow dwarf first."

Not for the first time she pondered the whimsy of fate, that let someone of such high blood on all sides fall in love with a simple Sylvan elf of the Mirkwood. "I love you beyond all measure." She whispered.

Kili immediately looked up at her, his hands hesitating as he stilled. He grinned up at her. "And I you."

"I'll love ye both if you get me up and out of here!" Came an anonymous voice from down below.

Kili frowned as he saluted his betrothed before descending down past where the shadow of broken rocks hid him from view.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis placed a shaky hand on the rock face beside her, holding herself up though the world appeared to be tilting on its axis alarmingly. There was a loud ringing in her ears as she nearly collapsed, only the assistance of a well-meaning dwarrow caught her before she fell. He eased her down onto some broken rocks that were highly uncomfortable. She barely noticed.

"Fili?" She didn't say the word aloud, though her lips formed the name in anguish.

The dwarf from the Iron Hills gave her the saddest eyed look she had received since the notification of Nehili's death so long ago. Gone, to the Halls of the Waiting.

Dis sucked in a large breath, but before any sound could escape her a hand covered her mouth. Shocked, she stared wide-eyed at the unknown dwarrow before her.

"Forgive me, Lady Dis. Princess." He shook his head, stumbling over the proper address now that the royal line was back in control of Erebor. Or what was left of the mountain. "Prince Kili doesn't know his words echo up here, he did not mean to tell you in such a manner."

Dis' blue eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth as if to bite. The hand immediately retreated, though he put his finger in front of his own lips to signal quiet.

"The prince is in a dangerous spot."

This stilled Dis' protest immediately. She nodded as a cold sweat broke out all over her body. Of course. Kili was in a precarious position, trying to bring up others, and Tauriel wasn't braced properly. They didn't even have enough resources to lower her down a safety harness, though a dwarrow had been dispatched for more assistance.

"Fili?"

The male dwarrow pressed and rolled his lips tightly in a mute expression clearly stating he didn't want to tell her bad news. Her hand reached out and caught his shoulder. "Please?"

Nodding reluctantly, the dwarrow explained how Fili had been with the mining engineers down in a recently reopened shaft. One that no longer existed, having been collapsed horribly.

Tears fell unchecked and unapologetic as the mother bit her tongue to keep from wailing at the news. Her first born, son of her beloved husband. The bright star. The pain in her chest was unimaginable as her vision swam momentarily. Fili? Gone? Waiting. Unable to forgive her or take back his repudiation of her. Nothing left inside her but an aching void. Fili …waithing. Kili being stolen by the elves. What did they name him? Kuilaith? Married to Tauriel? Dis shook her head, steel invading her spine as she straightened, wiping away her tears.

The dwarrow gave her an uncertain, yet proud look. "We are stone." He reassured her. "And we still have prince Kili."

Prince. Dis dried the tears off her cheeks, though her eyes still leaked without her permission. "Prince Kili." She repeated, her heart soaring to hear that title along with that name. The dwarrow weren't going to abandon Durin's Line just because it wasn't pure blood.

Her blue eyes moved to the other dwarrow, the ones conferring and peering down into the dark hole into which her remaining son had descended. Terror threatened her senses, but she was a princess of Erebor and made of stern stuff. She lifted her chin and ignored all attempts to send her off to the healing halls.

She would wait here, for Kili. Her mouth flattened as she thought of Tauriel. The elf was strong, resourceful, and not at all as the dwarrowdam might have thought. But she was NOT going to be queen of Erebor.

Now that Kili was the sole heir, this nonsense of marrying him off to a she-elf would have to end once and for all.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dain groaned and rolled his neck. He stank. They all stank. It was over a day since the attack by the foul Saruman had nearly brought down Erebor. No rest and meager rations. The kitchens were a mess. Food stores were buried in some cases, destroyed in others.

"The goblins have lost significant ground."

Dain slid his eyes to the side without turning his head. Dwalin's profile was stoic and reassuring. He grunted in agreement.

"They will lose more than just ground." This voice was almost a purr, yet no less a threat.

Dain didn't bother to look to the other side, knowing he'd find the taller form of Glorfindel. It wasn't right. The elf looked elegant in his stance, almost lazy with a gleam in his eyes that belonged to a much younger male. Yet on the battlefield he'd been a sight to behold, moving like water through the goblin ranks, leaving a trail of bloodshed behind. Someone to definitely have on your side.

"Men." Dain pointed to one side of the view laid out before them all. He pointed to the other side. "Elves."

"And us." Dwalin finished with a rumble of his deep voice.

"Common enemy." Glorfindel said smoothly.

Dwalin's brow furrowed and he sighed almost unhappily. "To think I'd live to see this day."

Dain snorted in agreement. He twirled his great axe expertly, his head unbent, even by fatigue.

"How do you think I feel? And I've lived much longer. Twice." Glorfindel smiled appeared almost feral.

The two dwarrow shared a look of consternation and resignation. Dwalin snorted finally, giving a half-smile. "If you feel as bad as you smell, then I offer my sympathy."

Glorfindel drew up sharply with a sudden hiss, giving a small sniff and wrinkling the smooth skin of his nose in reaction.

"We smell of honest labor, and goblin blood." Dwalin added to Dain's amusement. "You? You smell like rotten potatoes."

"Wormy things." Dain added.

"Maybe some beet tops gone off, or soured milk." Dwalin nodded thoughtfully, recalling how the usually fastidious elf had been sharing a horse during the initial melee with Radagast the Brown.

Dain's smile disappeared thoughtfully. "Do we trust these other wizards?"

"I do." Glorfindel said, his voice a bit tight. Then he scowled. "Do not say that I trusted the last one as well. For I know that already."

"Gandalf could have destroyed us a hundred times over on the quest. And he saved us just as often." Dwalin frowned deeply, looking as troubled as he felt. "Radagast? He ….he seems more fond of the birds, rabbits and other beasties than he does with power or any such."

A rustle from behind had them all looking as Gloin came bristling up beside them, passing them without stopping.

Dwalin whistled sharply and the red-bearded merchant turned, hesitating. "News?"

"Fili waits. Or not. That elf lady says he lives, but no one has been able to find him." Gloin's voice was devoid of inflection, almost a dead thing all on its own. "Bombur saved two of the large smelters and managed to divert the molten ore from the others to uninhabited portions of the mountain."

"That's good at least." Glorfindel offered, seemingly relieved to hear that his friend Bombur was alive.

"We have too little food, it is winter with worse weather coming, and Mordor is casting his vile shadow over us all. But yes, we have two large smelters so all is well." Gloin said bitingly, his nearly feverish gaze nearly boring a hole right through the elven warrior.

Dwalin visibly flinched around the eyes, otherwise he showed nothing. "We will sing for her."

"Do you think that is my only concern?" Roared Gloin, going from dead calm to burning hot rage in under a second. "All we came here to accomplish, all we risked, all we gave up, and we find that the enemy is NOT the dragon but one we would have called friend? I am not the only one with lost loved ones."

Dain barely blinked as Gloin pointed at him. "The dam his eyes were upon is still unaccounted for. Nori cannot locate the other lass either. Fili and Bofur are probably waiting no matter what some jumped up she-elf has to say. And while we will win this day? What about the rest of the days? Do you think Mordor will let us lick our wounds? How long will our alliances last with the Mirkwood or Dale if they have to save us time and time again?"

Silence filled the air around them as Gloin breathed hard and viciously.

Finally Dain gave a short nod at his distant cousin, catching his gaze with his own. "That jumped up she-elf saved this mountain from complete collapse, saving more than just dwarrow lives, but this alliance as well. I do not fear the Halls of the Waiting. And if Calbrinia or any other Waits for me, I will sing for them. And I will do what I can to bring down Mordor and any that vile thing throws at us."

Gloin opened his mouth to speak.

Dain stepped forward deliberately and with fury. "No! I will not sing for Fili or any other until I know for damned sure! I don't know who is against us, and I don't know who I can and cannot trust. But I do know that the Lady of the Wood stands with us. She's proven that to this thick hided dwarf at least." He thumped his own chest strongly.

"And Gandalf stands with us as well." Dwalin added firmly. "As well as the badly aromatic warrior standing right there." He cocked his head to the side, drawing a surprised look of mixed pleasure and disgust from Glorfindel.

"Do we have you?" Dain asked with blunt demand. "Do we have you, cousin?"

Gloin's nostrils flared as his head rose, hesitating before finally giving a choking kind of nod. Once.

Dain twirled his great axe again, moving up besides Gloin. "Then let's not let the blood of goblins walk away from here. Let it soak the ground beneath their feet."

"They try to take Erebor? Let it be that they never leave." This from Glorfindel, which drew vastly differing looks from each of the male dwarrow.

Dwalin nodded approvingly while Dain grinned widely, baring his teeth with happy menace. Gloin stared, then looked back on the goblin forces caught between three armies. He growled, and took the lead, with the others following behind.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Brunere ignored the dull throbbing in her broken hand. Oin had reset the bones efficiently, but she'd not taken the herbs he'd given her for the pain. Instead she'd given them to a dwarrow with a crushed knee when the older healer hadn't been looking.

It's not like she was doing anything noble. It would have been beneath her dwarven upbringing to complain when there were others worse off. Besides, she needed the pain. She needed something to take her mind off the missing.

A groan escaped her patient as she struggled to make her fingers work properly. Suddenly long slender hands came over and around her, stopping her movements. Nuluin. "I'm fine." She hurried to say reassuringly as those hands untangled the bandages and smoothed them gently.

"Let me." The voice was lilting and sweet, not the more masculine tenor of the elvish healer.

Surprised, Brunere relinquished her hold on the torn fabrics they were using as bandages. She ducked out from under the she-elf's arm as Arwen moved closer. The dwarrowdam knew who the brunette was, of course, but had never really spoken with her directly.

"Pray, don't go." The elf said as Brunere hesitated. "You'll need to tell me what to do."

The violet eyed dam sniffed at the generosity of the words, but shook her head. "You've got healing skills, and you are far more practiced in them than I." She said in clear reference to the disparity in their ages, despite the youthfulness of the she-elf's face.

"But you are more aware of dwarrow needs, injuries, and the like." Arwen countered. "None of the dwarves I've tended will dare to complain of pain. What kind of doses does he need?"

"Ah." Brunere nodded, catching Arwen's meaning and recognizing the importance as being real. The two worked companionably for a time until the dwarven patient was properly medicated and tended.

"Are you sure those bruises on his chest don't mean bleeding on the inside?" The she-elf asked as they moved on to the next bed.

"No." The dwarrowdam smiled tiredly. "But Nuluin assured us not before he took Menhalk back for a more serious injury."

"Ah." Arwen nodded in understanding, reaching for the bandages that Brunere was unrolling for her, applying a thick salve before placing it on the deep lacerations of a dour-faced dwarrow. The dwarf in question hissed from the pain, but made no further complaint. "Just a question, and no harm intended, but are dwarves this stoic and silent with injuries in general, or is it my presence putting a damper on things?"

Brunere gave a surprised little laugh and shook her head at the dwarrow who was frowning so hard. "It's you. You confuse them."

"Confuse?" Arwen asked, a bit taken aback.

Brunere dismissed the dwarrow, who gingerly moved away from the two females. "All the talk is about how the elves saved Erebor, keeping us alive. This is not how we are used to thinking about your race."

The she-elf stared for a second and then smiled a bit sadly. "I was thinking it was because I was a female and they didn't want to appear weak."

"Perhaps, but it's more than that." The violet-eyed dam admitted. "There is a shift going on right now. A change in the way those here will ever look at Elves. We don't befriend outsiders easily, but once offered, our friendships go deep."

Arwen nodded and gestured for the next patient to be brought over to the table. This was an injured jaw, with the gleam of bone through the blood matted beard. "This is beyond me." She admitted ruefully. "I would refer him to another healer."

"I too." Brunere sighed, leaning in to inspect the wound clinically. "But the other healers are dealing with even worse injuries. Come, we can clean this and get a better idea of what we are dealing with."

Arwen nodded, heading for the fires for clean hot water even as she heard Brunere ask the dwarf and his friend who'd assisted him over about someone. She saw the dwarrowdam's disappointment at the negative response. Upon returning the two began working, taking their time to be as gentle as possible.

"Were you asking about your suitor?" Arwen asked, having seen the dam walking besides dwarves before, in the halls. "Do you not yet have word? What did you call him? Brorgic?"

Brunere bit her lip and shook her head. "Brorgic Grimbasher. My father."

Arwen's eyes filled with immediate concern and regret. "I'm so sorry, but please, do not give up hope."

"The she-elf is correct, just because we don't know does not mean he is injured or worse." The second dwarrow spoke up, giving a rather shy smile to Lady Arwen. "The elves saved most today, we will celebrate each life spared and sing for our loved ones Waiting."

Brunere gave a weak smile, but nodded gratefully. "My father is strong, he would not wish me to worry. We are stone."

"We are stone." The second dwarf agreed, while the injured one flashed a quick hand sign of support. "You have been seen walking with Tresik among others." He asked without asking.

The violet eyed dwarrowdam blushed slightly but smiled gamely. "I have had word that he is with the troops outside, with Lord Dain."

Both dwarrow grunted in approval, pleased to hear that bit of good news at least.

"And Bofur?" Arwen asked, her breath catching as Brunere's gaze dropped. "I know you've been walking with him as well."

"I …do not know. He was to be with Prince Fili today." The dam's voice was barely above that of a whisper, worry clear in her tone.

The she-elf watched, puzzled, as the dwarves offered sympathy and songs to be sung later. Ale lifted to those waiting. "I don't understand these traditions. What do you mean that they wait?"

"They Wait, Lady." The uninjured dwarrow explained. "In the Halls of the Waiting." He added when it was clear that the she-elf didn't fully comprehend what he was trying to say. "They are no longer alive." He said starkly, but not unkindly.

Arwen shook her head. "I thought you meant they were waiting to be rescued! Have you not heard? Lady Galadriel has told King Thorin she feels that Fili still lives."

Both male dwarrow stared at her, as if trying to judge her veracity. Perhaps even her sanity. Brunere sucked in a shocked breath, her hand, her injured one at that, clutching Arwen's arm.

The she-elf felt their desperate need, tears forming in her eyes but not falling. "I assure you, it was several hours ago. Perhaps yesterday even, but Galadriel said that Fili's line was unsevered. I do not know about anyone else."

The two dwarves looked at each other, hope warring with grief. "The Tigett collapsed completely." Protested the one without the jaw injury. "No survivors."

"But just because they were assigned there earlier, doesn't mean that Prince Fili wasn't called away." Brunere added breathlessly.

"Possible. Maybe even probable." The dwarf countered. "But then, where is he? Trapped?"

"And in what condition? He was alive hours ago, is he still?" Brunere bit her lip. "He needs to be found." She didn't mention Bofur, but in her heart she wished that wherever he was, it was with the prince. There was a deep bond there she knew from long conversations with the Company member.

"How? How can they be located?"

All eyes turned to Lady Arwen with burgeoning excitement and raw hope. She threw up her hands in surrender. "I have no clue how to do such."

"The Witch …er, Lady …the Lady of the Golden Wood?" The dwarrow asked with far more politeness in her title than he'd ever used before. "Could she?"

"If she could, she would have already." Arwen swore with great surety.

Shoulders slumped even as minds raced trying to find ideas.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

There was utter silence other than a terse command here and there, until the last dwarrow to ascend put his foot on solid rock. Smiles bloomed amid the darkness of beards. Kili beamed back at them, his arms wrapped around a taller form, red hair streaming down between them. Beads in her hair catching the light even as each rescued dwarrow approached to touch her lightly on the shoulder. Too lightly, as if they were unsure of her reaction.

Sensing the tentative approaches, Tauriel offered them a small smile. Nothing too large, but definitely heart-felt. Several of the dwarves relaxed a bit, going so far as to nod at her.

"Well done." The sole dwarrowdam said briskly, uncomfortable with the growing ease between the elf and the dwarves. "Now. Prince Kili, if you would be so kind as to escort your mam back to your uncle?"

The brunette looked over at his mother and gave her a fond look, opening his arms to her. Dis hurried to him, wrapping him in her embrace, burying her head in his shoulder for a moment.

Kili hugged his mam, whispering at how grateful he was that she was safe. Then he caught sight of someone else, and he disentangled himself as he offered sympathy. "Cousin Gimli, I am so sorry to hear of your loss. It is a loss for all. I have stories to tell of your mam."

Dis had no choice but to back away, though she was relieved it was for Kili to approach Gimli, not that she-elf. He looked so young, too young. Dis stretched out her hand to him, which Gimli took gratefully.

She watched as the younger dwarrow swallowed uncomfortably, but bobbed his head in acknowledgement, to her, and then to Kili. He gave a brave smile. "I appreciate being pulled up from the ledge down there, at least I wasn't the one left a-dangling."

A few chuckles filled the area while a dwarf with a salt-and-pepper beard bowed his head in fake bashfulness, shaking his hands at those around him. He placed one of those hands over his heart and dipped his head in respect. "Miss Tauriel, I am Hendric, son of Edric and I thank ye for not dropping my sorry arse."

"Don't say arse to a dwarrowdam, I mean to a lass." Another dwarf grinned ingratiatingly and laughed. "Ah, it's a better tune now that the prince pulled you up out of that place anyway." He scoffed. "While we were below all we could hear was you squealing like a piglet catching the scent of warg."

Tauriel nodded, recognizing a ploy to change the subject to something lighter though she was unsure of the moment. "I heard no squealing." She asserted, thinking to support the dwarf in question.

"Aw." The other dwarrow seemed disappointed, while Kili caught the she-elf's eye and winked at her. Oh, she must of mistaken the conversation. Taking the cue, Tauriel lifted her chin and hoped she wasn't making a mistake. "It sounded more like complaining to me, with a bit of whining."

Sudden loud laughter filled the chamber as even the rescued dwarrow cheered. The she-elf smiled sadly, guessing she'd said the right thing at least. It wasn't too far different than the barracks back in the Mirkwood, though the elves would never admit to such.

"Good, good." Dis smiled at all, though she never seemed to be facing the she-elf. Probably by design, Tauriel mused. "Come, son."

"Hold! She's bleeding cousin." Gimli sounded concerned, pointing at the red-head.

Kili nodded and looked up in immediate concern, tracing the lines of the injury to Tauriel's eye. And though he saw no fresh blood, the bruising was darkly frightening to him as were the stitches in her usually fair skin. "We'll need to get the healers to look at that proper, love."

"No, her hands." Gimli boldly grabbed Tauriel's wrist in a surprisingly gentle hold. Turning her hand palm up so everyone could see. All the dwarves nodded as they finally got a look at the damage that the ropes had done to her hands when she'd been trying to keep hold.

"Tauriel?" Kili looked sick at the damage, though she knew it was nothing but superficial. Still, she drew back as he tried to inspect the wounds, finding it surprisingly painful now that the danger appeared to be past.

An older dwarf spat to the side, nodding. "If she's in pain, that'd be a goodly sign. No nerve damage then." He paused, tilting his head like a small bird. "If'n elves are like us, that is."

"Get her to the healers, lad." A sharp look from Dis had the dwarrow amending that to, "er … Prince Kili."

Lady Dis nearly choked, wanting to scream. She wasn't terribly upset about the Iron Hills dwarf calling Kili a lad. It was because she was trying to separate him from the red head, so they could speak, not put them closer together.

"Mam? Please, allow Gimli to escort you to Thorin. I've got to …"

"Any one of these can take …her …to the healing halls." Dis snapped, interrupting rudely.

Kili looked up, an arrested and nearly frozen expression on his face. One of surprise and bewilderment. "Mam?"

This wasn't like her. It didn't even sound like her, yet Dis couldn't seem to help herself. "If she has to be escorted like a child, fine, we'll all go. Then you can take me to the king." Dis said, sounding waspish, even to her own ears. "We need to speak."

Kili nodded at her, even as he mentally rearranged some plans. "What I was going to say is that I have to go down to …I have ….oh, damn." His face paled as he realized he hadn't spoken to his mam yet about Fili. He licked his lips. "Mam? Fili has not …he …I have to search for him. I would be grateful if you would take Tauriel through to the healers before going on to the main halls."

Dis drew up, licking her lips as she tried to steady herself mentally. Tears threatened her yet again as she nodded toward her son. "I know about Fili. He Waits now, and we will grieve later. But you and I have to get to Thorin, you are his heir. He needs you now above any other time. You are the crown prince."

"Not yet, I'm not!" Kili's voice rose, not with anger but with complete and utter denial. "Fili does NOT wait. And I will find him!"

Dis about melted on the spot, seeing the anguish in her youngest's eyes. "Oh Kili. I don't want it to be true either. And we won't give up searching, not now, not ever. He's my son too." Her voice cracked on the last line, remembering how Fili himself had distanced himself from her, denying their relationship. "I'm not saying we don't search, but you are needed!"

"She's right." Unexpectedly it was Tauriel who spoke up in the dwarrowdam's defense. "We can look for Fili, but you are needed now. Thorin will need you, and you can find out where has been searched already, it will help to aid is in locating Prince Fili."

Kili stared deeply into Tauriel's green eyes, catching the scent of her hope and he nodded, grinning widely. "We will find him."

"We will." The she-elf asserted. Though she had her doubts about what they'd find, she knew that Kili would never give up. And she would be with him at every step.

"I've got the ladies." Gimli assured his older cousin. "You get to Thorin, we will follow as soon as the healers look at your betrothed."

"Thank you, cousin." Kili and Gimli both leaned in, touching foreheads familiarly. The prince put his hand on the other's shoulder, squeezing in comfort. "We will sing for your mam. Such songs we will sing!"

Dis watched in disbelief, watching her child move off and leaving her with the red-head. That had not gone as it should have. Then again, nothing about this day had. Fili. The name brought pain to her heart as she struggled to move past her grief and focus on what was in front of her.

Tauriel moved up beside her, and the two females glanced at each other. The glance turned to a look, and that look intensified until their gazes locked. Blue eyes accusing, and green eyes giving away nothing.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

King Thranduil ignored the cries and squeals of the dying, knowing his healers would be out among the survivors. Seeing to the Men and Dwarves as well as any injured elf.

The goblins were given mercy. Which was better than what those foul creatures would have done if their positions were reversed.

He moved across the battlefield with all the grace of a dancer, sure-footed and letting none of the foulness to besmirch his boots though he did not look like he was stepping carefully. Confidence radiated off the elven monarch as he approached the Dwarves.

"He looks so fancy." Dain sneered.

"Don't let him hear you say that." Glorfindel counseled.

"Why? Would his delicate feelings be injured?" The dwarf scoffed.

"No." The golden haired warrior smiled lazily. "His ego would be fed."

Dwalin laughed and nodded, while Dain smiled grimly but said nothing further. "King Bard comes as well."

Dain turned his head slightly and nodded, seeing the Human on horseback riding up to them. He wasn't alone. The figures weren't tall though, not on those horses. "He's got dwarves with him."

Dwalin peered over in that direction, nodding his agreement. "Probably Nori and the staff from his inn."

Dain was staring, trying to reconcile the shapes with those he knew. It took a moment but he began grinning. "That's Calbrinia's armor, I'm sure of it."

Dwalin turned to stare full on, running a hand over his bald head as he watched. "Well, I don't know about that, but that is not Nori I would bet on it."

Only Dain wasn't there to hear, having turned toward the approaching humans and shortening the distance between them. Dwalin followed naturally. Glorfindel shot a glance at Thranduil, laughed, and turned his back to the elven monarch and trailed after the departing dwarves.

Thranduil's pace slowed, but he did not detour in order to follow. His eyes found the dwarves path and he scowled to see them moving to welcome the Men of Dale. He decided that he was not going to play dutiful and play at being a follower. He approached where everyone had originally been standing and stopped there. They could return to him, not the other way around.

"Calbrinia!" Dain roared out the name in welcome, as the battle-maid in question slid from her mount. She grabbed the reins and walked up to greet the leader from the Iron Hills. He could see that she'd seen some of the fighting.

Her weapons were not yet cleaned of all gore and blood, but she moved freely enough to show herself uninjured.

"Lass, lass!" Dain beamed at her in welcome, her smile matching his.

"We were in Dale. Whatever mess have you called up?" Calbrinia waved her hand as if to gesture to the entirety of the goblin army, or what was left of the few remaining.

Dain's smile dimmed as he nodded. "There is much to tell, much to discuss." He looked up as King Bard of Dale rode up. "It would be better to speak with both you and King Thranduil at one time, save me from having to speak on ill things too often."

Bard's eyebrows rose as he dismissed the lightness of Dain's tone, with the seriously angry expressions held tight in the eyes of all those of Erebor. Whatever had happened, it was not trivial. He nodded his head back the way toward Erebor. "Thanduil awaits."

"Well, now. That's a problem." Dain groused. "I won't be seen going to him like a supplicant."

Glorfindel sighed and barely resisted rolling his eyes. "Then how about we all ride into Erebor and as we pass Thranduil he can join us. You're not going to him, you are returning to King Thorin."

Dain blinked, glanced sourly at the elf and then chuckling in self-depreciation. "It will have to do."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"SEALYN!"

The dwarrowdam looked up, startled. She paused in passing out the bowl of hot soup and then smiled in relief to spy Brunere hurrying toward her.

"Where have you been?!" The violet-eyed Brunere nearly wept as she reached her dear friend. "We have been so worried!"

"Who is we?" Sealyn asked, nearly desperate for news. "Please. I haven't been privy to all that's happened."

Brunere drew back, a bit stunned. Her friend didn't look like she'd been trapped for over a day beneath the mountain. In fact, she looked pretty damned good.

The inky-haired dam shook her head and dipped out another bowl of soup, handing it and a hunk of crusty bread to the next dwarf in line. "I was in Dale, I took Calbrinia to meet Nori. Only, he wasn't there. I wanted her opinion of him."

Brunere nodded slowly as what must have happened dawned on her. Knowing Sealyn had been having issues with Nori and his arguments with King Thorin, she wanted reassurance. She was attracted, deeply so, but his actions and reputation were not quite up to snuff. Yet, Brunere knew that her friend felt there was more to the story, though the dwarf himself would never say. Calbrinia was the best judge of dwarrows that they knew, so of course she'd take their friend into Dale.

"We heard the rumbling, saw the smoke and …well." Sealyn shrugged, pushing an errant bit of curl back behind her ear from where it had escaped her braids. "Calbrinia immediately offered to ride with King Bard."

"Of course."

Sealyn leaned in conspiratorially, even as she passed out more soup and bread. "I think he mistook her for a lad, and I know for a fact that she let him."

"So she'd be allowed to fight." Brunere nodded, knowing their friend well. They'd been raised around Human habitats, and knew that Men didn't treat their woman as warriors. Sometimes they saw females as completely lesser, which confused the dwarrow sensibility to no end.

Sealyn plucked ruefully at her skirts, showing there had been no chance for her to pass as male. She'd worn them for Nori's benefit, though he'd not proven to be home. She frowned. "I haven't heard about his well-being."

"Nor I, but Erelinde might have. She is coordinating lists of those that now Wait." Brunere shuddered.

"You're hurt." Sealyn frowned at her friend's splinted and bandaged appendage.

The violet-eyed dam shrugged off the injury as of little consequence. "There are worse off here." Truthfully Oin had spied her using her hand against his wishes and he'd splinted far more stringently than might have been necessary. Just to keep her from using it.

"What? Who? Who is worse off?"

Brunere sighed, pulled back to the here and now. She looked down at her feet as she spoke. "My father for one, I have had no word."

Sealyn's gasp and quick embrace both helped and hurt. The support was wonderful and warming, but it threatened Brunere's resolve and she could feel grief and despair waiting for her, ready to swamp her at any moment.

"Prince Fili …."

"No!" Came the shocked gasp as Sealyn pulled back, staring.

"They say he might wait, but there is a chance he lives but is trapped somewhere. That golden she-elf, she claims he does not yet wait." She paused heavily, then sighed. "Bofur might be with him, or not."

"They will be found." Asserted Sealyn as a dwarrow waved at her, asking for some food. She apologized quickly, dishing out the hot meal with some more of the fresh bread.

Brunere suddenly drew in a hissing sound, pointing at her friend. "The kitchens were hard hit, how did you ….?"

Sealyn blushed heavily. "I pressed Nori's staff, since he wasn't there. Brought all I could scrounge or buy in Dale on short notice. He might take offense at me giving away his goods." If he was alright.

"Or he might ask you for a hug and be done with it."

Both dams spun, finding a grinning Nori standing there, a lopsided almost goofy smile on his face. His eyes were solely upon Sealyn.

The dark-haired dam nearly dropped the next soup bowl, leaving her friend to catch and right it as she threw her arms around Nori. He did not return the favor, not with both arms. Immediately worried, Sealyn pulled back, pushing aside his heavy leather cloak. She moaned as she saw his arm bound to his side so tightly.

"I'm fine." Nori reassured her, only to find himself tightly held once more. He held stiff for a moment, then about melted into her embrace as she muttered his name over and over again.

Brunere smiled and nudged her friend out the way with her hip as she started passing out the soup to the smiling, but hungry, dwarves.

"That is good to see."

Brunere looked up, smiling to see Tauriel moving up next in line. She eyed her elven friend's freshly bandaged eye and her hands. The dam flashed the red-head an irritated look. "When I left you, your hands were fine. Did Lady Dis attack you after we left?"

Tauriel did not smile, but her visible green eye lit up a bit at the thought. "No."

"The danger seems to have passed, though we still don't know if your stone's warning is for you or Kili." The dam pointed at the necklace, now quiescent and no longer glowing.

"The goblin army is no more, scattered or dead." Nori sighed happily, rubbing his chin on the top of Sealyn's braids in a most proprietary manner. "Now we look to find our own, heal our wounds."

"I'm so glad you chanced upon me." Sealyn held onto him tightly.

Nori chuckled. "Chance had little to do with it. I heard you had arrived and I volunteered to bring back lists of those found so far, knowing you were here."

Sealyn nodded, rubbing her cheek against his unbandaged shoulder. "Have you news of Brunere's father?"

"Grimbasher? He was injured, but being tended to in the main hall." Nori apologized to Sealyn as he leaned forward to hand a sheaf of papers to Brunere.

The violet-eyed dam made a squealing sort of noise, eagerly running her eyes down the lists written in dwarvish runes. She grinned and nodded, looking up at Tauriel in delight. "He's found, he's found!"

"What about Fili and Bofur?" Tauriel rushed to ask. "Kili does not believe they are Waiting. He refuses."

"And with good reason." Brunere smiled more easily than she had for over a day. "That Galadriel she-elf? She claims Fili yet lives. I choose to believe her. Don't you?"

Tauriel drew back, a stunned expression on her face.

Brunere's expression faded a bit around the edges. "You did not know?"

The red-head shook her head, then looked around the room. "We have to let Lady Dis know."

"She does know already." Brunere hesitated, then shrugged helplessly as she explained. "I saw her questioning Lady Arwen on it before she went in search of King Thorin in the main halls."

"She did not tell you." Nori guessed, his voice unreadable, but he did not look nearly as relaxed as he had but a moment ago.

Tauriel hesitated, but could not lie when the truth was so evident. She forced a smile. "I was being tended to by Nuluin, and she was most likely in a hurry to reach Thorin and Kili."

Tellingly, none of the dwarves said a disparaging word about Dis or her actions. Equally as telling, though, none of them looked happy on the matter, nor did they offer any words excusing the dam.

"At least the immediate danger is past." Nori pointed at Tauriel's signal stone necklace, now just an ordinary rock. "Amazing thing, how does it know danger from happenstance? Does it read evil intentions or does it include natural dangers? Would it glow before a lightning strike or not? Or if the horse you're about to mount has a lame foot and may throw you?"

Brunere shrugged. "Actually, while we were trapped we weren't sure if the glow was for Tauriel in immediate danger …or if it glowed because Kili was in danger elsewhere. Because it was gifted to him originally. Very frustrating for Tauriel."

Nori nodded as he started to frown, then he simply froze, his eyes glued to the stone. "Fili has one of those. One just like this one." He said in a monotone voice.

Tauriel's hand went to the simple caged-stone necklace. She would have wrapped her fingers about it, if they didn't ache so badly. Not that she'd ever complain aloud.

"Can elf magic …" Nori pointed at the stone in question. "Can the two stones find each other?"

Sealyn pulled back, she was the gem cutter among them. The only one here with any experience working with the shaping of stones, though she was no master. "What are you thinking? Sister stones?"

Tauriel looked down at her hand, and the non-glowing stone cupped there, the chain hanging down between her hand and her neck. "I know nothing of such magics."

"You have to! You're an elf!" Brunere pointed out helpfully.

"The wrong kind of elf!" Tauriel replied, licking her lips uneasily.

"Who is the right kind of elf? Galadriel? We don't know where she is at the moment." Nori ran an agitated hand over his beard.

"Arwen." Brunere looked around, but could not see the tall elf. "I can go look for her."

"LADY ARWEN?" Nori roared at the top of his lungs.

All three of the females turned to glare at him.

"We're in a hurry." Nori said as a sort-of apology.

The she-elf in question hurried over toward them, a quizzical expression on her face. "Is there a problem?"

Nori rolled his head, cracking his neck loudly. He took a deep breath, then sighed. "Bear with us, we're not even sure how to ask this."

Arwen looked worried. "Is aught the matter?"

Tauriel held up the cupped stone, plainly evident against the pristine white bandages on her hands. When Arwen looked sympathetic, the red-head shook her head almost violently. "No, never mind my hands. The stone. It's High Elf magic, yes?"

Arwen stared at the Sylvan elf without answering, not quite sure what was being asked actually.

"Please, we're not asking for secrets. But can this stone in any way be made to lead us to the other stone?" Tauriel asked.

"The one Fili wears." Brunere supplied, feeling their point wasn't being made quite fast enough.

Understanding dawned, and then Arwen neatly winced and shook her head. "The magics in that are beyond me. But they are very specific. They'd have to be in order to work. Otherwise it would glow if the weather outside turned slightly stormy."

"I knew it." Nori muttered, though he looked less than happy.

"Wait." Tauriel turned to Sealyn. "You said something about sister stones? What is that?"

"Dwarven magic." Nori replied, not explaining further any more than Arwen had.

Sealyn looked terribly sad as she apologized. "It just wouldn't work. The stones would have to come from the same rockface."

"And if they do?" Tauriel asked hopefully.

The inky-haired dam shook her head. "No. This is essentially one big mine. There are thousands, hundreds of thousands of rocks all from the same sources. We would never be able to match one to the other. Erebor is too big."

"Damn." Nori muttered.

Arwen though, looked suddenly intrigued. "But …these two stones didn't come from inside Erebor. Would that make a difference?"

Sealyn's head came up rather sharpish. "Not from inside the mine? Why would the Golden Lady want to go outside of Erebor for rocks when ….well, we have a lot of them here. Every size, every shape."

"Size and shape are meaningless." Arwen tried to explain. "Those here are without light."

Nori and the other dwarves stiffened a bit. Arwen noticed and hurried to explain. "I don't mean dark as in bad or evil. I mean elvish magic deals with light. The rocks used would have had to absorb light. Years of light. Sunlight, moonlight, and starlight."

Nori nodded thoughtfully. "So, she would have had to have gathered them from somewhere outside. Meaning, there wouldn't be another sister-stone to them inside Erebor."

"What if the Lady gathered them from two different places? What if they were weathered from two different rockfaces?" Sealyn nearly wailed.

"What if they weren't?" Tauriel stepped forward, looking down into her friend's eyes. "Dwarven magic. Can someone use this stone in order to locate Fili's stone?"

Sealyn closed her eyes and shuddered. "Maybe, but …I've never …I've seen it done. Once. It's an old trick, nothing big, and fairly useless except in trying to discover the best ore veins. We haven't needed it in the smaller mines."

"We have to try." Tauriel said quietly, looking at each of them as she spoke.

No one disagreed.

"We need someone more experienced than I." Sealyn protested.

"We have Dain's warriors. We have elves. We have textile crafters. What we don't have is time, or gem cutters. But for you." Nori's voice softened on the last word. "Please."

"Please." Tauriel and Arwen both stared at the pretty dwarrowdam, nearly pleading.

Sealyn hesitated, then nodded. "I will need some things. Preparations."

"I'll go get Erelinde." The red-head offered.

Sealyn shook her head quickly. "Not until we know it worked. I don't want her hopes up only to dash them. Wait. Has anyone told Erelinde that Fili might not be Waiting?"

"I did not know until just a moment ago." Tauriel looked to the Lady Arwen, who shook her head.

"I have not seen her." The brunette she-elf said apologetically.

"Well, we can't count on Dis having told her." Brunere nodded toward Sealyn. "Go. Get ready. We'll go get Erelinde. She deserves to be in on this, even if it doesn't work."

"It'll work. It has to work." Tauriel ignored the pain in her fingers, wrapping them tightly around the stone resting there.

"Actually. I'll need that." Sealyn pointed at the stone with a wry expression.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone know if hydrogen peroxide works on plot bunny bites?


	55. In which no one can sleep

"You need to eat something."

Thorin didn't register the words at first, blinking his over-dry eyes as he looked up. Momentarily still lost in his thoughts it took a second to focus on who was interrupting him. Tired lines, kindly eyes, and a white beard that was less than perfectly groomed. Balin. Thorin blinked, trying to clear his thoughts. "Do I look as bad as you?"

"No." Balin didn't smile, but his tension did seem to ease for a moment.

Thorin eyed his friend and advisor, not liking the concern he saw reflected in those eyes. Concern for him, and not just for Erebor as a whole. The king straightened slowly, frowning as aches long ignored started to become known. He was far too young to be hearing those creaking noises from his joints. Ill-tempered and weary beyond telling, he barely resisted the urge to snap. "What time is it?"

"Time?" Balin scoffed, then shrugged as if to indicate the question to be pointless. "A day and possibly a half since the initial assault."

Thirty-six hours? Thorin nodded to show he was listening. No wonder he was tired, they all were. "I won't rest until everyone is found, one way or another."

Balin pursed his lips even as he nodded, he'd expected nothing less. "And I would not suggest otherwise, but you should take a bite to eat." He made a gesture toward the king.

For the first time it registered that there was a bowl of soup and some fresh bread on the table that was passing for a new desk at the moment. Thorin frowned thoughtfully. He glanced back up at Balin and quirked an eyebrow in question. He was well aware that the kitchens were basically covered with debris and fall-in, not functional. He waited for the explanation for such a miracle as sat before him.

"Sealyn Heavyaxe was in Dale, when this happened …" Balin waved a hand around himself in general. "She commandeered Nori's kitchens and arrived with much needed food. It's not much, but it will help. Oh, and Calbrinia was with her, they're both well."

Thorin rubbed his forehead anxiously. There was no way the dwarrowdam could have come with enough food to feed everyone within Erebor. "There will not be enough to go around." He commented, even as he picked up the bowl, his stomach growling now that he could smell the food. "Dain should be pleased." He commented a bit dryly though visibly relieved to hear that the lasses were alright.

Balin nodded. "Dain has already ordered cooking fires outside. Rough camp affairs. I had all salvaged food stuffs compiled and what has to be cooked immediately is being seen to right now."

Thorin grunted around a mouthful of bread, it was cold but fresh. The lack of butter or jam was nothing to a hungry dwarf, the food itself was the luxury at the moment. "The Heavyaxe lass did well." He said in praise of her efforts. "Does Nori know she's well?"

"Broken collarbone." Balin said with a quick smile that showed his relief and shaking his head as the king offered him a piece of the bread. "Not a broken head. He knows. Took the first excuse offered to go find her too."

Swallowing the last of his soup, Thorin swiped the crust of his bread inside the bowl to sop up any stray drop. "Food is going to be an issue."

"Nori's kitchens in Dale are going to be a help, but they are inadequate to the vast need. And finding the supplies and food to cook will be another more pressing issue. King Bard had already sent us what they could spare for the winter, the Men were going to be eating lean as well as we, its not going to be easy."

Thorin sighed and nodded. "Hunting and fishing will need to be stepped up. Winter hunting may bring little, but the fishing should still be good." He frowned. "With troops to guard those doing the work."

Balin winced as the king slammed down his bowl hollowly on the table, feeling his frustration. It was a question of personnel. They needed all hands on food supplies. All hands on rescue. All hands on repair. All hands on defense. There simply weren't enough hands for everything that needed doing.

"Ahem."

Both dwarrow turned and the sight there near melted them both. The messenger stepped aside and not even bothering to make a more formal announcement. It certainly wasn't needed. Thorin's face broke into a wide grin as he threw open his arms for his younger sister. Nearly identical blue eyes nearly teared up at the sight of each other.

"Dis." Balin sagged in relief, leaning heavily against the table. "We heard you were in the women's quarters, trapped."

"Was. Rescued." Dis barely got the words out so tightly was her brother holding her. "Thorin!" She protested weakly.

The king kissed the side of her head and pushed her back to peer into her face though he held onto her shoulders. "You are well?" He asked anxiously. "Words around here turn out to be rumor more often than not, though I heard you weren't among the injured?"

"Nothing major." Dis assured her sibling, her eyes bright. "It helped to see Kili and Gimli among those come to our aid." She looked around as if seeking out someone. Someone she didn't find, judging by her slight frown.

Balin blew out a sigh of relief. "I knew of Gimli, but Kili is doing well enough to help out?"

Thorin looked startled, though pleased. After what he'd seen of Kili during the short battle against Saruman he wasn't sure the lad would ever wake, much less be up and about and helping. "He is well? Really well?"

Dis blinked at the intensity of her brother's sapphire stare, then nodded, giving him what comfort she could offer. "Well enough to drop down a hole on a rope and haul up people. He makes a mother proud even as he causes her worry." She smiled a bit palely.

This surprised a rough laugh out of the king, who shook his head in no small wonder. "That lad." He said, pride evident in his face and voice.

Dis frowned as she looked around. "But he should have been here before me. He was on his way here to you while I headed to the healing halls. Did you send him off in search of Fili?"

At those words, Thorin ran his eyes up and down his sister more carefully. "You had to go to the healing halls?"

"Nay, nay, I am fine, I promise." Dis said with an odd note in her voice. "Brunere's hand was broken."

"That is all?" The king asked, seeming unsure of her answer.

Dis blew out a breath of frustration and sighed. "That she-elf hit her head pretty hard, tore up the side of her face a little though the eye seems to be fine. And her hands are rope burned."

Balin and Thorin both frowned. Dis sounded dismissive, but what both knew of the tall red-head did not lend credence to her needing the healing halls. Unless she was injured worse than the telling?

Dis shook her head at them. "She's fine. Brunere and Erelinde tended her face, though the crafter had to put in the stitches. She looked to have done an excellent job though not being a healer."

"Erelinde is well?" Balin asked next, eager for any good news.

But Thorin's voice overrode that of his advisor. "Her hands? How did they get rope burned?" He could not imagine the remarkably agile and graceful she elf having difficulty being pulled up to safety.

"Erelinde is fine." Dis said, ignoring her brother's question and focusing on the other. "I worry over Kili, he was supposed to be here, with you."

Thorin let the moment go, realizing that his sister's feelings on Tauriel were still tender. That would have to be addressed, but today was not the day. He looked around and gestured at the queue of waiting dwarrow and messages. "Any news on either prince?"

One in the back shot his hand up in the air and at the king's gesture pushed his way forward. "Prince Kili and the others were interrupted on their way here by one of Dain's dwarrow, they heard noises. He sent word he's heading toward the lower barracks. Southeast."

Noises. Living persons, trapped. Thorin immediately nodded and thanked the messenger. "That solves where Kili went off to at least." He glanced toward his sister, but was a bit surprised to see anger on her face instead of relief. "Dis?"

"He should be serving at your side."

Balin shook his head at her, a bit befuddled. "The lad is serving, and doing well apparently."

"Here! Without Fili …." Her voice caught, cracked, and then resumed with bone-deep strength. "Kili is your heir."

"Sister." Thorin shook his head at her. "I don't know what you've heard, but Fili lives yet. We're still searching."

"Searching." The word dripped with bitterness. "On the word of an elf. That was over a day ago. What if that is too long? What if he no longer is with us?"

Gently, Thorin tried to capture his sibling's hand, but Dis jerked backwards.

"I want him to be alive. I NEED him to not be Waiting." Dis said in a rush. "But I have lived through this awful waiting before, and it did not turn out well. Kili should be here or looking for his brother!"

Thorin's eyes closed at the reminder of Nehili and how false hope had nearly destroyed his sister once before.

"Lady Dis, there are many who are trapped …"

"Kili should be here, he is now the Crown Prince …until Fili is found, either way." She stressed each and every word, her voice rising.

Balin shifted his weight uncomfortably, unsure if Dis was close to losing to hysteria. He'd only seen that once, and it was something to avoid if at all possible. "Fili lives, I know he does."

Thorin shot his advisor a quick look, knowing Balin wasn't being truthful. His white-haired counselor had his doubts, which he'd expressed openly. Just, that wasn't what Dis needed to hear. Quickly he agreed. "I have every faith that Fili lives and is still my heir."

Dis nodded, visibly struggling to push down her fear and worry, but holding it together like a proper dwarrowdam. "Where do you need me to serve?"

Thorin didn't like his sister's color, nor the fact that she seemed so fragile at the moment. "Fili lives. Kili is fine. Tauriel and Erelinde are still with us. We will survive this."

Dis hissed, breathing hard, though she nodded to show she'd heard. "Thorin, get my sons back. Get them back to me."

"You will dance at their weddings, both of them." Thorin said deliberately not liking how she'd stressed the word 'them' as if dismissive of all others.

Dis drew back, glaring at her brother while Balin politely turned his sight away. "Why? Why do you say such a thing to me? Now? Why are you so cruel?"

Thorin reached out and wrapped his hand behind his sister's neck, bringing her closer gently but firmly. "Because you are deliberately turning aside all mention of Tauriel and we can't have it. Tell me, how badly is she really hurt?"

Dis sputtered and denied, but Thorin wasn't deterred. He met her glare for glare until she gave in, describing the red-head's eye, and just how she'd hurt her hands. She went on to list how Erelinde had stood up during the crisis, and how she'd held it together in the healing halls.

Thorin nodded carefully as he listened, looking like he'd expected no less from the two lasses. "Your sons choose wisely."

Dis snapped out a bitter word that had the politely non-listening Balin nearly choking as he took three steps back to give them just a bit more privacy.

Thorin sighed patiently and waited.

"Alright. Erelinde is more than just a pretty face, I'll give her that. But she's too close to that she-elf." Dis nearly spat out the words.

"Close with Kili's betrothed? Tragic." Thorin's voice was starkly mocking.

Dis raised her fist and struck the king's chest, though not hard and not offensively. "You should have seen him! Kili was every inch the fine prince you raised him to be, taking charge and they were following him!"

"As it should be." Thorin replied, though he knew where his sister was heading with this and he didn't necessarily want to have this conversation. "But no, he is no longer heir to the throne. Not technically."

"They followed him!" Dis grabbed her brother's tunic, fisting the material tightly. "No one cared of his mixed blood! There is no reason for him to throw away his future on some she-elf when he should be looking toward his own!"

"Dis." Thorin wrapped his hand around hers even as she refused to let go of his tunic. "He has no one of his own, not really. He can look to either race equally though. It is good the dwarves follow Kili, but this is a crisis and they respond to a leader. I'm prouder of him than I can say. But when it comes time to sit a king on a throne, he cannot and will not be counted as a candidate. Not because he is lacking in any way. And not because he followed his heart and caught the eye of Tauriel. He sees it clear enough. He removed himself from the line."

"No." Dis looked near to weeping.

Thorin didn't stop there. "Fili will be found, I have no doubt for I will not rest until he is brought safely out. But if he has gone to the Halls of the Waiting, even so, Kili will not be my royal heir. He will always be a prince of Erebor, family, and dearer to my heart than can be said, but not king."

Now the tears were coming, tracking down the dwarrowdam's face unchecked and unheeded. "Don't."

"Kili will serve me. He will serve Fili. He will serve Erebor and …" Here Thorin frowned a bit. "Maybe even Rivendell or Lothlorien. I don't know the future. I just know he has a future, here and other places too."

Dis was breathing so hard and quickly it was worrying him. Thorin stared into her desperate eyes. "I know he will have a long life, longer than any dwarf ever could or would hope for. And I am glad he has found someone to love that will share that life with him fully. I would have wished him full dwarrow if I could, but what is cannot be wished away."

"You're killing me." Dis gasped, barely able to get the words out.

Thorin's lips thinned as he shook his sister slightly. "Kili lives, and has found the one he wants to marry. There will likely be children. Life. Fili will be found, and he too will have a family, and a throne. Just because they've grown and are moving on doesn't mean they won't need you, us. Don't focus on what you're losing, but what we've gained."

"I can't." Dis whispered.

"Then you've already lost." Thorin told her implacably. "If you're not going to be a help, don't stand in the way."

Dis watched the king turn from her in disbelief. "Brother?"

Thorin grabbed Balin as he walked away from Dis as the white-bearded dwarf struggled to keep up. He stopped as he saw an odd sight. "Nori's dragging Bifur away from the front gates? I thought he was with the Heavyaxe dam?"

Balin glanced and shrugged. "Nori looks determined."

"I just threw all my support behind Tauriel."

The white-bearded advisor spun and stared, eyes rounded with shock. "You? What? How did that feel?"

"Very, very strange. Me. Supporting an elf, against my own sister. I think Arda must have fallen." Thorin admitted with a hefty sigh. "Balin? Give Dis a minute, then help her gather herself. Get her assisting on something important. Food stores, cooking, something. Keep her mind off of Fili and Kili for now."

"Yes, sire." Balin answered, feeling off-kilter, though he couldn't disagree with his king. "You gave Tauriel your support? Thorin, you have mine. I think you're doing the right thing."

Thorin grunted even as he nodded his thanks. "I hope so, I certainly hope so."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel was having a hard time sitting still, but nothing compared to Erelinde. The poor lass was up and down and out of her chair more than she was in it.

"It's been too long." The dwarrowdam tugged on the frayed end of one of her braids hanging forlornly down her back.

The red-head felt the same way, but was trying to hold onto the edges of her patience. "You might want to pin your hair back up or you might not have any left."

Brunere smiled wanly, listening to the duo.

Erelinde blinked absently, her sky-blue eyes confused for a second as she looked at the end of her braid as if unsure how it had gotten tangled around her fingers. With a derisive snort she dropped her hair and shook her head. "No more hair pins, I used them all."

Tauriel looked slightly confused.

Brunere didn't even move as she spoke. "Hairpins used to secure bandages, never thought I'd see the day. Still, we use what we must."

The she-elf felt chagrined, she hadn't even realized that none of the dwarrowdams still had any hair pins left. "I never even considered repurposing them like that."

"It was Erelinde's idea." Admitted the violet-eyed dwarrowdam. "Oin seemed shocked but pleased. And grateful."

The white-blonde dam waved a hand as if to shoo away the words. "Sealyn said it was a simple enough spell."

"She also said she'd never performed such before and had only seen it done once." Tauriel offered. She didn't add that no one knew if this was even going to work. They all knew that far too well. "Brunere? Have you had any further word on your father?"

The violet-eyed dam smiled wearily and nodded. "He hit his head. Concussion and had to have some stitching up. He was singing about turnips from what I gather."

"Oh dear." Erelinde's eyes widened with distress. "Not again."

Tauriel paused, a bit unwilling to ask but finding she couldn't resist. "Singing …about …turnips?"

"My father is a wonderfully hardy dwarrow, but he is a mining engineer and has been injured once or twice before." Brunere's lips twitched in fond amusement. "Pain medications don't have the same effect on him that they do for others. He doesn't peacefully rest or go to sleep."

"He sings. Loudly. Off-key." Erelinde sat back down in her seat, leaning forward to pat one of her friend's hands in comfort.

"But …turnips?" The she-elf couldn't stop the question.

Brunere shrugged. "It's always turnips. No one knows why, least of all my poor da. When he finally goes to sleep he wakes up all fine, but never remembers singing. Once he even accused me of making it all up."

The sound of feet had all three females looking up just as Nori came around the corner fairly dragging poor Bifur. "Any luck?"

Tauriel pointed to the closed door in mute denial. Well, door wasn't entirely accurate anymore. It had been a door, but now it hung askew though and was a poor barrier.

Nori grimaced and nodded, he knocked on the door remnants and then had to act quickly to catch the door with his one good arm before it crashed down to the floor. "Oops."

Sealyn and Arwen looked up, startled.

"I brought Bifur, thought he might be able to assist." Nori commented even as he broke the remaining hinge and leaned the door against a wall, leaving the doorway free and clear.

"Is he a gem-cutter too?" The Lady Arwen asked hopefully.

"Nay, lass." Nori frowned, shaking his head. "But he is a fair hand at toys."

Arwen stared, not speaking, obviously at a loss for what to say.

Sealyn frowned and shook her head. "The spell for sister-stones is mostly for locating gem deposits. I don't understand."

"Bifur is better versed in dwarven magics, lass, I'm sorry." Nori apologized in case he was stepping on her pride. "I thought if you explained to him what you'd seen when you saw that spell he might have some ideas of what to try."

Lady Arwen blinked, then nodded carefully. "That might help. Bifur did make that thimble that sings birdsong for me." At the blank looks from the other dams she explained. "For Durin's Day."

Sealyn caught her breath, then blew it out in consideration as she nodded. "I am having trouble remembering the exact sequences."

"It can't hurt to try. Please." Erelinde looked near tears, wringing her poor hands.

Bifur made soothing noises and patted her shoulder as he headed into the room. He stopped and shooed Nori back outside before looking over at Arwen.

Sealyn shook her head. "I know it's our magic, but she's more familiar with Elven magic and they are what made the stones after all."

Bifur thought it over, hesitating.

Nori pointed at the stones firmly. "These may be our only hope of finding Fili and maybe even Bofur if they remained together. And she is related through Kili. I can't tell you it's good to have an elf present during these things, but consider what we've already been through today."

Bifur growled and grabbed the door and leaned it against the opening to keep Nori out. But he allowed Arwen to stay.

"Excuse me?"

Everyone looked up to see a dwarrow, the right side of his face showing neat stitches down to his upper lip.

Brunere jumped up, having left word to fetch her if the other healers were occupied. "What's wrong?"

"Twelve just came in, the prince he dug them out of the lower barracks. Some bad crushing injuries." The dwarrow reported sadly.

Brunere's mind raced, frowning. "Nuluin and Oin are both tied up with critical cases. Let me look and see what we have."

"The worst one Kili took himself to Lord Elrond in the main halls. It was further away but he insisted."

"He's right." Brunere sniffed, knowing that the elvish leader was perhaps the finest healer left in all of Middle Earth. "Lead on." She followed after the fellow.

Tauriel stood, feeling inadequate with her heavily bandaged hands. It was good to hear that Kili was well, but it stung that she could not do more.

"I'll help." Erelinde hurried after her friend.

"Maybe I could …."

"You should sit." Nori interrupted. "You can't even pick up a shovel right now, much less a bandage." He said, not unkindly.

"He's right." The dwarrow at the doorway said, giving her a half-smile then wincing as it pulled at his stitches.

Tauriel blinked at him, then caught her breath. Underneath those stitches were healed scars. Something clicked into place in her memory. "I know you."

The young dwarrow ducked his head and gave her a shy look. "You spoke with my father while putting in your nashatal braids."

"I recall." Tauriel said with true warmth. "He was so proud of you …he is well?" She asked, suddenly concerned due to all of the recent events.

The young dwarrow shook his head. "No. He waits. He was on guard duty at the stables."

A moan escaped her as her gaze dropped in sorrow. "I …." She didn't know what to say, what to do. It's not as if she had been particularly close to the dwarf, but hearing of his passing stung her down to the marrow of her bones. "He was kind to me." She whispered, then considered those words to be inadequate. The she-elf looked up, catching the dwarrow's gaze. "We will sing for him."

The dwarf gave her a brave smile and a nod of thanks as he left.

Silence. Except it wasn't quiet. Moans of pain, even a few shouts. Words of comfort and grief carrying from the adjoining rooms. Too many people in too close of quarters. Too many injuries. Saruman. It was on him. Tauriel's hands tightened as if to form fists, until the pain stopped her cold.

"It was the right thing to say."

Tauriel looked up, finding Nori's eyes on her, his face unreadable. Dis' story of King Nain II came back to her as she realized just how related this dwarf was to Kili. How remarkable their mutual affection was, and how deep the loyalties must go. "You have no quarrel with the king, it's a ruse."

Nori's eyes went wide with shock and then he made a quick gesture for her not to speak.

Tauriel nodded, saying no more aloud, but she knew her guess was right. "I will keep your secret, unless Kili asks me directly. I will give him no lies."

Nori hastily nodded.

"You should tell Sealyn though."

He gave her a baleful look.

She grimaced, seeing how hard a spot he was in. He couldn't tell the inky-haired dwarrowdam, not unless they were wed. But she was hesitating because she questioned his loyalties. "She cares for you a great deal."

"I would love her." He replied simply.

"I …." What else could she say? What comfort could she offer? Tauriel sighed and changed the subject. "I will need help. I know nothing of the proper songs to sing for those waiting."

"There's no need." Nori said of her concern.

"There is every need. I promised I would sing for that dwarrow's father." Tauriel sighed. "And I will do so. But …I don't know how. Nor do I even know his name. He was simply someone who was kind to me."

Nori nodded in understanding, sensing her resolve. "I will get his name for you, and you will sing."

"Ker would know his name." Tauriel said thoughtfully, then frowned. "If Ker is not among the ones I will have to sing for." She said, her stomach rolling at the very idea. With all her focus on Kili she'd not considered who else might be hurt, or waiting.

"He is not that I am aware of." Nori said quietly. "At least I didn't see his name listed."

Tauriel nodded, relieved yet feeling terrible that she hadn't thought to ask before now. "Call me if they should come up with something." She said as she headed back toward the main healing halls.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The soup was hot. That was all that could be said of it. It was thick with fish, but little else, and the spices were non-existent. Dis hated serving this, but everyone in line seemed so grateful.

Rescuers and warriors. Everyone was lining up.

Dis watched as those that had been fighting mingled with those that had been digging. Seeing friends and family find each other with great relief. There were those that wept, hearing the news of about someone they cared for Waiting in the Halls of Mahal.

It made her sick to her stomach with self-loathing. Dis blinked back her tears as she struggled to regain her inner balance. She laughed at herself silently. Inner balance? Had she had that elusive quality? When had she lost it? When Kili had been found out? No, perhaps when she'd married? No, again no. It had been when Nehili had died. That was it.

"Thank you."

Dis looked up and smiled, trying to give what reassurance she could.

Conversations rose and fell around her. Wild talk about seeking revenge, hunting a wizard, and how the elves had saved Erebor.

At first this had angered her, but the more she heard, the more she began to realize …she was wrong. When had she allowed her personal feelings about elves to taint everything she saw and did?

"Glad you're well."

Dis smiled, thanking the dwarf for his good wishes as she continued passing out what food there was.

What right did she have to be angry about who her son had fallen in love with? When looking around, she should just be grateful that Kili was well and hale and whole. So many weren't.

She knew the numbers that Dain had brought. She knew how many resided here in Erebor, and while there were many out here, it wasn't enough. Too many were injured, or still missing.

Tauriel.

A she-elf. Yes. Yet she had left everything behind to live under a mountain. Why? It could only be love. Not to seek a crown, not when Kili had given up that crown. Willingly. And the lass was brave, smart and strong.

Thorin liked her.

Dis frowned. If Thorin accepted her, how could she fight this match? Should she even try? It hurt her head to think of Kili living an elven life span, even an abbreviated one. Perhaps it was for the best that he find love with such a one.

"Thank you."

Dis looked up quickly, that wasn't the voice of any dwarrow. Elrohir. She paled slightly, but nodded. "You are well?"

If the question surprised the tall elf, he gave no outward sign. Though it took him a moment to nod. "I am. And you?"

"I am as well." Dis allowed, letting the elf walk away. She looked toward the next in line, finding Hinnin. Another elf. She ladled out the next bowl of soup. "I apologize it is so little."

"I am grateful." The elf said smoothly. "As I am glad you are well."

"And you." She said quietly.

"Calbrinia is well also, having returned from Dale." Hinnin added as he moved so the next in line could be served.

Dis had known that, still it was a kindness. "Thank you for telling me."

Still, the elf hesitated, probably wondering how much he could say since the two had never been friendly before. "I grieve for Ahriline. She was lovely and kind."

Dis swallowed hard, but nodded her gratitude. "I too will grieve."

With that the two elves moved on so that the dwarrow lined up behind them could get their share of the soup.

So. Dis dished out three more bowls in an automatic fashion, her mind trying to catch up with her emotions.

A commotion to the west had her looking up. Someone was coming, but who?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

King Thranduil looked about the study, or what was left of it. Half-burned books and papers were strewn hither and yon. Broken pottery and glass. Twisted metals and broken stones.

Bard whistled under his breath, rubbing his face in resignation. "The White Wizard attacked you all?"

Thorin sighed and kicked at what had been an inkwell of his great-grandfather's. "Attacked? He tried to murder us."

Thranduil sneered, blowing on a piece of parchment on a shelf. It crumbled at the touch of his breath. "If his purpose was to kill, you would be dead." As if he found it impossible that the dwarves could have survived if Saruman had been truly intent on murder.

"I assure you, he tried."

Everyone turned to look as Lord Elrond entered. "I apologize for running late. Kuilaith brought me a desperate case." He looked to King Thorin. "He will survive, I believe."

The dwarven monarch nodded back with some relief, having recognized an old friend of his father's from the Iron Hills.

"Saruman attacked us all. His intent was our utter destruction, and the bringing down of Erebor itself. When he could not, Sauron manifested through his willing servant."

Thranduil hissed in shock while Bard simply stared.

Elrond nodded to his fellow elf, to give further weight to his words. "I could fight Saruman, but with Sauron's advent I was disadvantaged. Galadriel joined the fight, turning the tide."

Thorin started, realizing that the elf had left off Kili's foray into the battle. Elrond would not look at him and the king realized the omission was deliberate. He thought about it and decided to say nothing, for now. "Sauron cast a spell, to bring down the mountain. This was what you felt and saw when the earth trembled."

Bard nodded nervously. Dragons were bad enough, wizards were far worse. "Mordor casts an evil shadow in this direction."

"We will have to stand together." Thorin said firmly, then gave a rough chuckle. "Yes, I know how strange that sounds …coming from MY mouth."

Bard gave a ghost of a smile. Thranduil did not. "You call this standing?"

Thorin straightened in affront, his eyes blazing despite his lack of sleep or rest. "We are not yet defeated. Saruman is on the run and we are still here. Standing."

"Humans defeat your dragon. Elves fight off your foes."

Elrond said something sharp in elvish, which Thranduil answered with his nose in the air.

"Enough."

The word might as well have been shouted. All turned, though the reactions were as varied as the personalities present.

Elrond bowed graciously, while Thranduil dipped his head in a brief movement that could have been missed if anyone blinked. Glorfindel straightened up from where he'd been leaning against the remnant of a wall, a smile growing on his face.

Bard looked at the two newcomers, his expression carefully blanked. While Thorin blinked and then blinked again. "You really do have a beard." He said almost brusquely.

Standing next to the Lady Galadriel, Cirdan the Shipwright inclined his head in a gracious movement. "Yes, I really do. I also come with fighters, though it seems we are too late to do much good."

Thorin stared at the silver haired elf, his eyes on the beard. It was well trimmed and groomed and most definitely a real beard. The lack of decoration was of no consequence, it was simply, odd. On an elf. "All help is welcome."

Cirdan nodded. "A day's ride away I left supplies and gifts, hurrying as I caught Galadriel's call." He smiled at the female next to him. "They will arrive on the morrow."

"Good." Thorin grunted. At least he wouldn't have to feed the elven newcomers. Not that he could at the moment. "We can spare but a few to assist in guiding them here."

"The way is marked." Cirdan said quietly. "I did so myself, and no, no one else but my own could read what markers I left."

"Not even Saruman?" Thranduil asked coldly. "Where are the other wizards? Are we sure they are with us?"

Galadriel answered in a voice colder than the snow on the mountain top. Thorin saw Thranduil's eyes swing to her, and he found it interesting that the elven king could not seem to look away. "Gandalf is setting up wards and protections. Radagast is grieving and tending what animals Saruman did not slaughter. They are with us."

"How can you be sure?" King Bard asked uneasily.

Galadriel looked deep into the Human and he gulped at the power he sensed within this strange elf. "They have both allowed me closer than I would have ever asked, and I find no shadow within them." She said in a voice gone so spooky that Thorin fought not to shudder.

"There's something at least." Elrond said quietly, disturbed that Galadriel had done such a thing. It had put her at great risk, exposing her to so much. If the wizards had been traitors, it would have been an ideal time to attack her. Still, it was a great relief to know that both Gandalf and Radagast were true.

"Of course we have room." Thorin said with only a small sneer. "It's walls we're short of at the moment."

"I do not make light of your troubles." Cirdan said with great dignity, no judgement in his voice. "But we brink nearly an entire army of supplies. We have been stocking up and preserving for near two years."

Elrond stilled, turning to look at the Shipwright in puzzlement. Even as Thorin cleared his throat. "Two years?"

Cirdan gestured gracefully at the area around him. "I knew I was supposed to be collecting and gathering supplies, but I did not know the purpose. It wasn't until late in the year that I was led to begin a journey in this direction."

Thorin looked at each of the elves, but found no help. They all wore their blank face masks. Except Glorfindel, who was smiling and shaking his head. "Just how many have you brought on this journey, that you need two years worth of supplies?" The dwarven king asked bluntly. "I have never been to your home, but I do know how to read a map and it would not take so long to get here."

"No." Cirdan allowed. "And the supplies are not for me, or not just for those that follow me. We've been gathering those supplies for you, or for Erebor more precisely. Though I did not know that at the time."

Thorin stared. It was all he could do to keep his jaw from unhinging and swaying open. Bard coughed and looked like he was in the same boat at least. "Two years ago? We hadn't even left Ered Luin at that time."

"Cirdan has a gift of knowledge, not quite foresight. He follows the signs as you would a well-travelled road." Galadriel gave the king a soothing look.

"Here is a list of what we bring to you, it is a gift." Cirdan held out several parchments, which Thorin took though his hands felt a bit numb. He shuffled through them, his eyebrows rising at the foods and materials listed. He glanced up, a glower forming on his formidable face. "We have no need for charity."

"Charity? Hardly. With Erebor gone, so too will go Dale, and then eventually the Greatwood."

Thranduil shifted his weight at hearing the old name for the Mirkwood, but he did not deny that his kingdom alone could stand against Mordor. Though he wanted to, of course.

"These are in way of shoring up Arda's defenses. I have seen. Erebor is important to what is coming, and she must not fall."

"You're a little late." Thorin muttered darkly under his breath, and if any of the elves heard, they had the politeness not to comment. The dwarven king sighed and nodded, he could hardly deny that they badly needed these supplies. "Still, I would pay for them."

"I will not accept. Perhaps, you would accept them as an early wedding present for your sister-son?"

Elrond stopped breathing so startled was he. The tall elf looked first to Galadriel, but she shook her head slightly. She had not spoken of any such wedding, not to Cirdan.

Thorin scowled, tapping his fingers against his thigh in agitation. He grunted. "Generous gift." The king paused, then shook his head. "Wait. Which sister-son?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel looked up from where she was speaking with an injured dwarf, one she'd meet while working with Dwalin on patrols. She'd been on the look-out even as she visited and knew immediately when Nori entered and gestured for the others to follow.

Brunere bit her lip, then shook her head. She was mixing medicines as best she could with one broken hand. "Go on." She told Erelinde and Tauriel as they approached her. "Find him."

"But …Bofur?" The white-blonde dwarrow dam asked.

Brunere shook her head, her violet-eyes sad and hopeful at the same time. "I'm needed here, and with my hand I'd only slow you down. Find Prince Fili, and if Bofur is with him, more to the good. Bring them here. If he's not, I'm not sure I want to see."

Erelinde looked torn, but Tauriel nodded, drawing the other dam away as they headed toward Nori.

They followed him back to the room they'd commandeered. He looked at them seriously. "It's glowing, sort of like a beacon. It gets brighter in a certain direction, but it's hard to follow."

"And it leads to Fili's signal stone?" Erelinde asked breathlessly.

Nori grinned. "Let's go find him." He shooed Erelinde into the room with Sealyn and Arwen.

Tauriel paused, speaking in a whisper. "Are you sure?"

"If fate is kind." He murmured back. "And right now, I'm thinking fate owes us."

The two red-heads shared a look of trepidation, fear and hope just as the others came out to join them. Bifur held the stone in one direction and the stone glowed brighter. Only it was at a solid wall.

Erelinde made a strangled noise.

Nori reached out and pressed Bifur's arm downwards, and the stone began to glow even brighter. "East and underground."

"It's all underground." Tauriel said quietly.

"Deeper underground." Nori amended.


	56. In which there is something glowing

Fili's mouth was desert dry and he ached too much for laughter, still he was smiling. Not that it mattered, not in the abject darkness of his shared stone cage with Bofur. Their lantern oil had given out over half a day ago.

"Yes. Covered in mud and muck and other nasty stuff, standing there prouder than any peacock and refusing to back down from that Human drover. The man towered over Thorin by a good foot and a half at the least, not that it mattered."

Unseen, Fili shook his head in a knowing manner, able to picture the scene in his mind. "Backed the drover down, didn't he?"

Bofur made a noise to indicate the guess was right. "That was my first sight of King Thorin II, though he didn't have that title exactly, not then. But he was every inch the king, every inch!" The dwarrow's voice dripped with pride, though his usual speaking tone was gruff and scratchy.

Their water hadn't outlasted the lantern oil. Bofur had made Fili sit down ages ago, when the younger dwarf had started losing his balance a bit. Dehydration. The hunger was not fun, but it was the lack of water that was the immediate problem.

Fili shifted, knowing he hadn't had to release his bladder in too long. His body had no such urge or need, which was not a good sign. He wasn't even sweating in the heat anymore. Another bad sign. The sweat would have decreased his internal temperature, but his body didn't have the moisture to spare. He knew he was feverish and although Bofur made no complaints, the young prince was pretty sure the other dwarrow was in the same sad way.

"The snows were bad that year, making it a rough go for everyone and all tempers were in a bind." Bofur continued. "Thorin's temper was always there, just beneath the surface, like a crust on a lava flow."

In the dark, Fili frowned. "You said mud and muck. Where did the snow come from?"

Silence fell for a moment, then a groan. "Of course, of course. Different time, lad. No, this drover fellow was upset because a dwarven merchant had made such a fine bargain that he was looking to get even wherever he could. High summer, not winter."

Fili nodded, his frown still firmly in place. Had Bofur merely lost the thread of the story? Or was confusion setting in? It was a symptom of severe dehydration.

It was one of the reasons the two were trading stories even though their mouths were so dry. They feared the sleepy grogginess of lack of water. Neither spoke of the fear of not waking up again, they'd just fallen into an unspoken pattern of trading stories instead. Keeping each other on track and trying to avoid confusion and sleep.

As if able to hear the blond's thoughts, Bofur cleared his throat. "I'm fine, I'm fine, lad. Maybe you could use that warning stone of the elves, maybe it'll let us know when we're in danger of getting worse."

Badly startled, Fili's leg twitched involuntarily as he looked up in the darkness. Warning stone? Blushing hotly he scrambled over to where he thought he'd ditched his heavier leathers, having taking them off long ago due to the stifling warmth due to poor ventilation and the fever brought on by dehydration.

"What?" Bofur responded, hearing the other dwarrow rummaging around.

Fili started cursing under his breath as he found his clothing, but not the pouch he was looking for. Desperately he started patting around, ignoring the sting of scrapes from stone shards that got in his way. Finally he found a string, he pulled on it only to find it too heavy. Following the string he found a vest, probably Bofur's. Calming his breathing, Fili crawled back to where his leathers were and this time was more meticulous about his search, widening his circle as he went. His efforts were rewarded when his left hand landed on the pouch in question.

"What are you ….? By Nain's Bearded Ass." Bofur said in awe as Fili untied the pouch strings and a small bit of light began to be seen. "What is that?"

"The warning stone." Fili sounded embarrassed and apologetic. "I didn't even think about it. I just use it on the ale and food mostly, and we don't have that down here."

Bofur nodded in the sickly green glow and Fili felt instantly comforted, just being able to see his friend enough to note the gesture.

"Kili set his in a necklace for Tauriel." Fili said bitterly. "I didn't bother."

Responding to the self-loathing in the dwarrow's voice, Bofur shook his head. "It's an elvish gift, from a source you're not sure of, and …"

"And it was prideful and stupid not to use it. Not to make use of any bit of help." Fili shook his own head, denying the reassurance of the hatted dwarf. "I should have set it, it might have warned us of the collapse sooner. At the very least we would have had a little light."

The stone glowed weakly, barely a spot in the inky blackness, yet the two dwarrow moved closer to it anyway. Like a tiny beacon of hope, just being able to see again was buoying their spirits.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

_"You can keep your carrots, 'begas, and beet goop_

_For the purple shouldered crown sprouts green is king_

_And nothing is nicer than to find turnips swimming in the soup!"_

Kili blinked rapidly and cocked his head over toward the singer, surprised to find the usually gruff Grimbasher seated a bit unsteadily on a low cot and cheerfully singing about a root vegetable. He turned back to the lists. Lists of those found, and those yet missing.

Fili's name was nowhere. The young brunet fought the rising panic he'd been pushing down ever since he heard his brother might be among those Waiting. He bit his bottom lip uncertainly and looked around the area. Guards were still outside what little remained of Thorin's study. The leaders were all still meeting.

_"You can think them nasty and ugly_

_You can call them swollen and without regard_

_But I like them toasted and roasted and served on a platter!"_

"He's running out of even bad rhymes." Kili muttered as he turned and resolutely made his way toward the tunnels that would take him to the Tigett mine shafts.

_"So your thoughts on them certainly don't matter!"_

"Oh, just changing the meter mid-song. Bad form." Kili groused without heat as he deliberately slipped away from the area without seeking out his uncle and king. He soothed any guilt he might feel with the knowledge that Thorin was tied up with high level meetings and wouldn't want to be interrupted anyway.

He grabbed a water pouch from a table laid out with supplies for rescue parties on his way out.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"It's not working!" Tauriel hissed with frustration, her hand over Sealyn's arm and moving it in several directions but unable to find an area where the stone brightened.

Nori scowled, his own nerves shredded as he pushed the she-elf's hand out of the way. "Don't interfere, it's got to be in this direction!"

Bifur growled at the ginger-bearded dwarf, his countenance stony as he objected to the other dwarrow's pushy manner.

A shrill whistle stopped them all as every eye turned to Erelinde standing next to a pale Arwen. The white-blond dam blinked at them then shook her head, her usual smile nowhere in evidence. "It's like crafting …."

"Lass, don't …" Nori began in a sour tone.

Erelinde's voice rose as she interrupted rudely. "DON'T! It's like crafting, this search is not like that on a map. Think three dimensions, not two. Knots. They are all entangled and if you simply come at them in one direction, you never get anywhere."

Nori blinked, taken aback by the usually shy lasses words and manner. Idly he thought maybe she was more than she appeared, which would be good if they could only get to Fili. Swiftly he ran through their limited options and turned to Sealyn and nodded at her, flicking his eyes at Erelinde. "Try whatever she suggests."

"Don't humor me." Snipped the blond as she stepped up beside her friend, who for spell-work reasons could not let go of the sensing-stone. Erelinde took a deep breath and moved her friend's arm not just in front of her, but all the way around, moving in small increments like those found in clockworks.

Nothing happened for many minutes, until …. "There!" Sealyn breathed out in sheer relief. She was now turned to one side with her arm approximately at ninety-five degrees of flexion.

Arwen frowned in confusion. "That's slightly upward. I thought we were heading down?"

"We're on the right level, but too far west." Nori muttered, thinking hard while Bifur flashed some hand signals and shook his head. "I don't know this area, but aren't we relatively close to the Eastern shaft system?"

Bifur nodded emphatically, then made a few gestures while Nori stroked his bead with the one arm that wasn't attached to his side with wide bandages.

Sealyn pressed her lips together and moved her hand in order to confirm the direction. "Wasn't there a cross-connect back about a quarter of a mile?"

Tauriel shook her head. "No."

"Yes." Nori sighed, closing his eyes in worry. "It didn't look like one, because three of the cross connections were either sealed or buried."

"If we backtrack we lose time." Erelinde seemed torn as she watched the glow of the signal stone. "But I think we have to go."

Bifur uttered a spate of unintelligible words, but headed back the way they'd come. The others followed, doubt, fear and hope warring within their minds.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Which sister-son is to marry?" Thorin insisted again.

Thranduil sighed and gave an indolent shrug of his shoulders. "Does it matter? A gift is a gift, let us move on."

Galadriel held up one hand as if to still the situation. "No, this could be important. If it is Kuilaith, that is well enough. But if it is Fili, that is good news indeed."

Thorin grunted even though the Golden Lady didn't look in his direction. She knew. If the wedding was Fili's did that not mean that his crown prince would be found alive and whole?

Cirdan's expression did not change, though he did dip his head almost in apology. "I have not the gift of foresight as others might think. I know there might be a wedding, but I have no idea whose. In fact, I was not even aware there was more than one sister-son to King Thorin."

The dwarven monarch fought not to moan, keeping his own expressions tightly lidded, especially from Thranduil. "I see." He said, though he really did not understand the distinction between foresight and whatever gift Cirdan did hold. The elf had been preparing for this journey for two years. Two years! Thorin could not fathom the patience of preparing for something and knowing not why.

"Mordor is the more immediate concern." Thranduil waved a hand elegantly at those in the ruins of the room.

"Not to me and mine." Thorin grumbled.

Elrond frowned uneasily. He knew the importance of discussing Sauron and the threat he posed to the entirety of Middle Earth. Yet. He found he had a qualm, rather a fondness for the missing crown prince of Erebor. That lad had proved bright and resourceful and a source of strength that was badly needed in light of all that was happening. "Is there any way that any of us can assist in locating young Fili?"

Startled, Thorin looked over at the tall elf, who was in turn looking toward Cirdan.

"One dwarrow? We have an entire world to protect." Thranduil said cautiously, as if trying to sense what Elrond was finding so important.

"And is not the stability of each free kingdom paramount in forming a strong and successful alliance?"

Second huge surprise. Thorin blinked and slid his sapphire gaze in the direction of Lord Celeborn. The king frowned, not out of unhappiness, but confusion. Elves. Standing up for dwarven concerns?

"I am sorry." Cirdan said, his calm voice cutting through the room. "The near destruction of Erebor and the betrayal by Saruman as thrown all probabilities and possibilities into utter confusion. The signs are muddled and there are no clear paths from this point, not yet."

Galadriel sighed, nodding in understanding.

Bard licked his lips and shook his head. It was clear the human leader had no such understanding. "Probabilities and possibilities?"

Cirdan gave the human king a short nod of his head. "Let us say you walk a path in your town. It is a path you know well. Can you say with any certainty who you will see?"

The Human king blinked, then gamely shook his head. "I can guess who I will be most likely to see. But I cannot say that one or the other will be there at a certain time, or that work did not take longer than normal for another and delaying them from being there."

"What you are left with is the probability and possibility." Cirdan explained. "Some you are probably going to see, while others are merely a possibility. Now. Erebor has been attacked and you are not on that normal street, you are here instead. Was that a probability just last week? No. A possibility, but a faint one and one not considered by you or any other."

"But you can read the signs." Thorin pointed out. "Would you not know you were not to be on that street say …two years prior to the event?"

Cirdan chuckled and nodded at the Dwarven King. "I can read signs, yes. But those signs are hardly absolute and things change, or are changed by large events, such as what has transpired here in Erebor. I could have easily been left with two years of supplies and no one to gift it to if not for the extraordinary efforts of those who salvaged this kingdom from destruction."

Bard nodded, though he still looked a bit bemused and unclear on the subject of future events. "All I know is what is right in front of me."

"Let us just say that if we could see the future as it will be, and not as it might be, then there would be no need to guard against Sauron. We would know his every move and counter it without fail. No. Foresight is limited, and my abilities even more so." Cirdan sighed and gave a sympathetic look to Thorin. "I have seen the possibility of a wedding, though as to whose I cannot say. If that wedding is still to take place? The possibility remains, but it is cloudy and vague."

"So it's possible that it will not take place?" Thorin did not sound happy at the thought.

"Indeed." Cirdan shook his head sadly. "I would rather attend a wedding than …something else."

Such as a funeral. Thorin sighed heavily. He looked next to Galadriel, as she had been the one to initially lift his hopes. The Golden Lady of Light nodded at him grimly. "I still sense the Line continues, but it feels as if things grow ever weaker."

Bard shook his head as if to clear away the talk of signs and possible futures. "Fine. From what I gather there is a crown prince that needs to be saved, for the stability of the kingdom, or even just the love of his family. Is there NO way the elves with all their mysteries, magics, and sights cannot help locate him?"

"Straightforward." Glorfindel commented on the question as he smiled, though he did not look very happy. "I have no such ability."

Thorin saw Galadriel shake her head. If she'd had a way to do such, it would already have been done. He glanced at Celeborn, Elrond and Cirdan, but already knew their answers. That left only …. "Thranduil?"

The King of the Mirkwood raised an eyebrow and then smiled grimly. "We have never been friends, but I am withholding no knowledge or ability to do such a thing."

Thorin closed his eyes, nodding. Every rescue team in Erebor knew to keep their eyes and ears and stone-sense open. Any hint of trapped dwarrow was to be investigated vigorously.

There was nothing more he could do. Except. Thorn looked up at Galadriel. "Gandalf?"

"He is already trying."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Ori absently took the proffered water pouch and drained it half-way, his throat moving reflexively as he gulped down the liquid. He finally brought his head back forward and wiped his mouth as he thanked the dwarrow who'd handed it to him.

"Anything?"

Hearing the urgency and anguish in that one word, Ori whipped his head around. "Kili!"

The dark-haired prince looked miserably on the bodies of those already found that were covered and being carried out of the mining shaft one by one.

"He's not found, not yet." Ori put his hand on Kili's shoulder in reassurance. Meaning his body was not discovered, and thus he might as yet still be alive.

"Any signs? Noise?"

Ori sighed and reluctantly shook his head in a negative answer. No. There were no signals or signs that anyone yet lived down further into these mine shafts.

"What do you think?" Kili asked, his voice subdued.

Ori sucked in his cheeks, pressing his lips together as he shrugged, unwilling to answer.

Kili scowled. "He's alive." He said, trying to assure both the other dwarrow …and himself. Why was it taking so long to find Fili though?

"He's alive." Ori echoed, then winced, running an agitated hand over his beard. "But maybe not down here. Could he have been elsewhere? It's flattened." He motioned down the length of the Tigett shaft.

Kili winced, looking at the tightly packed fill-in, finding no hope in the dust and rock. "What if there are spaces further in?"

Ori looked simply miserable as he watched his friend and cousin's face, finally he shook his head. "Stormrune and the other miners say not. But they could be wrong."

"Fergard Stormrune?" Kili asked, as if there were another, he closed his eyes, frightened. Fergard was an excellent mining engineer from all accounts, but worse, he was Erelinde's father. A dwarrow that the prince knew would exhaust every path in trying to save Fili. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest as he sank down onto a large boulder, his hands rubbing at his eyes in exhaustion and grief. "No."

"Kili?"

"Not until I see his body." The brunet stood back up, licking his lips with a new determination. "I need …I need to see someone who'd worked with Fili …down here. I need to know where else he might have gone."

"They wait." Ori said simply, unable to hide the truth. "That entire work detail is gone, or badly injured." His eyes spoke volumes with misery shining forth. "I'm sorry."

"Don't give up!" Kili hissed.

Ori spread his hands. "I'm not!"

Kili glared and then grimaced, looking away as he dropped his head. "I'm sorry."

"I'm …we're still looking." The young scribe avowed. "Don't give up hope."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"What is that?" Tauriel sounded horrified as she looked on the molten glow of metals solidifying before her eyes. Right in the pathway leading down to where the glow of the signal-stone was leading.

The metal stream was moving sluggishly as it cooled, but the heat it was giving off was still tremendous, not to mention dangerous.

"I don't know how far down it leads." Nori swore, out loud, ignoring the shocked looks of the dwarrowdams beside him. "This isn't supposed to be down here!"

Bifur grunted and shook his head, his words uncatchable and his hands flying in wild gestures.

"It leads down the mining tunnels." Erelinde near wailed, tears glistening in her blue eyes but not falling. She bit her lip hard enough to near draw blood, trying to hold herself together.

Arwen looked on in horrified silence, her hands covering her mouth and her eyes wide with her own fears. "How do we cross? Or does it flow down to where Fili is …." Her voice trailed off in a near sob.

"Come on!" Nori turned, sprinting back up the way they'd come. "We need help! Major help!"

The others followed along behind, but they were down deep and it was going to take too long. Nori slowed, considering. He shook his head as he bit his lips. He glanced up at Tauriel and Arwen, looking back and forth between the two elf-maids. "Get someone. A miner, Bombur, the king, anyone that can help us! We have to know what run-off is down here and why. We have to know how to get around it, you two are faster. Eastern mine shafts, third down near the Beltak split. Go! Please, go!"

Tauriel looked at him, then over at Bifur who gave her a nod.

Arwen hesitated, starting to ask a question. Tauriel did not. The red-head took off at great speed with the brunet making a protesting squeak as she hurried to catch up. If Elrond's daughter thought that the Silvan elf would slow or wasn't sure of the way, she was mistaken. Tauriel had made mental note of every turn and twist and she ran full out, straight up.

Arwen's mouth dropped for a second as she spied the she-elf ahead of her leap over some mining equipment and keep on going. But if the former captain could do it ….the brunette made the leap as well, though maybe not with the same stride or grace. Still, she was keeping apace.

They came across a work crew of dwarves, heading down toward a different mining tunnel. Tauriel slowed in indecision. "Master miner! We have need, and someone in need of rescue!"

Most of the dwarves froze, staring at the two elf lasses in no small wonder. "What are you two doing down here? It's dangerous!" One dwarf chided them gruffly. Their crew chief stepped up and pointed down toward where they'd been coming from. "Some are that way, near the Tigett, we're heading up to get more supplies." He hefted a broken tool of some sort to emphasize his point.

Arwen caught up, slightly out of breath. "Melted metal flow …" She pointed down back the way they'd come.

The first dwarrow nodded. "To save the smelters, it flows to unworked portions of the mine. No one is down there. It's safe if you don't go near it." He sounded a bit surly, as if wondering why the two elf lasses even had been down that way in the first place.

"Prince Fili is." Tauriel rushed the words out. "We think we know where he is, but the way is blocked."

All of the dwarrow stared, and a few frowned while others shook their heads. "That way is not being worked." One insisted. "He'd not be there. You're mistaken."

"Nori and Bifur sent us!" Arwen insisted, throwing out the names in the hopes it would get the dwarrow to take them seriously.

The names of the two company members indeed did give the dwarves pause. They looked at each other, as if not sure how to react. These were elves. But hadn't elves just helped salvage Erebor from destruction? Fili was known to be friendly with these two, but did they know enough to figure out where the crown prince was trapped or buried?

Sensing the hesitation and not wanting to lose time, Tauriel spun to face the Lady Arwen, slipping back into her captain's role and giving orders without regard to actual rank. "Go, follow that tunnel to the top and then turn left as it widens into a main hallway. This will take you to the halls leading to the dining areas. Find the king!"

Arwen blinked, then nodded as her chin firmed. "I'll drag him down here if I have to." She vowed.

The dwarrow gathered round murmured unhappily, realizing that she was speaking of King Thorin. Tauriel rounded on them. "We need help, and we need it now. We have to get over or around or somehow through this melted ore. Prince Fili is on the other side, if he still lives and this metal hasn't reached him."

"Fergard is digging out the Tigett." A miner in the back poked his crew chief in the middle of his back. "He'd know what to make of this."

"Stormrune?" Tauriel drew up, her nostrils flaring as she recognized the name. "Where?"

Unsure, the first dwarrow pointed and the she-elf took off down the way indicated, with the crew following along behind her, leaving their crew chief to ponder if he should go with them or continue with his assigned duty. Indecision warred with the thought of the prince trapped somewhere and he too followed the she-elf back toward the Tigett. Or what was left of it.

"STORMRUNE!" The red-head belted, yelling down the tunnels. Dwarves popped their heads around and out, looking to see the shouter. But none were the right dwarf. She raced on, down and down, yelling a single name. "STORMRUNE?"

"Tauriel?"

The red-head spun, catching sight of Kili as he goggled at her. She grimaced as she waved her bandaged covered hands. "I need Fergard Stormrune. We think we've found where Fili is and …"

"WHERE?!" Kili roared, racing toward her, a filthy Ori right behind him, his mouth agape. "How?"

"Bring Stormrune!" Ori turned and shouted down the tunnel area, then nodding and pointing as he saw the mining engineer running toward them with a scowl on his face.

Fergard Stormrune approached quickly. "What's all the fuss? Surely not a new attack?"

"We need your help to find Fili." Tauriel started.

"And what do you think I've been doing?" The engineer yelped in shock, glancing behind him at the continuing efforts to dig out the collapsed Tigett shaft.

"No. He's not here! The signal-stone, the one that tells of danger. Sealyn did some dwarven spell on it, something about sister-stones."

Fergard shook his head, unfamiliar with the spell.

"Stone finding stone from the same rock face." Tauriel explained in a rush. "Something to do with finding deposits of gemstones?"

The engineer hissed, eyes widening further as he shook his head. "That hasn't been used since …well, since dwarves last resided in Erebor. Our new mines weren't big enough for such."

"Fili has a stone just like yours, Kili. The one you gave me." Tauriel's words flew like a river over rapids. "It glows when we head toward Fili's stone. Sealyn has it and it guides us."

"Argh!" Fergard tugged at his beard in self-recrimination. "Brilliant! Brilliant! Never would have thought of it!"

"But there's molten ore blocking the path, a run-off to save the smelters I believe." Tauriel concluded. "Eastern shaft. Nori said third down from the Bell-tack split." She pronounced the word awkwardly, but recognizably.

"Beltak!" Fergard roared in recognition and screaming for reinforcements. He pointed out those who needed to stay on the Tigett work as Kili rounded up all he could for the rescue effort.

In short order they were speeding on their way.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Intermittent shouting had been the rule of the day ever since the initial assault on Erebor. So Thorin paid it little heed as he listened to Thranduil outline where their combined forces would do the most good for mutual defense. Where to watch, where to dig in.

Indeed it was Cirdan the Shipwright who looked up first, listening. The bearded elf smiled gently as if hearing something the others could not. "I do believe possibility can become probability, and perhaps even good news." He smiled and waved at the guards at the door. "You might want them to stand down. I think this message has importance of some sort."

Thorin scowled as Thranduil drew up, affronted at being interrupted. Though Galadriel looked intrigued.

Glorfindel moved to the doorway and looked out, listening. "Someone shouts for King Thorin. Female. Elven accent. But not … ah, I believe it is the Lady Arwen coming this way."

"Arwen?" Elrond frowned slightly, looking worried.

Thorin popped his neck and rolled his shoulders, glancing around the room. When he got to Cirdan, he realized that everyone else was watching the door. Except the Shipwright, who was looking at him. The dwarven king met the elf's gaze head on, wondering what this could be about. Then he sucked in a harsh breath. Fili. Without any real cause he knew this was about his heir. "Let her through!" He roared suddenly, breaking eye contact with the elf as he hurried toward the shouting female.

Elrond drew back his feet as Thorin rushed by him, lest he be trampled on, but then rose to follow. "Whatever is the matter?"

"Let her through!" Thorin yelled and pushed out the open doorway and past his own guards, moving toward the oncoming she-elf. "Well?"

"Found Fili, we think. Something to do with dwarf magic. Nori and Bifur and Sealyn and Tauriel went to get help and …."

"WHERE?" Thorin shouted over the stumbled explanation. His heart near stopping at the news.

Arwen paled and closed her eyes, obviously trying to remember. It took everything Thorin had not to grab her and shake the news loose from her lips. "Eastern something, third down. Belltrack split? Tauriel knows! She went to the Triget, nay the Tigett."

"Tigett." Thorin calmed somewhat as he gestured at the dwarrow around him. "Find Tauriel! Move down toward the Eastern shafts. Possibly the third down and unless I miss my guess, near the Beltak split!"

"Nori is there with Bifur and Sealyn and Erelinde." Arwen called out in a rush. "But there's melted metals flowing down there and it's in the way."

Thorin paled, knowing that Bombur had diverted the products of broken smelters toward unworked shafts for safety.

"Child, slow down." Elrond spoke up reassuringly at his daughter. "You've done well."

Arwen shook her head. "It was Sealyn, well and Nori and Bifur. Using the warning-stone that my mother's mother gifted to Kuilaith. Something to do with a spell for gem finding, sister-stones they called it."

Galadriel shook her head, unfamiliar with such a thing. "I sang no such magic into those stones."

Thorin whistled low through his teeth. "If you found those stones together, from the same rock face, it might work. But that would not work down here in the mines unless…."

"The rocks were from outside, so as to absorb light from the moon, sun and stars. They weren't from inside the mines. We worked that part out." Arwen hurried to explain.

Thorin stared at the she-elf, who was near out of breath and with her color high with hope. "We think we can find him." Arwen spoke firmly. "We think we have, but the metals are in the way, as well as fill-in and what-have-you."

Thorin pointed at the she-elf as he roared for the surrounding dwarrow for those with the skills and equipment they would need.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"How long has it been?"

Bofur's voice cut through the silence, and that's when Fili realized that he had fallen silent. He hadn't realized. He'd been drifting, nearly asleep. He blinked his eyes, stretching. "Did I tell you about the time Kili was chasing the elk and the animal turned on him and chased him for two miles instead? He limped for three days after that."

"Yes." Bofur yawned. "Did I tell you about when Bombur used to be skinny enough that he snuck right by the two merchants arguing on who was going to gift Irrelis with jewelry."

"Yes." Fili smiled in the near darkness. "And he was carrying a pie he'd made for her. How those two idiots didn't smell the pie, I can't imagine."

"Tell me about Erelinde." Bofur asked.

Fili's smile disappeared and he ducked his head. "Tell me about Brunere." He countered, unable to bring himself to focus on the white-blond dam he was trying to court. Not down here. If he focused on her he might lose all hope of seeing her again, and he couldn't face that, not right now.

Hearing the hesitation, Bofur grunted, but did not push. "She's sweet and incredibly kind. Seen her sooth an injured dwarrow with a touch and a smile. Never seems to get impatient enough to listen, even to small gripes."

"You'd know." Fili teased. "How often have you been to the healing halls since her arrival?"

"Erebor is a dangerous place." Bofur said lightly, then his voice faded as they both realized the truth of that last statement.

Fili looked around, there wasn't much to see, not with the very small glow they had as their only light source. Would this be his grave? Somehow, it was better here than on the road to getting here. "We made it, didn't we?"

Bofur didn't understand in that first instant, taking a moment as his foggy brain deciphered the words. "Erebor? Yes. We're here." Neither said aloud that they might remain there. Waiting.

"It's hot." Fili suddenly said.

"Been hot." Bofur muttered.

"Hotter." The prince sighed. "Or it's my imagination."

"Could be hallucinating." Bofur offered with false cheer. "Though if you was to hallucinate, I'd hope for something a mite better than it getting hotter. Dream up something better, lad. Like Erelinde. With water."

"A lake of water." Fili smacked his lips loudly. "Then ale."

"Aye." Chuckled the hatted dwarf. He paused and the two fell silent again. "Did I tell you about the time in a Human town when Bifur was nearly hung as a thief for stealing his own shoes?"

Fili blinked, his eyes feeling as dry as his lips. "No, no I don't believe so. Or I've forgotten already."

"Well then …." Bofur settled back with a groan and started in with the tale.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"The glow is still strong." Thorin's brows were lowered in a glare that had Sealyn looking away from him. She couldn't leave. It was her spell and her hand on the stone. If she let go, the spell would break. As hard a time as they'd had making it work in the first place, no one wanted that to happen.

"Unless you're digging, get out of the area!" Barked an irate Stormrune, poking his head up and out of the hole he was digging in the floor of the second Eastern shaft. Down past where the metals were, so they judged, and hopefully to the center of whatever pocket held Prince Fili.

Thorin's eyebrows rose, and he wanted to protest violently, but knew it wasn't practical. He glanced at the others surrounding them and judged they all needed to move back and allow the professional miners to do their work. "Come."

"Sealyn? Hold steady lass, hold steady." Fergard's voice gentled for the dwarrowdam as the others backed away down the tunnel to where it widened in an area meant to load raw ore and rock into metal trolley cars.

Tauriel, Arwen and Erelinde all looked ready to fall over. Yet Thorin knew if he suggested any of the three leave he'd have a bloody fight on his hands. Females. Didn't matter the race. He snorted and looked over to the other side. Dis, with Balin and Dwalin.

Hours had passed since they'd been called down here. Hours spent arguing on the best way to bypass the metal run-off. Time spent soothing a near hysterical Bombur who was still crying and sniffling that he hadn't known anyone to be working down here and if anyone was injured it was all his fault.

Thorin sighed, not that he blamed the rotund dwarf. Bombur had been working to save dwarrow lives, and he'd done so admirably. It wasn't his fault that Saruman had betrayed them. And it wasn't Thorin's fault either. Yet the king, although not crying and sniffling, wanting to roar that it was his fault. Hadn't he sent Fili down to work the mines to get him and his anger out of the way? To work off his temper?

Wasn't he the one who'd betrayed both his sister-son's in the first place, building Fili's rage and anger in the first place?

"It's not your fault."

Thorin turned, facing Gandalf for the first time since the attack on Erebor. He stared, but the wizard did not back down nor say anything else. The king let out a large sigh. "Is."

"Could be mine." Gandalf said, looking humble.

Thorin snorted in exhausted and dark amusement. "I used to buy into that innocent and humble expression of yours."

The Gray Wizard blinked as if hurt by the accusation, then he gave a small chuckle. "I am most innocent and humble, I assure you."

Thorin waved off the words, not wanting to pursue that conversational gambit. "Is he still alive?"

Gandalf made a low noise in the back of his throat and then shook his head. "I have no way of knowing."

"Are you the new head of the Wizard's Order?" Thorin switched topics with no fanfare.

"Erm, not to my knowledge, nor do I seek such." Gandalf shook his head.

"What is Saruman's next move? What will Sauron do? Will we have time to rebuild, or will another major attack arrive to run us over?" Thorin snorted and shook his head. "You don't know the answers to these questions either."

"No." Gandalf admitted. "But I do know that I would help, if you will but let me."

"Like I could stop you."

"You could, with a simple word. Say me nay and I will leave."

Thorin eyed the over-tall wizard. "Nay."

Gandalf blinked as if taken aback. He even looked a bit hurt. "I will leave you then."

"But would you leave us be, or would you still work to protect this area from Mordor? Can you leave? Really and truly?"

"Do you want me to?" Gandalf asked.

Thorin groaned and shook his head. "I never could warm to Saruman such as I have to you."

"You warmed to me?" The wizard asked as if this was news to him, drawing back with surprise covering his face.

Thorin actually laughed, breaking the tension between them. "Fool."

"I have grown fond of your prickly hide, Thorin Oakenshield. Despite your grumpy and grouchy ways."

"Saruman's actions have to have hurt you." The king asked without asking.

Gandalf nodded in acknowledgement. "Messages have been sent on ahead. Rohan rides at break-neck pace to Isengard. Saruman will find no succor there."

"Rohan?" Thorin thought of what he knew of the Human kingdoms. "Makes sense. Good." He glanced over at where the work continued to dig through to Fili. Hopefully.

"This effort of the dwarrowdam is affecting." Gandalf said as both males watched Sealyn accept a drink from one of the miners.

Thorin nodded, grateful down to the marrow in his dense dwarven bones. "Tauriel explained how it was Sealyn, Arwen and Bifur who worked the spell. And how Nori and Brunere helped to pull it all together."

"Taking none of the credit." Gandalf said in a near whisper.

Thorin nodded. "I know she didn't do any of the actual workings of the spell, but I have no doubt she was involved in pushing on the need to find a way to find Fili. It was the stone she was wearing that brought this about."

"Your sister-son's hearts have led them to good females." The Wizard continued.

Thorin nodded and turned to stare over at an oblivious Erelinde, who was staring at the rescue operation as if it were her life on the line. "I don't know that she will be a good choice, though I like her well enough."

"Will you have Dis gauge the lass? Train her?"

Thorin nearly choked at the mere thought, shaking his head though he knew that Gandalf was well-meaning in this at least. "Nay. I'll send Balin, he's enough like an old dwarrowdam."

"I shall tell him you said so." Came the dry response.

The king rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Do so, and I will be at war with my own counselor. Please desist. I need him yet. Still, I'll have him hold off until after …." He waved at the miners still digging.

Gandalf knew what the king meant. If Fili were Waiting, then the point would be moot and Erelinde would be a heart-broken young dam instead of a potential queen.

"It stopped!" …. "It went out!" … "What's wrong?"

Everyone looked around, Kili jumping up and racing to the edge of the work area before anyone else could react. His face was bone pale and he was shouting at the miners as Thorin approached. "What?"

"The signal-stone, it stopped glowing!" Sealyn shook her fist, as if trying to shake it loose and make it shine again.

Arwen spoke up from behind the king, where she'd silently approached. "Could it just be that it has found was it was designed to find? The other stone?"

Fergard's expression turned thoughtful and he dropped down to his belly and stuck his head in the hole as he yelled down at the burrowing miners. He looked back up, hope on his face. "They think they're about to break through. We need to back up now."

Everyone did so, except Thorin. Fergard looked at the king's set face and decided not to argue the point.

Sounds of metal on rock carried upwards to those waiting on the tense edge of sanity. Hope and fear filling the area as a shout rang up from the hole.

Fergard looked up, licking his lips. "They're through. No one calls though, we're going to lower someone down."

Thorin held his breath until his lungs protested. This was going to take longer than he'd like. No one spoke though except for the workers. Ropes lowered and everything went silent again.

A tug on the rope was the signal and it began to be drawn upward, winched by two burly dwarves. The head first clearing the edge of the hole was one of the miners, followed by dark, matted hair.

Dis groaned and had to be held up by Balin and Dwalin.

It wasn't Fili.

Bombur shouted. "Bofur!"

Thorin blinked, realigning his mental image of his friend with the limp form being carried up through the hole in the ground. It was indeed Bofur, though without his hat and stripped down to a mere shirt instead of his normal leathers. He started breathing again. "He lives?" The king called, his voice rough with emotion.

"He breathes." Came the response, followed by a humongous cheer among those waiting. "Out cold."

"Bring him here." Elrond stood next to Oin, who had travelled from the healing halls in response to the king's summons.

"Fili?" Dis groaned, though she was standing tall and on her own again.

"Bringing him up."

Thorin's teeth ground together in anticipation. Bofur's pitiful body passed him and he didn't like seeing his animated friend looking so lifeless. He touched the dwarrow as he was carried out, frowning to feel how hot he was. "He's fevered."

"Dehydrated most likely." Arwen said, still behind him, her voice still tight with worry. It made Thorin like her just that much more.

The ropes descended again, and again there was the pall of waiting. Finally the tugged signal and the dwarrow began winching up Fili.

Thorin felt like he could count each and every heartbeat, so hard was that organ working within his chest. His mouth was dry and he was afraid to blink, in case he missed the first sight of Fili being rescued.

Finally there was that blond head, matted and dirty and full of dust and grime, but it was still Fili. Thorin beamed with relief and then nearly fell on his knees when he saw those blue eyes blinking blearily at him.

A roar went up the likes of which Thorin wasn't sure he'd ever heard before. He grinned and ignored safety protocols and his own orders as he moved to intercept his sister-son. Fili stepped away from the rope harness looking shaky, but under his own power.

Thorin reached him and hugged him tightly, feeling the feverish temperature of his nephew and the shaky weakness from dehydration. "Took you long enough."

Fili choked. "You stole my words." His voice sounded weak but wonderful.

More cheering and applause as Fili lifted his head, looking around. His eyes stopped on one lone female, staring at him as if her very life depended upon it.

Fili froze, then nodded grimly. He let go of Thorin and held out his arm for her.

Dis sobbed and walked straight into her son's embrace as he held her to his chest. She cried and wept as he held her, whispering soothing things into her ear.

Thorin smiled grimly, unable to look away. A sniff had him turning though, surprised that Arwen was dabbing at her eyes with a piece of cloth.

"Let the healers have him, Dis." Dwalin called to her, a smile on his own face.

"No." The dwarrowdam protested, even as she let her son go, pushing him toward Oin. "Go, go."

Thorin walked up to his sister, catching her hand lest she try to follow Fili as he was pushed down onto a bench while Oin inspected him. He felt Dis' muscles jerk as they saw the young blond catch sight of Erelinde and his sudden wide grin.

"Don't interfere." Thorin advised as Fili raised his hand to the young dwarrowdam and she accepted, letting him pull her down onto the bench next to him.

"I'm not." Dis whispered. "I'm not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am EXTREMELY behind in answering reviews, for this I apologize deeply. Still, I thought you might rather have the new chapter finished rather than a response. So here you go!


	57. In which Kili's whereabouts are revealed

"Here, please, you need this." Dis said worriedly as she ran a shaky hand over her youngest son's brunet hair.

Kili shook his head mutely at his mother, his own worried eyes following the movements of the miners as they rigged up a line to safely carry workers across the small river of cooling, yet still melted ores. "I should be helping!"

"Hardly an expert in this area, laddie." Balin sounded equally as unhappy to be doing nothing but watching.

"You haven't eaten in over a day." Dis pressed the bowl of soup at her son, but Kili only pushed it aside. "I worry about you."

The young brunet knew his mother was worried, about Fili, about him, about all of this. Her face was pale and drawn tight, her blue eyes fairly miserable. His stony expression softened. "I'm sorry, Mam. I just can't not yet. My stomach is a knot."

Dis nodded quietly, even as she frowned sharply. She turned and looked where the dwarrow were watching so intently. A massive effort to try and rescue Fili. Finally. She looked back just as she saw Thorin and Lord Elrond approaching with Tauriel. The dwarrowdam stiffened at the sight of the elves.

It confused her. Her whole life had been spent with her family vilifying the entire Elven race. Her marriage to one of them had not changed her views, although they had not exactly been unkind to her. Still, it had been a horrible time in her life, losing Nehili and being shoved into an unwanted marriage. Had that clouded her judgement on the elves unfairly? Dis shifted her weight uncomfortable with her thoughts. Tauriel and that Arwen had been a large part of the efforts to locate and save Fili. For that alone she should love them. Dis pressed her lips close together as the others joined them. Perhaps the elves would settle for her not actively hating them at least. If she could manage.

The two leaders looked less than fresh, sweat and grime covered both as Thorin grunted a greeting, while Elrond bowed slightly. Kili frowned at the leader from Rivendell, as if unsure or uneasy about something.

Before he could speak, however, Tauriel held a plate with some food and a cup, ignoring her bandaged hands. "Kili, you should eat."

Dis couldn't help the smile as her son shook his head and demurred, stating he could not eat.

"Please? We will have need of your strength, I am sure." Tauriel said evenly, without inflection or pleading.

Kili gave her a quick look, his expression softening as his eyes lingered on her injured eye with the bruising and swelling there. He took the proffered cup of water, managing to drain it in a few seconds. He then picked a small bit of bread and meat off the plate and gave his love a grateful smile meant to reassure her.

Dis' smile disappeared as she fought not to sigh aloud. Sure. Let the red-head give him food, he'd take it from her. She turned away, only to catch Balin's sympathetic gaze upon her. Her chin rose, refusing to let him see her hurt.

"They go across?" Elrond asked curiously, watching as the dwarrow attached Sealyn and others to harnesses in preparation.

Thorin nodded, leaving it to Balin to explain that Fergard was seeking the best and safest way to reach Fili. Instead the king moved next to his sister-son. "You are well?"

Kili sniffed derisively, but nodded. "If you mean has Gandalf and Celeborn made sure that there was no stink of Saruman rattling around in my head? Yes. I'm clear." He didn't sound happy about it though as his expressive dark eyes moved back over to Lord Elrond. "Shouldn't you be in the healing halls?"

With Elladan. That bit was left unspoken.

"Nuluin has all well in hand." Elrond responded evenly. "And I might be needed here." He did not explain that watching his son do nothing but barely hang on to life had been draining in more ways than one. He'd needed to be here. "I will be notified of any changes."

"Is he …." Kili swallowed, unable to voice his question fully. He waved one hand in a circling motion.

"Awake? Not as yet." The tall elf said calmly, masking his feelings on the matter.

The brunet prince frowned at hearing the elven father sound so even keeled, he shook his head. "Going to be alright?"

Elrond watched the emotions fly across the youngster's face, concern, worry, fear, hope, and even guilt. He wasn't sure what words he could offer that would help. "We do not yet know, though every moment he yet breathes is a goodly sign."

Kili groaned, shaking his head in clear worry. "What happened to him? Exactly? Rumors are everywhere." He said, very uncomfortable to have to ask the question when he'd supposedly been there. "I was knocked out for that part."

At the abashed sound of the prince's voice, both Elrond and Thorin stiffened. "You don't recall?" The King Under the Mountain asked his nephew.

Bitterly Kili dropped what remained of his food onto Tauriel's plate and shook his head. "I was gone. Out. I was of no use in that fight."

Now truly uncomfortable, Elrond slid his gaze over to meet that of King Thorin's. Neither said anything at first. Finally the dwarven monarch roughly cleared his throat. "What do the rumors say?"

"That Elladan, my father, stepped in and took a blow meant for me." Kili sounded absolutely miserable. "That it had been meant as a killing blow from what I've heard."

"True enough." Elrond said cautiously.

Dis shifted, her brow furrowed with unnamed emotions. "He did that?"

"Without hesitation." Thorin said stonily, not backing away from offering praise to one he didn't always like. "Saruman stated he was going to kill you and then Elladan was in his way. No effort to block, just …he intervened so the blow would not land on you."

Kili's eyes closed as if in pain, a low moan escaping him. "He shouldn't have done that." He whispered.

Dis frowned, her breathing heavier as she considered how her erstwhile husband had sacrificed perhaps his own life for that of his son. One he barely knew. Her entire being ached, wondering briefly, had she misjudged what kind of father the elf might have been? He'd been naught but a walking ghost-like figure when she'd left though.

"There are rumors that Kili struck a blow on the wizard." Tauriel spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

The prince himself denied the charge. "No." He shook his head firmly.

"Yes." Elrond and Thorin echoed one another, as if with one voice.

Kili's eyes rounded on them, wide and stunned. "No, I didn't."

The Dwarven King shrugged and nodded. "Your studies with the Lady and Elladan must have paid off. You did, but that effort is what knocked you out. Not Saruman."

Elrond watched uneasily, not sure that they should discuss what had happened in the study with everyone, and not in public. "Perhaps that should be best left to rumor."

"Why?" Dis asked, her feelings raw and exposed, leaving her confused on so many subjects. "Dwarves don't hide their heroics."

Balin shook his head and shrugged. "Maybe we should, with Mordor involved. Though what kind of secret it can be, I'll not hazard a guess. Saruman easily enough knows, and I'm guessing that what he knows, his Dark Master knows as well. Or soon will."

Seemingly unhappy, Elrond made a slight bow of acquiescence. "Point."

Thorin gave a less than pleased smile. "Or perhaps it shouldn't be bandied around dwarrow sensibilities to know that my sister-son glowed and attacked in a distinctly elven manner."

Kili jumped visibly, his mouth agape. "Glowed?" His voice rose alarmingly. "Really?"

Tauriel smiled tentatively at him as if pleased, but even she still appeared nervous. Clearly the she-elf was picking up on Elrond and Thorin's reluctance to discuss this matter too thoroughly.

Dis, however, frowned sharply. "Glowed?" She sounded as if the very word or idea was foreign to her and she wasn't sure exactly what was meant in this context.

"It's an elf thing." Kili threw the explanation at his mother, who looked no clearer on the subject.

Elrond nearly flinched at the half-hazard way the young princling threw out the words, as if his action had been nothing. "You were able to gather the Eldar light whilst I could not. Saruman had blocked myself and your father from doing such a thing."

Dis wasn't sure whether to be pleased or appalled. Her hand reached out blindly toward Balin, who caught her grip. "What does all this mean? For Kili?"

"It means that Kuilaith grows stronger." Elrond said, glossing over much. This was a subject he'd have to mull over at great length. Perhaps consult Galadriel.

"Oh." Kili muttered, shaking his head as he searched his memory. "I tried that, but the wizard knocked me back and I couldn't access the light like my lessons said. It was, as if he was between me and what I needed."

Elrond nodded, he too had felt the same.

Balin frowned. "Did Saruman use most of his strength on Lord Elrond and his son? I know Elladan yet lives because the wizard didn't put as much power in trying to kill a mortal dwarrow as he should have when the blow was taken by an immortal elf."

"I am unsure." The leader from Rivendell admitted. "It is a matter that will take a great deal of consideration."

"Which means in a millennia we might have an answer." Kili scoffed, deliberately trying to lighten the moment. He paused, trying hard to remember all that occurred. "I just know I couldn't center myself, I was trying hard to keep Saruman from shutting me down entirely."

"You did well." Thorin said, then looked over at the rescue operations. "They don't look happy."

"I'll see what's going on." Balin offered, moving off toward Fergard and the other miners after giving Dis' hand one last squeeze for comfort.

Kili frowned, his attention no longer on past events, but what was happening in front of him. "I should be helping!"

"You're no miner lad." Thorin said quietly, though without any sting in his words. "You'd be in the way. As would I."

Elrond frowned, watching. "Could not the mountain itself tell you of your heir's location?"

Thorin grimaced. He and the other dwarves had sung the Song of Stone in the presence of the elves out of sheer necessity and survival. He didn't have to like it, though. "If such were possible, it would already have been done. Our songs don't work that way."

Kili paled, his dark eyes dropping to the ground. No one seemed to notice, except. "What is wrong?" Tauriel asked immediately, hyperaware of her betrothed at the moment.

The brunet shook his head, not answering, even as the others turned to look at him. He groaned as his uncle and king pinned him with a stare. "I just ….I ….well, apparently I glowed earlier. But I couldn't ….I couldn't feel the Song." His voice trailed off, his eyes woebegone.

Dis nearly swayed at the news. Thorin did not appear to react at all. He stared at Kili for long moments then abruptly shook his head. "Means nothing."

"But …"

"No. You've never lived here in Erebor, you're not a miner and have never lived below ground like a proper Dwarf. I have not introduced you to the Mountain properly. It means nothing."

"I concur."

Surprised, everyone looked over at the tall elf lord. Elrond shook his head very slightly. "Kuilaith holds a greater percentage of dwarven blood. The fact that he was even able to access the Eldar light and focus it enough to brighten his soul, is amazing."

"Brighten his soul?" Thorin echoed, then sighed. "Just say he glowed, it's easier."

"Not as accurate." Tauriel murmured, but nodded at the king.

"I didn't do it on purpose." Kili nearly wailed, feeling shaky. Tauriel immediately put one of her bandaged hands on his shoulder in support. He put his own hand over her wrist, thanking her silently.

Balin hurried over to their group, his expression clearly worried. "They got Sealyn across, but the fill-in is too heavy and unstable. It will take days to get through."

Dis shook her head, fear and desperation making it feel like she'd taken a blow to her chest. She threw a look of pleading at Thorin, as if the king could do anything about the news.

"He will not have days." Tauriel protested sharply. "Is there no other way?"

Balin made a gesture and everyone quieted. "Fergard feels that if we move to the second shaft and locate where Fili is from that location, we can dig down through."

"Bypassing the melted ores and the fill-in." Thorin grunted, grasping the idea at once. He looked at the elves, gratified to see their worry over the missing crown prince. "It's safer and faster."

"As you say." Elrond bowed, having no knowledge of mining practices or conditions.

Tauriel did not look as convinced. "Should we leave diggers down here, just in case? What if there is a problem and we lose time?"

Dis stared at the red-head, amazed at the thought processes as well as the clear concern. For Fili. This she-elf, she really wasn't after riches or a crown. She loved her son, what concerned him she now worried over as well. No, that was unfair. Clearly Tauriel was upset and worried for Fili in his own right.

Dis watched as Kili soothed Tauriel's concerns, explaining what was going to happen and why it was the best idea. Uncomfortable with the loving manner shared between the two, she looked away.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Oh."

Elrohir looked up from where he sat beside his twin's bed. His gray-eyed gaze focusing in on his young nephew. He blinked, fear rising within him as he asked. "Fili?"

Hearing the distress in the elf's voice, Kili quickly shook his head. "We don't know yet. They're moving operations to the second Eastern shaft, digging straight down." His hands mimed what was happening as he spoke. "It's going to take a while."

Elrohir nodded in understanding. "How long?" He asked, pushing one long fall of his dark hair behind his ear in an almost nervous gesture.

Kili shrugged, recognizing in his uncle what was in himself. A hatred of being still and simply waiting. "Hours, they say. They won't let me help. I'm not accustomed to mining."

"So you came up here." The elf nodded at him, rising to give the youngster the only chair in the room. "I as well."

Kili looked around, frowning lightly. "This is a supply room."

"It's private and quiet and unfortunately, supplies are now at a low." Elrohir said with a small bite to his tone that Kili knew was not aimed at him. "Nuluin and Oin felt the quiet to be important right now, and the main healing halls are a riot of activity unfortunately."

"Supplies are arriving on the morrow. That bearded elf. I haven't met him yet, but they say the beard is real."

"That bearded elf, as you call him, is an ancient being of wisdom and light." Elrohir rejoined with a small grin. "Older even than your father's mother's mother."

"Oh yes? Well, young as I am, I can glow now." Kili huffed and then grinned, though not with his usual verve. The grin did not last long either. "He doesn't stir?" A small pause, then he added. "My father?"

"He rests." Elrohir gestured toward the still empty seat.

Kili shook his head. "Nay, I've got to get back down to the rescue. I just …had …I had …."

"I understand."

"No. I don't think you do." Kili said, though with no heat or anger in his voice. "Celeborn once accused me of neither being a part of the family, or completely out of the family. Unable to be either."

Elrohir watched him, offering no judgements, just being there and listening.

"He …" Kili gestured toward the prone figure on the bed, far too pale and still. "He has no such reservations. Rushing across the whole land to find me, then taking the time to get to know me, and now stepping in front of a death blow for me."

The elf warrior did not know how to respond, so he didn't, just waiting until Kili continued.

"I don't understand him." The young brunet finished weakly. "I've fought him, been cold to him, ignored him, been angry with him …"

"He loves you."

"Why?"

Elrohir sighed, wishing he was accounted as wise as either his father or his mother's parents. Still the wisdom of the Noldor was that of knowledge, not always the wisdom of knowing what was needed to be said. "Why do you love your brother?"

Kili growled. "Not the same, I've known him my whole life."

"And there's no one else you've known your entire life that you don't love, love absolutely?" Elrohir prodded.

Kili shook his head. "Of course. Acquaintances, some I like, some I love, and some I barely tolerate. But Fili is my brother, you should understand."

"I do." Elrohir acknowledged smoothly. "Now, say you find out that Fili had a child he nor you knew anything about. Ignore dwarven physiology and awakening …under extraordinary circumstances you can barely believe, the truth is that Fili has a child you've never met. Do you love him?"

Kili stared, badly shaken at the analogy but knowing he had to answer. It was him who had started this, after all. "Yes. He'd be a part of my brother."

"No matter if he was tall, short, wide or wiry, kind or not it doesn't matter." He paused in order to make his point. "Does it?"

The young brunet prince shook his head, his dark eyes wide with sadness. His gaze moving from one brother, to the other. Elladan barely looked alive, his chest rising and falling very slowly.

"We loved you from the first instant. Liking you took a bit longer, but not much. Learning who you are is a process that will never end."

Kili nodded to show he'd heard, but was still processing the answer.

"Sit."

"My brother …."

Elrohir understood completely. "Will be hours from rescued. Take a moment, ease your mind."

Kili sank into the chair, his eyes not leaving his father's face. "I don't want him to die."

His uncle smiled grimly, pleased to see the lad's progress in accepting Elladan, though grieving on what had brought about the change. "You two have much to learn of each other still. He is too stubborn to die." He hoped.

"He saved me."

Elrohir nodded, having heard that much already. "That is who he is."

"I glowed. In that study, I glowed. He got to see that much at least, though I don't remember it exactly. Thorin and Elrond both said so."

"The Eldar light? I did not think your studies had advanced so far." In fact, he knew that they hadn't. Still. The lad had sent out that mental 'shout' when the crevice had opened beneath him and his father that one time. "It seems stress and danger bring out the best in your abilities."

Kili made a strangled kind of laugh. "Apparently. And what is it with elves and trees? Always it's trees."

"Light." Elrohir admonished lightly. "The Eldar light lies within us, and we treasure the light of the moon, the stars, and the sun. Mostly the moon, for it refreshes us. Yes, we can listen to the trees, and we live among them as fruit of the light. But trees don't give us power."

Kili frowned, finally looking over at his uncle. "I don't know about that. I couldn't focus like I was supposed to, Saruman's fault probably. Still, I definitely saw trees. Two of them, glowing and perfect. Then I don't remember anything at all."

Elrohir stared, unmindful as Kili looked back down at his father. "Two of them?" He asked, a bit surprised. "Glowing?"

"One gold and one silver I think." Kili said, unknowing how his words were cutting his elvish uncle to the core of his being. "I've never seen actual trees that look like that."

The tall elf stared at Kuilaith's back, his mouth nearly hanging open like a gate unhinged. Slowly his face blanked and he was able to pull himself together. "Gold and silver?"

"Kind of like cherry trees, but the leaves were all wrong."

"Did they appear as if birch leaves?" Elrohir asked, mindful of his history lessons.

Kili sniffed and shrugged. "Maybe. I just remember they were glowing and warm and Saruman's presence couldn't get near them." He frowned suddenly. "I think that's right anyway."

"Can you …will you stay but a moment longer? I need …I have to speak with the Lady. It will be hours you said, before news of Fili."

"I'd still like to get back." Kili looked around, surprised to see that Elrohir's face was an expressionless mask. "Is something wrong?"

"Give me but a moment, I will be back in a matter of minutes." The tall elf assured him.

"Is anything wrong?"

Elrohir blinked, then smiled palely. "No. I don't think so, but I will be back shortly." He paused then smiled. "I'm very proud of you, glowing like that."

Kili sniffed dismissively. "Don't be. Not sure how I managed it, don't know that I could again." He nodded toward his uncle. "Hurry, I'll stay but I need to get back to Fili, even if it does take hours to dig down to him."

"Understood." Elrohir bobbed his head and slid from the room, moving at great speed as he mentally called for the Lady of Light.

Left alone, Kili stared at his father's face, seeking any similarity between the two of them. He could not call to mind any straight resemblance, more the fact that his own face was a blending between elven and dwarven features. Too refined to be of one race, too unrefined to be of the other.

Elves. Tree loving, light seeking, elves. Kili looked up and around the stone room. Perfect. For a dwarf. But his father was in no way a dwarrow. "You need light don't you?" He whispered.

No answer came his way.

Kili frowned, feeling a dull ache deep within his heart. "Please wake up." He begged. "I …I haven't given you a proper chance, not really. There's so much we haven't said to each other."

The young prince waited in the silence, straining to hear the sound of his father's breathing.

"I don't snore either." Kili said aloud, feeling a bit silly. "And you should know, I detest spinach. Oh, it's alright with cheese. Mam, she makes this one dish with spinach that I like." He smiled. "See, mam isn't all bad you know. Or you don't know, but I could tell you. If you'd but wake up."

There was no response. Of course there was no response. Kili leaned in, staring intently at his father. "Don't let that damned wizard beat you. Please. I promise, I'll listen more to your lessons."

The more he stared at his father's too still form, the more Kili was sure that the elf couldn't recover. Not here. Not underground. "We need to get you above ground. Take you someplace where you can see the light of the moon and stars whenever you want. Somewhere where stone doesn't surround you." He paused, his whole body aching. "I'll take you." He promised. "See? You'll get me out of Erebor for a little while. You win. Only, you need to wake up."

Nothing.

"I'll promise to listen to trees. Every tree. And breathe." Kili promised.

"Every tree?"

Undignified Kili came up out of his chair with a screaming shout and spun, staring, his breathing harsh and fast as he glared with wide-eyed shock. "Lady?"

Galadriel, the Lady of the Wood, smiled encouragingly at him. Next to her was a silver-haired elf with kind hazel eyes and … "You really do have a beard."

Cirdan the Shipwright smiled gently at the young prince. "Yes, I do."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Seventy-one years old and still reigning like a young man. Or still carrying on like a young man." The rider spat to the side of his well-trained horse as he thought of the king so often warring with others as well as his own military commanders. "I think it time he call his son home from Gondor."

"King Fengel and his son Thengel haven't spoken in years." The second rider said coolly. "Do you think this rogue wizard will come back to Isengard now that we hold it?"

"Don't be a skittish colt." The first of the Rohirrim riders mocked lightly. "Isengard is now cut off to the White Wizard."

"You ever met him?" The second, though older, rider asked.

"Nay." The young warrior spat again and shrugged. "Not good enough to be rubbing shoulders with the likes of wizards. Excepting that odd Gray fellow that travels through every so often. King Fengel isn't the fondest of him though, but I hear that the prince has hosted him in Gondor before." He paused before continuing. "Our commander likes him well enough."

"A prince of the Riddermark, married to someone from Gondor. And living there! If he ever has a son, he'd be more likely to speak Westron than Rohirric."

"Enough of this. We have a watch to keep. Hold." The man peered off toward the edge of the woods. "Is someone coming this way?"

The younger of the two looked and shook his head. "Just an old man in a cloak. With that great long beard, he's of no threat to us."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili cast a surreptitious look over at the strange bearded elf, uneasy in his presence no matter how warmly the fellow had greeted him. This was an elf from another kingdom, one not related to him. No bonds whatsoever. What did he think of a partially dwarven elf?

"Cirdan has great love and respect for your father's father as well as Elladan himself."

Kili hissed at the Lady Galadriel as she sat on the one chair in the room, which he'd vacated politely for her. He turned his dark eyes upon her.

"Be at peace." The golden she-elf laughed warmly as she eyed her ruffled young descendant. "No, I do not read your thoughts. They are but writ plain upon your face."

Kili blinked at her, still riled but willing to take her word. She had never told him an untruth, not to his knowledge. "Where's Elrohir?" He asked, his voice sounding rather plaintive. It was clear that he felt in need of support.

"Watching the rescue efforts for young Fili, he is to fetch you if there is any momentum in bringing your brother to light." Galadriel reassured the brunet.

"That's where I should be." Kili protested immediately, actually taking a step toward the door. Stopped as the new elf moved up beside Galadriel. The young prince stilled in spite of himself and his need to check on the progress of the rescue operation.

Cirdan knelt beside the Lady of Light, belying his great age with his graceful and lithe movements. The dwarrow thought it unfair and unnatural even.

"Elrohir tells me that you were able to bring forth and brighten the light of your soul."

Kili's eyebrows immediately furrowed as he growled. "Can't you just say glowed? I glowed. I don't remember it. Ask Elrond or Thorin, they saw. I didn't even know I'd done it."

"I spoke briefly with Lord Elrond before coming up to visit with you, Kuilaith." The Lady said with some emotion in her voice that Kili could not identify. "He said that you were the one to strike Saruman down long enough to free him and the others so they could fight back. It was this break in the wizard's power that allowed me to sense something wrong. It was your efforts that saved this entire kingdom."

Kili fairly squirmed on his feet, not at ease with these two beings staring at him, though he had to admit they weren't acting threatening. "I did nothing special." When they continued to look at him, Kili grimaced. "I knocked myself out apparently. And it's not like I did anything new. I've used my Eldar light once before."

Galadriel watched him, blinking very slowly as she focused on his face. "No. The first time you threw down the mental walls within you and gathered the Eldar Light to use as a battering ram in order to send your call for aid. This. This was different."

Kili blushed hotly, though Cirdan smiled encouragingly at him. "It was well done, child."

"Not a child." The young prince grumped under his breath.

"To Cirdan, even I am yet a child." Galadriel offered the small sop to her great-grandson's pride. "Please, his form of address is no judgement on you or your maturity."

"Indeed not." The Shipwright said smoothly. "My apologies young Kuilaith."

Kili stared at the newly arrived elf and shook his head. "It's so strange, you having a beard."

"You are not the first to think so." Cirdan's smile only grew, in both size and warmth. "Durin gave me beads to decorate my beard, but I never got the hang of it."

"Which one?" Kili blinked several times in rapid succession, trying to wrap his mind around what the elf had just said.

"There is only one Durin, with the memories of all. He is born anew and has a new life separate from the others, but he is still only Durin." Cirdan said.

Kili stared, opened his mouth, and then closed his mouth, next groaning aloud. "You need to talk to Balin. I think you're wrong, but don't have the proper arguments to hold this conversation. He might."

"I am unsure of that line of thought myself, having met the Durins and finding them all quite individual." Galadriel smiled. "But alas, that is a topic not for this day."

"I look forward to it." Cirdan bobbed his head with more respect than Kili might have expected. "My original thought stands, however. You did well."

The young mixed-blood dwarrow sighed and shook his head. "I don't know what I did." He admitted reluctantly.

"You freed your uncle the king as well as the others from sure death." Galadriel pointed out with a soft smile and a look of appreciation that had Kili catching his breath.

"It would have been more impressive if I'd done it on purpose."

Cirdan shook his head very slightly, his long silver hair catching the light. "Regardless, whether it was instinct, training, or sheer luck …it was well done and it was done by you and no other."

"Kuilaith? Do you recall when I came to you, after the incident with the Earth Mover spawn?" The Lady asked almost too casually.

Kili grimaced. "Only too well." He looked over at Cirdan. "She didn't even wait for me to get dressed."

Ignoring the mild complaint, Galadriel nodded and continued. "I stepped into your mind, in order to protect and heal you."

Kili stopped, appalled at a new thought. "You have to do it again? But I don't have the same raging headache as I did then." He winced. "Have I been sending out my every thought again?"

"No, child of my daughter's child. Oh no." The Lady reached for his hand and he let her, watching as her long elegant fingers wrapped around his much thicker digits. "This is not the same. What I ask is, what do you recall of my memories?"

Kili stared down at their entwined hands. Her skin was so soft and almost glowing, and his was rough and work calloused. Whatever glow he'd achieved before, it was gone now. "Stars singing."

Cirdan made an approving noise, but Kili did not look up. "I …there were words in the sounds, and I knew them. But I can remember none of that now. It slipped through my mind quicker than food through a goose."

Gentle laughter had him looking up into the Lady's kind gaze. He flushed, realizing how crass his words might have been taken. "I don't mean …"

"You are fine, Kuilaith." Galadriel reassured him. "Starsong. What else?"

"Cold. Bitter, bitter cold."

"Yes, that was the Helcaraxe crossing at the beginning of the First Age. There was one more thing that you saw. Do you not remember?" She jostled his memory slightly.

Kili nodded, licking his lips. "Trees. Two of them. Glowing." His face clouded a moment before he shrugged. "I saw more of them this time, they were the same trees weren't they?" He waited until he saw her dip her head in assent. "One was glowing gold and the other shining silver. They gave off this great warmth."

"Which one called your name?" Cirdan asked lightly.

Kili stopped breathing for a moment, his eyes sliding over to the bearded elf in wonder. "I do not recall that. That didn't happen."

Galadriel too turned to stare at the Shipwright, her own eyes alit with wonder. "Cirdan?"

"Gold or Silver. Which calls to you child of Durin, child of Finwe?"

Kili shook his head, more nervous to answer this question than any other in his life, and he had no clue as to why. He licked his lips. "Finwe?" He asked this instead.

Cirdan's eyes held him without strain, without duress. "Durin was of the first born of the Dwarves. Finwe was of the first born of the Elves. They had no parentage other than their creations by Iluvatar and Aule."

"I had parents. Have." Kili rushed to correct the tense of his words. He barely kept himself from looking behind him at the still comatose Elladan. "I have parents."

"Cirdan?" Galadriel called softly to her friend and mentor.

"Which calls to you? Shall I guess, Tilion's Heir?"

Galadriel's soft gasp of indrawn air had Kili shaking his head at both of them. "Stop."

"The Ainur of Arda have the Valar, and the Maiar. Some you have met. Olorin you know as Gandalf, while Radagast is also Aiwendil. Saruman was once called Curumo. Along with them were Arien, and Tilion."

Galadriel shook her head, looking puzzled. Her confusion terrified Kili like nothing else. His hand tightened on hers, and she allowed contact.

"Tilion is a Maia, and he is the guardian of the Moon." Cirdan spoke in a mesmerizing manner and Kili couldn't have looked away from him at that moment if he'd tried. "When the two Trees of Valinor, which you saw, were destroyed, it was Tilion who took the last bloom in a vessel and carried it away. That was the Moon. The other tree had a final fruit, it was taken by Arien and became the Sun."

Kili's throat and mouth were dryer than a desert under three suns. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Nothing." Galadriel said firmly. "He tapped into the power of the Two Trees, which he has never seen in person. Drawing upon my power instead. For we were connected for a brief time. That is all."

"Is it?" Cirdan stood, nodding as he considered this answer. "I believe you."

Kili's breathing evened out in relief, until the elf continued.

"Sauron won't."

"What do you mean?" The brunet demanded anxiously.

Cirdan sighed sadly, taking a deep breath as if about to give grave news. "Saruman was struck by you, using the power of the Two Trees. He will not mistake this for using the Eldar Light. He's seen the Trees, and knows them as well as any other."

Kili nodded, showing he was understanding the explanation so far. Though he dreaded to hear what would come next.

"Saruman will report to Sauron. The Dark One will either dismiss the information, or mull it over in his mind. He knows Kuilaith is the scion of many of the most honored and powerful lines in Middle Earth. He will worry. Not because of what is reality, but what could be. Someone to stand against him. You, child of Durin and Finwe, are a central connection. Tying two, if not three, of the great races together. You are a symbol of that alliance. He will worry not so much about any power you yourself might hold, but your power in drawing together many forces against him."

Kili felt like crying, but did nothing. Listening as he realized that he was now a target of the most powerful, and evil, despot in Middle Earth. "He won't let me be, will he?"

"Not necessarily." Galadriel tried to soothe the situation, petting his hand softly.

"What will Sauron see? A child able to touch the power of the Trees. Shall I tell you of Tilion? He carried the last surviving flower of the Silver Tree known as Telperion in a vessel. That vessel was crafted and forged by Aule. Yes. The maker of the Dwarves. Tilion is a lover of silver, and that is a metal. Again, a connection to the Dwarves. Oh, and he was a hunter, using a silver bow. Did you not tell me that this son of your daughter's son was excellent with a bow?"

"It's not made of silver!" Protested Kili stridently.

"That will not matter, not to Sauron. He relies heavily upon the signs. And the name Tilion's Heir has begun to crop up of late, to those that know where to look. I have no doubts of Sauron's ability to read the signs." Cirdan gave a sympathetic look toward the young prince. "I just did not think to find the answer to that riddle here."

Kili turned to Galadriel, seeking reassurance. She was looking away, her eyes gone all spooky. She did not look happy. Kili winced heavily.

The Lady of Light sighed. "Tilion is thought to be reckless, but stalwart. And he is said to love the sun, chases her continually. Kuilaith is in love, though unlike the sun, Tauriel returns his love." She shook her head. "It is not exact, but there are enough similarities that it would snag Sauron's attention."

"Tilion's Heir." Cirdan said quietly, but firmly.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You look pale." Tauriel said, concern in her voice.

Kili looked up at her, unwilling to speak aloud his thoughts. Not even with her. "I'm fine. I …Elladan stirs."

"That is grand news!" The she-elf smiled brightly, though her sharp-eyed gaze caught his worry. "Something is wrong."

"Nuluin thinks that it will be a slow recovery. My father was sore wounded, not in body but in spirit. It will take much time and effort for him to return fully." Kili told her the truth, though it was only part of what was weighing on his mind. "He's not awake yet."

The red-head nodded, feeling the gulf between them simply because, it wasn't normally there. "You do not have to share."

Kili looked up at her, catching her green eyes as they watched him. Love shone there. He breathed freely for the first time in hours. "You are my light." He said fervently.

Tauriel smiled at him. "Hopefully Fili will be free soon." She glanced at over where the diggers where trying to break through, sensing that the moment was close at hand.

Fili. The younger brother nodded, smiling and saying all the right things. Yet inwardly, he was railing against fate.

Tilion's Heir. What a load of dragon shit. He was nothing. Well, not nothing. Kili smirked. He was a prince of more than one line and beloved of many. But what he wasn't was a threat to Sauron. Not alone.

So. He was a target. And Erebor was basically in ruins. The mountain still stood, of course. Barely. Rivendell, Lothlorien, Dale, the Mirkwood … and Erebor. None could withstand Sauron, not directly and not alone.

Kili looked around him, hearing the cheers as someone was brought up out of the depths. He stared eagerly, grunting with pleasure to realize it was Bofur. Good. That was good. How many had survived?

How many would survive this winter? Lean, despite the supplies of Cirdan's people. How many would survive another such attack from Mordor? Erebor needed time, time to rebuild and to set up true defenses. Time Sauron would not give them, he could feel it.

That wouldn't happen. Not with him here. Not with Sauron looking toward him.

More cheers. Kili looked up, grinning with desperate relief as he saw Fili clear the dug pit. Thorin was there to grab him. The brunet watched as Fili even opened his arms toward their mam. He sniffed, pleased. It didn't mean that his brother had forgiven, nor forgotten. But it was a step in the right direction at least.

"Kili?" Tauriel's voice prodded him out of himself. She was staring at him, realizing something must be really wrong if he hadn't launched himself at Fili yet.

"Yes." Kili said as he moved swiftly over toward his brother, a smile building over his heartache, as he pushed through the crowd to catch Fili's eye while the blond whispered something to the dwarrowdam sitting beside him.

"KILI!"

That voice, that person, that pull …Kili was in his brother's embrace without taking another step. They hugged tightly, ignoring the cheers around them.

Fili pulled back, lips chapped and his eyes feverish, but grinning widely as he stared into Kili's dark eyed gaze. Triumph written large on his face.

Kili's heart near broke in two. How could he tell Fili that he was going to have to leave him? For his own good. For all of them.

Kili was going to have to leave Erebor.


	58. In which Dwalin faces a challenger

"Slow down there, lad!" Oin chuffed irritably, although smiling as he watched the freshly rescued Fili draining his second mug of cold mountain water. "You'll do yourself more harm."

The atmosphere surrounding the large area was light-hearted, a huge lift in morale throughout the mountain. Yes, there was still rubble and destruction all around them, hundreds were injured and searches continued for the missing. Tension still rode through the mountain as work continued at great speed.

Yet. The rescue of Fili and Bofur was as if a signal ran like a flash fire through everyone. Erebor still had a future. They still had a future.

Sorrow still rocked the dwarves to the bones, but there was a sense of genuine relief. And that feeling was centered on the solid form of Fili, head thrown back, his throat undulating as he swallowed as much water as he could while what remained splashed his face.

Lord Elrond could feel the change from despair to something more manageable as if the emotions were tangible. He too could not help but smile as he watched Prince Fili shove his empty mug into his brother's hands while Kili laughed and gave him a full one in return. "You should not drink too quickly." He warned, though not too harshly, adding his cautionary remark to that of the dwarven healer.

Fili's free hand gestured largely for a forth mug even before finishing the third. Neither Elrond nor Oin had a chance to protest before the new mug of cold water was given to the still feverish blond.

Lord Elrond opened his mouth to explain to anyone who would listen why Fili needed to slow down. Only, the prince didn't gulp down the contents of the fourth mug, he simply dumped it over his head and face in an obvious effort to cool himself down.

The elven leader started to nod when suddenly Fili gave a great shake of his head, letting his hair and blond braids fly out as he shook himself off. Letting the water spray everywhere.

A huge cheer went up from the surrounding dwarves while Kili gave a battle cry of delight, unmindful of the cast off.

Elrond blinked, shut his mouth, and then reached up to wipe some moisture off of one cheek.

"You missed a spot."

Arwen's smile only grew as her father turned disbelieving eyes upon his only daughter. She laughed and reached up to run her thumb under one of his eyes, wiping away more of the moisture which had flown his way. "Smile. This is worth celebrating."

A small huff of a sound escaped him, though his lips remained shut. Still, he wasn't heartless. Finding Fili alive and well was definitely something to be happy about. "Has Elrohir been informed?"

"Runners went up with the news as soon as that golden head cleared the opening of the hole they dug." Arwen nodded. "Those runners came back down again too."

Something in her voice captured the elven father's attention. His eyes focused more intently upon her. There was more she was wanting to say, that was plain.

"Elladan stirs, though he is not fully awake or aware. Elrohir says our brother opens his eyes to his voice now, but does not respond coherently."

Lord Elrond's watchful eyes measured his daughter's careful expression even as he parsed her words for meaning. "That is good news, he climbs up out of the eternal sleep." He looked pointedly at his youngest child. "But that is not what you want to ask me about." He guessed from several millennia of being a father.

Arwen nodded and didn't make him wait any further. "The Lady is ensconced with the Shipwright. The runners said they yelled the information through the door but got no response." She said the sentences, but there was an underlying question in her voice.

Elrond froze, his mind racing.

Arwen frowned lightly at her sire's blank expression. "What now, father? Is there more? Can this place hold up against more?" The she-elf asked.

Without answering directly, the elven leader looked up and around the area, but could only discern celebrating dwarves. Even as they continued their work, they were still celebrating the rescue of their Crown Prince. He watched as groups formed almost magically while moving off to their work details. "Please, will you check on Elladan and Elrohir for me?"

Arwen stared at her father, letting him know she knew an evasive tactic when she heard one. "Of course." Her voice sounded tart, but she did move away.

Elrond tilted his head slightly, letting his gaze wander over the grouping before him. His still demeanor at war with his racing thoughts.

From next to Kuilaith, Tauriel happened to glance up. She was laughing along with her betrothed, her long-fingered hand on his shoulder. The she-elf caught Lord Elrond's look and started to look down. The lass caught herself and her chin firmed as her eyes rose once more. Elrond approved and nodded at her even as he turned his attention elsewhere.

King Thorin was standing next to his heir, grinning from ear to ear. As if sensing the regard of the elf, the dwarrow monarch looked up. Sapphire eyes caught the contained gaze of the elf, and held. The two leaders stared at one another while Thorin's smile gradually decreased in amplitude. Elrond could feel the suspicions of the dwarrow ruler grow even as he said something to Fili that had the blond laughing aloud.

Elrond watched as Thorin shoved Fili's shoulder hard enough to make him spill yet another mug of cool water, drawing a protest from the blond that had all the dwarrow laughing uproariously. A few gestures and words from the king had the group backing off a bit and sending the Crown Prince off with Oin.

Not just with Oin. Elrond was amused to see that Fili wasn't letting go of the dwarrowdam he'd been courting recently. The elf lord could detect the dam's slight blush, but also her mutual reluctance to let go of the prince's hand.

With interest, the elf stood back and observed, learning as he watched. It had been several thousand years since he'd had much traffic with dwarves, and never on this scale. Seeing them in their home was different than on a battlefield. Elrond was interested as he caught the Lady Dis capture Fili's attention and start issuing orders to those around her.

"All is forgiven then?" Elrond asked as he sensed King Thorin's arrival at his side, though he did not bother to look away from the scene being played out before him.

A grunt, then a rough shake of the royal head, sans crown. "Doubtful. A thaw, perhaps."

"Progress." Elrond said, his tone cautious and even. "In winter, thawing leads to spring, and new beginnings."

Another grunt, followed by a huge sigh. "Must you turn all into poetry elf? And we're not in your sweet Rivendell. Here in the mountains a thaw can be a false front, with strong blizzards following on the heels."

Message received. Elrond watched as Dis led her two children out of the area with the healer. "Fili still has a hand on the dwarrowdam he's courting."

This time the grunt coming from Thorin sounded a bit amused. "Yes, he does."

"The Lady of Light and The Shipwright are meeting privately."

Thorin turned and looked up at the elf beside him. "Meaning?"

Elrond shook his head lightly. "I do not know. Perhaps nothing."

"Everything has meaning, today at least." Grumped an irate monarch. "Kili's strange and foul mood as well."

Startled, all that anyone watching could see was one infinitesimal lifting of a single eyebrow as the elf lord turned his attention to the departing dwarrow. "Strange and foul? I saw no evidence of such. "

Thorin reached back, rubbing the aching muscles where his neck met his shoulders. He as weary beyond telling. "No. Since he came back from looking in on his …on your son."

Elrond frowned as he recalled his memories of the time in question. He shook his head. "He was smiling. Though it could be you sense his worry over his father." The elf lord had no trouble saying aloud the paternity word, in fact, he stressed it lightly.

Thorin paused silently for a moment, but let the word pass. He'd more or less come to terms with whom had sired his sister-son. Admitting it aloud was still trying at times. Strange, he could say it to his sister and those closest to him. But calling Elladan Kili's father to the elves seemed a bit like defeat. "My stubborn pride will be my end."

"Is that not true of all Dwarves?" Came the quip from the elf, deliberately phrased in a light-hearted and jovial manner.

Thorin ignored the invitation to smile and laugh it off. "Most of us." He admitted. "So I bend my stubborn pride and tell you that Kili was not acting aright. I don't like not knowing what the ancient duo are speaking about privately. And I still feel like there are more stones to fall."

Elrond's eyes flicked up involuntarily, though he was pretty sure the dwarven king was speaking metaphorically rather than literally. He hoped.

"That was a metaphor." Thorin said stingingly, having caught the flicker of concern. "The mountain is solid once more."

Caught out, Elrond nodded. "I am unused to underground kingdoms." He did not dwell on his small slip in his cool reserve. "Kuilaith?" He asked, wanting to return to more important subjects. "He was acting off? I do not know him as well as you."

King Thorin paused, letting the words sink in. He could not feel any weight of accusation in the elf's actual vocal tone, yet, it was there. Subtlety seemed to be a strength of the elven race. Dwarves were far more blunt. "Yes. I've known him longer and better." He admitted in a gruff voice, one that gave no illusion of an apology. What had been could not be changed. "He's acting off, hiding something. He doesn't do it nearly as well as you elves do."

Elrond's mouth twitched, hearing the complaint hidden in the king's words. "I met with dwarrow for centuries before I ever knew that they had emotions." He countered. "Do you all practice that stone faced dourness in mirrors?"

King Thorin laughed abruptly, breaking the moment as he grinned and shook his head, conceding the point. "I will corner Kili and you will seek out answers from your fellow elves?"

"Nay." Elrond rejected the suggestion without forethought. Once the word slipped from his unguarded tongue, he realized the truth of it. "No. You have every right as King Under the Mountain to address Cirdan and the Lady. The charge of this kingdom is on your shoulders, not mine."

Thorin frowned out of thoughtfulness, not rejection. It took a moment, but he nodded. "Leaving you to speak with Kili on his worries?"

"This bothers you?"

"Nay." King Thorin commented, drawing out the word slowly. "At least in no way other than the petty." He admitted ruefully.

"He will not come to love the other half of his ancestry, not so soon." Elrond spoke gently. "He has no desire to come with us, or even leave Erebor."

Thorin nodded at the absolute truth of that statement.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"What's wrong?" Fili hissed, gripping his brother's leather sleeve. His eyes seemed to glow with intensity, perhaps a side effect of his dehydration and fever.

Kili flicked a quick glance over to where Dis was conversing with Oin while Erelinde and Tauriel were trying to clear a space for the large tub being carted in by dwarrow. If it pleased him to see the two females working in quiet concert with each other, he gave no outward sign.

"Ki ….li …." The blond called to him again. Cajoling, but with a hint of irritation from being put off.

Kili glanced at his brother, guilt biting him deep. His brother was parched, dirty, exhausted, in pain, and had just escaped death by too narrow a margin. He wanted to share, but he didn't want to put this burden onto Fili. Not now. His gaze softened slightly. "Besides Saruman and Mordor trying to crush us all?" Kili asked, having given the bare outline of recent events to his brother already.

Fili gave him a sour look that clearly showed he was waiting for an answer. A real one.

"Ahriline waits in the Halls." The brunet said quietly, deliberately being misleading while still telling the truth. "Not a victim of the mountain, but of the White Wizard as he escaped."

Stunned shock filled the blond's face. "Saruman himself?" It went against everything dwarrow to kill a female off of the battlefield. Dwarrowdams fought, not all of them, but more than enough. The Dwarves respected that, even as they knew that while some Elvish females also fought, very few of the Humans did. It went against all custom for a Dwarf to strike down a female unless she was a warrior. Ahriline had not been a battlemaid. She'd been a kind and generous soul, and one that had helped raise the brothers.

"His name is now a curse, upon us and the whole of Arda." Kili spoke harshly, his words a promise of retribution for the painful loss.

Fili gaped, slack jawed for a moment before he blinked hard, squeezing his eyes shut, though he still felt as if his eyes were deserts. There was no moisture to spare for tears, even if he were so inclined. "We will sing for her and all others, and him we will hunt." He vowed fervently. "Anyone else?"

"We thought you." Kili's voice sounded young and raw. "Hours. Days. We didn't know where you were, or if we would be in time."

Fili drew his brother closer, responding to the despair in Kili's voice. He rested his forehead on that of the brunet, offering what comfort he could. "I am here." He said with stoic resolve, another promise. "I am here for you."

But I have to leave. Kili gulped, keeping the words to himself even as he blinked back tears. Maybe. He had to think. He just wanted to sit and think everything through. Not be reckless like he was counted by his elders. "You're still over hot." Kili complained, finding something else to focus on. He put on a false face and a smile while his heart was breaking. He reached up and pushed his brother's filthy hair from his face as he leaned back. "Fever."

Fili nodded, his blue eyed gaze boring into his brother's though Kili was looking everywhere but at him.

Kili nodded and started to step away, though he was brought up short as his brother yanked on his arm once again. "You need the healer." He protested, as if speaking to an injured animal, and a not very intelligent one.

"I need an answer." Fili snapped back, his voice sounding unusually harsh after his ordeal. Raspy despite all the water he'd downed already. "What is wrong?"

"Everything! Elladan is injured badly. He might not wake again. The mountain is in pieces. People are Waiting. Everything is wrong!" The words were torn from him as Kili refused to meet his brother's gaze. "He stepped in front of a death blow. For me."

Fili frowned, hearing the truth, but still sensing that there was something further wrong. "He loves you, he's told you that."

Dis approached her sons, frowning darkly. "Oin refuses to let you sit in a tub and soak like you want." She sounded frustrated.

Fili glanced around quickly, his matted hair flying as he saw the dwarves carrying out the tub in question. "I need that!"

Dis bit her lip and shook her head at her eldest. "Oin says you have a previous injury not yet fully healed?"

Fili groaned heartily, arched his back and extended his neck sharply until he was yelling at the ceiling in protest of the inevitable. "Damn it!"

"You can bathe off in here." Erelinde said sympathetically, worry clear in her words as she reached out for him. He didn't make her reach far, as his hand went up to take hers. "I'm afraid your room was rather damaged."

"You just can't soak." Tauriel too sounded like she sympathized. "But if the water doesn't come up to his chest, could he not at least sit in the tub?"

Fili nodded at the healer, while Oin seemed to be thinking it over. Finally the gray-bearded dwarf gave a quick jerk of his head in the affirmative and headed off to get the tub back.

"Thank you." Fili grinned sappily at his brother's betrothed. His gaze took in her bandaged hands and bruised face with the stitches. "You are well?"

Dis nodded, but did not speak to the elf. Though she wasn't rude at least. "It is a good idea." Her eyes were on her son though.

"I am well enough, better than many here. Too many." Tauriel had already moved off to the hearth, trying to look up the chimney with her one good eye. "I can't tell if this is damaged. But you will need a fire in here."

Dis, focusing on the practical moved quickly to inspect the hearth as well. "The water can be heated and brought in, but it would be better to have it in here."

"And though he's over hot now, as he cools he shouldn't cool down too quickly or too far." Tauriel added.

Dis agreed as the two worked to make everything ready.

Fili grinned at the sight and turned to share the amusement of the moment with his brother. But Kili was lost in thought and staring at nothing, scowling. Fili lost his own smile. "Brother?"

The word was soft and concerned. Kili did not hear, or pretended not to hear. "I have to check on my father."

Fili started forward, stopping only when Kili looked over at him. A genuine smile graced the young brunet as he looked at Fili holding hands with Erelinde. "Her hair needs braiding, and decoration." Alluding to courting beads.

Erelinde blushed slightly, though she was smiling as she dipped her head in Kili's direction.

Fili started to ask about his brother's strange mood when it registered that Erelinde had not rejected Kili's comment out of hand. His gaze flew back and forth between the two, at a loss of which to address first.

"I'll be back." Kili promised, heading toward the door.

Fili, torn to the core of his being, made a protesting noise. Though he was reluctant to give chase.

"Go." Erelinde let his hand go free, pushing on his shoulder slightly. "Go." She said with a smile to show her feelings were not hurt.

Fili flashed her a grateful look and hurried after his sibling.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

King Thorin walked into the room without knocking and without announcing himself.

He caught the image of Galadriel's profile as she stared at a blank stone wall. One of the few without damage, he noted.

Cirdan was seated, his fingers steepled as he too seemed lost to contemplation. Slowly he blinked and turned his eyes, though not his head, toward Thorin. A few moments later he dropped his hands elegantly to the arm rests of his chair and turned his full attention to the dwarven monarch. "Is aught the matter?"

"I came to ask that of the two of you. Being in here locked up together is unsettling. You have thoughts to share?" It was a pointed question, and a rebuke for being left out of any such conversation. He was the king here.

Cirdan took a moment to digest the words, then nodded, but said nothing further.

"This wall has no mortar, no place the stone is joined together, as if it were carved." Galadriel's voice sounded spooky, though her words were mundane enough.

Thorin eyed the female, thinking of her as the Witch of the Woods with all his might, as if trying to project the words to her without speaking.

"Such would have taken years." She continued, giving no sign that she was hearing his thoughts.

Thorin sighed, letting the moment pass as he nodded. "Yes."

"Hard labor and patience." The Lady added leadingly.

"Yes, yes. All of that." Thorin sighed unhappily. "Is this your round-about way of telling me to be patient and you will explain in your own damned time? Because I'm not all that patient when my kingdom is under attack and I lose family and friends and even those I would struggle to put a name to."

Galadriel turned, facing him, the long folds of her gown tightening on her figure as she watched him. He doubted she had any idea of the picture she made. "I only mean that I have to learn patience."

Thorin blinked rapidly, taken aback by her response. "You, Lady?"

"She." Cirdan nodded. "She cannot go riding off to hunt the Wizard without thought, nor can she face off against Mordor alone. Much as she would want."

"Oh." Thorin coughed and rolled his shoulders in an effort not to laugh. "Sounds quite Dwarven of you, Lady."

"Does it?" Galadriel mused on the thought. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I love too deeply. Perhaps I would have no more of this pain. Perhaps I miss the illusion of safety. Mordor came too close."

"Is this your test?" Thorin asked, feeling lost. Galadriel. He didn't know her well, but she seemed so wise and knowing that seeing her unsure was highly unsettling to him.

Cirdan's eyes turned to the king with interest, though he said nothing.

Galadriel took a long time to answer, but finally she shook her head. "No."

"What did you see in your study?" The Shipwright asked of the king, his voice even and unjudging. "Describe it all."

Thorin frowned sharply. "I've told you what happened."

"Yes, a recitation of events. Now describe it." Cirdan encouraged. "Not just what happened, but what you sensed. Seeing, smelling, hearing. How it made you feel."

The king grunted unhappily, though he could perhaps understand that this was important somehow. Maybe something he said would give them an edge over Saruman. Or Sauron. "Cold. When I realized that I could not move I felt chilled to the bone. It was worse when I saw that neither Elrond nor his son could move either."

Galadriel nodded as she listened.

"Do you want me to tell you how damned angry and afraid I felt? Not only for what was being done to me, but why? What it meant for my people, my mountain? What I thought might happen to Kili? I could taste the sorrow of his death on my tongue, so close did the lad come!"

Thorin stalked further into the room, no longer seeing the two elves, but focused on his memories. "Do you want me to tell you how relieved I felt when Elladan took the blow meant for my sister-son? How I wasn't sure he was alive, and it didn't matter to me? Does that make me evil in your eyes? I was just glad that Kili still lived, it did not bother me that someone else was dead or seriously injured."

"Natural." Cirdan said, his voice calm.

Thorin spun on the strange new elf with the even stranger beard. He glared, but the elf did not look away or seem to judge his feelings. He ground his teeth together in frustration and threw up his hands. "What more do you want of me?"

"Kuilaith."

It was a multiple purpose response. Possibly meaning they wanted the lad himself, or maybe just his thoughts on what had happened with the lad.

"Please. Start over. What brought about Saruman's revelation of allegiance? How did he seem? What else did you notice?"

Thorin turned to the elf known as The Shipwright, glaring. "Would you treat Elrond this way?"

"Yes, and we shall." Cirdan sounded soothing, as if he knew how on edge the king really felt. "We need to know, and you need to speak it. Rid yourself of the hatred and fear and perhaps call to mind some small thing that could turn the tide."

Thorin sighed, but basically he knew they were right. It didn't make him like them more. Still. He glanced over at Galadriel. She looked saddened, resigned. He remembered her struggle to help hold up his mountain. He owed her.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili frowned. His brother was nowhere in sight. He could go up to the healing halls. Kili had said he was going to visit Elladan.

"Something weighs on him."

Fili nodded sharply, recognizing Tauriel's voice easily though he'd not heard her come up behind him. "You felt it too." He felt like he should be surprised, yet somehow he wasn't. The she-elf seemed almost a part of Kili these days.

"He was fine earlier. Worried about you, worried about all that is going on." Tauriel gestured around them at the general bustle of work and debris. "But this is different."

"Elladan?" Fili asked softly.

Tauriel nodded. "So I think. From what has been told to me, his father stepped in front of a mortal blow for Kili. He is sore injured." She looked behind them at the small room they were currently using. "I can forestall your mother while you go to him."

Fili gave her a measuring look, grimacing as he shook his head. "Kili won't share until he's ready. For all his open nature, there is a core in him that is intensely private."

Tauriel nodded, having sensed some of that for herself.

"He will open up, when he's ready." Fili paused and then gave a half grin. "Or he will chew on something for so long that someone has to lance the hurt and let it spill out."

They both heard Dis calling for Fili from inside the room. "If you're going to go, it should be now." Tauriel offered again.

"You." The blond prince came to a decision, turning to face the she-elf though he had to look way up to do so. He grinned. "He didn't look ready to share with me, perhaps he will with you. If not, we'll sic Thorin on him."

Tauriel blinked, surprise in her green eyed gaze. She seemed to sense how much trust Fili was placing in her, sending her after Kili. "If he doesn't want me to tell you, I won't do so."

Fili's grin widened. "As it should be. But I'll wheedle it out of one of you." He paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Him, most likely."

The red-head started toward the healing halls, when Fili called out to her. She stopped, turning.

"I got a short debriefing from Balin on the way over here. I owe you." He said with utter seriousness.

"Sealyn." Tauriel deflected the honor. "Arwen and Nori as well."

Fili nodded, knowing she was right, and yet not. "I will thank them as well." He bowed toward her very formally just as Dis came out to see what was keeping him. Without any hesitation the blond smiled at Tauriel. "And if you would, bring me news on Bofur's condition?"

The she-elf nodded even as she answered. "He was coming around even as they carried him off to the halls of healing. But I will check further."

"Thank you, sister-to-be." Fili said, pitching his voice louder than was necessary. Letting all within hearing distance know just how the tall red-head stood in his eyes.

Dis frowned, obviously wondering if the pointed gesture was meant for her. Probably so. She decided not to argue. Not here, not now. Tauriel was a conundrum for another day. "The fire is built and the water is coming to be heated."

Fili groused, not wanting the water too hot. He'd been overheated for too long now. Still he was pragmatic enough to know that frigid mountain water would be equally bad for his system right now. He turned to face his mother.

Fili's sapphire eyes traced the lines of her face, seeing the worry there stilled his tongue from forcing her to offer the retreating she-elf her own thanks. His white-hot rage of days past seemed tempered now, banked down low in light of all that had transpired. He didn't like the fatigue and emotional pain he could read in her face or body. "Mam."

Dis looked up into his face, hope in her eyes. "Yes?" She asked, knowing just by him calling her that he was willing to speak with her again. Claim her as kin. It was a clear acknowledgement.

Fili hesitated. Not wanting harsh words now, though he still had much to say, much to discuss. He leaned in and put his lips on her forehead. "Later. I'll be angry later. Right now I am glad to see your face."

"It is your brother's place to be angry or not." Dis responded quietly, though with firmness. She needed that clear.

"And what place do I have?" He couldn't have stopped his answer if he'd tried. "Mam. You let me deny my own father rather than bend your pride to explain to anyone why Kili couldn't claim his own."

Dis' nostril's flared as she stared up at him. "I only sought to protect him, you."

"You thought nothing of us." He retorted. "Only your pride mattered. Telling us, or Thorin, would not have brought our Elvish relatives down around our ears."

"You don't know!" Dis hissed.

"Because you never shared." He told her bitingly. Then he sighed and shook himself, as if trying to release his anger and tension. "This is not the time or place. Later. Leave me in peace for now." He walked past her and back toward the small room with a nice fire, and Erelinde.

"I loved Nehili. I love my sons and my family. Everything I did was from that."

Fili stilled for a moment, not turning but casting a look back over one shoulder at her. "What you call love, I call selfish." He said with bitter coldness, leaving her alone as he walked into the room.

Firelight filled the room and he was glad the venting system seemed to be in working order at least. The room wasn't brightly lit, two small lanterns and the hearth fire which was still in the process of catching.

In the dim light he could see the outline of Erelinde's form through the cotton of her dress. He watched her profile for a moment, the light playing upon her soft skin and lending a look of fragility to her frame.

Fili held still, watching her with sudden longing like he'd never experienced before. His anger at his mother dissolving as he breathed deeply. His eyes moved over her body as she bent over the fire, prodding it to move the wood into a better position.

White-blond hair trailed down her back, her braids tangled and some looked like they might be coming loose. Fili's fingers tingled with the desire to touch, to grab hold, to pull her into his arms. His feet made sure he stayed where he was though, knowing he didn't want to send the poor dam running from him.

Erelinde straightened, testing the metal rods meant to hold kettles and the like. They swung easily enough. She seemed satisfied and turned as if to glance behind her.

Sweet sky-blue eyes met the need in his gaze and she stilled, her glance becoming a look, and then they were staring at each other.

"I couldn't get you out of my mind." He told her, his throat dry, and not from his recent captivity. "I just wanted to see you again."

"They told me you Waited." She whispered. "Kili never believed the news though."

She had. He could see the guilt in her eyes and he moaned, shaking his head. He knew, having listened to her stories about her mother and younger brother, what she must have gone through. "I'm sorry."

Erelinde's own eyes widened at his words. "You have nothing to be sorry for!" She asserted, stepping toward him.

The predator within him nearly hummed with satisfaction as she moved nearer. The more civilized parts of him shook his head at her. "Don't."

She hesitated, hurt in her expression.

"If you come nearer I will hold you, and I won't be letting go." He warned, only half in jest. Or less. "Uncle once warned me that I shouldn't pester you so much that you had no route to escape. That courting was your choice." He smiled, and there was something sharp and needy in his look that had her catching her breath. He liked that. "You might need to walk away from me right now."

She heard his warning, he knew she had. Yet she didn't move. A moment later she smiled and shook her head. "Your uncle is right. But if you think I can't get away you're underestimating me. Right. Dwarrow will be here with water to heat for that tub. Oin will be back with whatever concoction he went to go make up for you. I doubt your mother will leave us alone for long."

Fili groaned, rolling his head around as he acknowledged her outlook on reality.

"You're not going to be allowed to immerse yourself as you'd like, so I need to come up with some way to wash your hair without getting your ….wound …." Her voice trailed off.

Oh. Right. Fili grimaced and apologized quickly. "Arrow pierced my lung." She made a noise of protest and shock. "It was before you arrived and we told no one, not with the Blacklock's in residence."

"They haven't been staying here for a while now." She lifted her brows in challenge.

Fili smiled sheepishly and gave a young lad's shrug of innocence. "I didn't want to be seen as weak, not by you at the very least."

Erelinde made an impatient wave of her hand at his chest and the soiled shirt he wore that clung to his skin. "Did they retrieve your leathers from down in that hole?"

The blond shrugged, reaching to pull the filthy shirt off over his head, leaving his chest bare. "Don't care."

"You might, it depends on how much of your things can be salvaged from your room." She frowned suddenly. "Was your fiddle in your chambers or my crafting room?"

Stilling, Fili shook his head grimly. "I don't remember."

"I'll look for it while they tend you." Erelinde promised even as she turned toward him. It amused him to see her pretty blue eyes look at everywhere around him except at his bared chest. Nudity was not the taboo of dwarves that it was considered in some other cultures. He could only surmise she wasn't as unaffected as she was trying to make him believe.

"If you look through my room and find a set of silver beads, feel free to take them for yourself." He teased deliberately.

She sighed at his jibe and shook her head, her gaze finally moved to his chest and she frowned at the filthy thing that had once been a medical dressing. "That needs to come off right now. How is it staying on? It's not wrapped."

"Some herbal adhesive that Nuluin used." Fili shrugged. "Oin was very impressed."

Erelinde moved toward him, her fingers going to the bandage as she picked at the corners with her nails. Fili smiled his hand immediately going to her hair. She slapped his hand away with a frown and poked at the bandage lightly. "I may need to soak that off."

"Can't soak." Fili whined. "Something about water pressure on my lung."

"Makes sense." Erelinde moved away from him as she dipped one of the sponges they'd brought into a bowl of water. She approached him again, hesitating slightly. "This will be cold."

"I'm fine, I pro ….Damn!" Fili sucked in a breath as the muscles of his chest tried to pull away from the ice cold water that had been drawn from a natural spring.

Erelinde gave him a cross look that called his maturity into question, and his bravery. Fili growled, but stood still, letting her press the icy thing to the edges of his dressing. "You're mean." He teased her, blowing the words into her ear.

"Best be knowing that now while my braids are still empty." The dwarrowdam teased right back. She looked up at him even while pressing the sponge against his superheated skin. "I ….Fili, I … I felt like I couldn't breathe, like the world had lost all light."

"Shhh …" His own breathing caught as he looked down into her face.

"I think …I think I might want those beads." She whispered, feeling as if they were the only two living souls in miles. And yet she wasn't close enough.

Possessive victory roared through the young prince and he leaned down, putting his lips next to her ear. He wanted to crow with pleasure, but ….what had Thorin said? What was right? He had her, but was it just a reaction to finding him alive when she'd thought him gone?

"Not today." Before she could react poorly he rushed to continue. "I want you to be yourself, not in fear of my life. I want the choice to be wholly yours and for you to be completely sure. Not in the heat of something like this."

"I won't be changing my mind." She looked up at him, shivering at the feelings he inspired within her.

Fili leaned forward, nudging away some of the curls framing her face with his nose as he almost touched cheeks with her. She leaned closer, as if unable to pull away.

"Ahem."

Fili nearly roared, as he turned to see Dwalin standing in the doorway, his arms crossed. Poor Erelinde jumped, banging his chin upwards with her head even as she stood her ground, however.

"I'm trying to soak loose this dressing." She explained to the warrior, even as Balin moved up beside his own brother.

Fili made an incoherent noise of pain as he shifted his jaw side to side, grateful he hadn't bitten his tongue.

Dwalin coolly watched the young pair and stalked over, grabbing the offending piece of bandage without warning and ripped it right off. "There."

Fili shouted and glowered at the warrior, who merely smirked. Right up until the sponge hit Dwalin straight between his eyes.

Everyone froze except for Erelinde. The sweet-natured crafter that was rumored not to have a temper chose that moment to prove everyone wrong. "How dare you!"

"Lass?" Balin called gently, more than a little surprised she'd thrown anything at his brother.

"He has been trapped for over a day, his skin is dehydrated and he's feverish. That is a serious wound with some serious healing behind it."

"Lass?" Dwalin backed up a step, not out of fear of her, but because he had no good response. He couldn't fight her physically, that would have brought not only Fili's wrath upon his bald head, but most likely every other dwarrow in the mountain. Not knowing what to do, he looked at Balin, who shrugged as if to say 'you brought this on yourself'.

"What if you'd done further damage? That was rude and thoughtless and possibly cruel. No. It was cruel and I don't care for you one bit!"

"Erelinde?" Fili called out to her, his eyes wide, having never witnessed her temper before.

"You need to cool off." Dwalin barked at her. He thought that would handle the lass, not being a battlemaid and all. Most people backed off when he spoke to them like that.

Icy cold water doused his face before he registered that she did not appear cowed. For good measure she threw the whole pot at his head as well. This, at least, he caught.

The duo stared at each other, one stunned and the other breathing hard. "I could break you in half." Dwalin reminded her.

"You'll have to, if you take another step toward him." Erelinde said, her eyes narrowed on the warrior. Her bottom lip trembled as she crossed her arms. Apparently she was now realizing that her target was a lot tougher than she was. Still, she didn't appear to be backing down.

Dwalin reached out and put his hands on her forearms, lifting her up as she squeaked and walking over toward the fire before putting her down. "Stay." He grumbled, pointing a finger at him.

She bared her teeth at him.

He gave her a confused look. "What do you think you'll do to me? Beat me with a feather?" He turned to look at Fili, running his eyes up and down the lad. "You look like you might live."

"I'm the feather she'll beat you with." Glowered Fili. "And the only weapon she'll ever need."

Dwalin sighed and shook his head.

"She could be your next Queen, brother." Balin teased, still standing near the doorway.

"Fine." Dwalin turned and eyed the slip of a dwarrowdam who was perhaps only half as wide as he was. "You need better threats."

"She has me." Fili reminded the bald warrior, stepping closer.

Dwalin's hand snaked out, capturing Fili by his hair at the back of his neck. He drew the lad closer and rested his forehead on the prince's. Breathing deeply he nodded. "You can take me to task." He rumbled.

Hearing the affection behind the words, Erelinde stilled, crossing abd crossing her arms as Balin approached her.

"It's his way." Balin sounded sheepish even as he threw a smile as Dwalin and Fili leaned on each other.

"I'm no threat, am I?" She gave a deep sigh of resignation.

Balin shook his head sadly, then shrugged. "You won't have to be. If you do decide to let him court you, it won't be your duty to protect him, at least not physically."

Erelinde nodded, though she was now blushing. She'd overreacted and she knew it.

"But there are more ways than one for someone to attack." Balin offered, sounding like a conspirator. "You will need to learn about those and how to protect yourself, and him."

Erelinde turned wide blue eyes on the white-haired counselor who smiled ingratiatingly at her, though he seemed genuine enough. "Come speak with me, I don't know when I'll have anything approaching spare time again. But you're important to Erebor."

Those sky-blue eyes widened further, to hear herself being deemed important. To the kingdom.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili heard her approach, even though there was nothing beyond the small scuff of a slippered foot. He reached out and touched the back of his father's hand lightly.

Tauriel knelt down next to his chair.

"He needs light."

She didn't mistake his meaning, though her eyes did move to the oil lanterns gracing the room. Tauriel nodded. "Perhaps one of the guest rooms with a balcony will be in decent repair. We could open the doors."

"More." Kili said softly.

Tauriel turned her head toward him, though he kept his profile to her, his eyes on Elladan. She waited, saying nothing.

"Mordor is awake."

She knew that, but let him work through what he wanted to say. Her patience never wore thin as she waited.

"Saruman made me a target. To tear apart any hope for an alliance. I am a danger to Erebor, until she is repaired."

Tauriel blinked, her green-eyed gaze steady as she knelt next to him.

"Now that we know, killing me won't be the alliance ender that they hoped for. But Saruman, and Sauron, are cruel and petty tyrants who thrive on pain and suffering. They won't let Erebor stand."

She blinked, her mind racing as she followed his thought processes.

"Unless I give them something to focus on instead. Me." Kili turned to her, his eyes full of betrayal and anger and pain. "I can't stay here. And I need to get my father somewhere he can heal. I have to protect Thorin and Fili and Mam. I can't stay in Erebor, not right now. I can come back later, but not until the mountain can hold."

Tauriel said nothing, just watched her beloved's face. Finally she gave a quick nod of her head. "When do we leave?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	59. In which certain plans are revealed

"Tomorrow will be soon enough to begin working." Thorin grumbled with exasperated pride, his hand on his sister-son's shoulder to give emphasis to his orders.

"Fine, tomorrow we start to work. But right now …" Fili, lips chapped and his eyes almost feverishly bright, shook his head in protest. "We have to meet! Everyone is here, and we have so much to plan, to discuss!"

"And everyone will still be here tonight, no one is leaving before then." Thorin promised, letting his eyebrows rise as he leaned forward. Blue eyes met blue eyes as the elder dwarrow asserted his command. "Sleep. You need to rest, for I doubt you did any of that while buried."

Fili did not confirm that thought, but tellingly he did not dispute it either. Which only served to confirm the king's suspicion. His hand tightened on the younger lad's shoulder. "I too haven't slept since this began, and unlike you sitting idly doing nothing I was fighting for the salvation of this mountain."

The words stung, even though Fili knew his uncle only teased him. He shook himself and looked away, finding his brother's sympathetic gaze upon him as well. That Kili wasn't fighting being sent off to bed was oddly telling as well. His brother had seemed distracted ever since the grand rescue of he and Bofur.

Sensing the distraction, Thorin pressed home his point. "I am your King and I say we do not meet while our brains are fuzzed with exhaustion and grief. We just sang for our fallen not but an hour ago. Give on old dwarrow some peace for one night."

"It's morning." Kili piped up, sensing the time of day despite being underground. A dwarrow trait.

Thorin frowned slightly. Yes, a dwarrow trait, but could it be also elvish as well? The idle thought disappeared as inconsequential as he blinked his eyes in order to refocus. "We will meet tonight." His last word had a bit of bite to it, and was directed at the grinning brunet behind him. "I will have you woken in four hours. No more. Take what rest you can, because there is much work to be done."

Fili licked his still dry lips and nodded, backing down with his pride intact and trying not to feel like a dwarfling being sent to bed in order to keep from being underfoot of his elders.

As if sensing the thought, Thorin's other hand rose and settled on Fili's opposite shoulder. The king leaned in further, placing his forehead a hair's breadth from that of his nephew. "I need you clear headed. I need you to lead. I have never needed you and your brother more than I will right now. If Erebor is to have a future, I will need you both as never before. Your time as princes has arrived. This will be your moment, and your legacy. What we do on the morrow will be remembered in song and in history, forever. Rebuild, fight, give up. What we do will be judged by all, written about. But. Not until you get some rest."

"Four hours?" Fili grinned, nodding ruefully as he recognized the wisdom of his uncle's words. "And you will rest too?"

"Of course." Thorin grinned back, letting Fili go as he turned toward the door. His eyes swept past Kili and then sharpened, returning to his younger nephew's face. There had been a sorrowed and pained look to the lad's countenance. But when he glanced back, it was gone, as if never there. "Kili?"

The young brunet smiled and shrugged. "Four hours." He nodded, turning quickly to help Fili set up the bed in the mostly undamaged room that had been assigned to the two of them. He then nodded over at Lord Elrond, who had arrived silently at the open doorway and was watching them all.

Thorin wanted to question Kili and his odd mood of the past several hours, ever since his brother's rescue. But more critical matters called. He raised a questioning eyebrow at the tall elf.

"Cirdan's supplies have arrived and been secured, while the dwarrow were ….occupied." Seeing Thorin's sharp frown, Elrond shook his head. "I mean nothing disparaging, I only don't know the words for the ceremony you held."

Thorin's ill temper smoothed and he rolled his shoulders. "I too need to rest before this meeting, or I will have no patience or wisdom left to deal with those on our side. Much less on how to deal with Mordor."

"The ceremony has a name, but it's in Khuz-dul." Kili offered his father's father with an almost apologetic look. "Meant to sing those we have lost into the Halls of the Waiting. To show them we honor them."

"Bed. Sleep. Rest." Thorin pointed at one sister-son and then the other, leaving them alone as he exited the room with Lord Elrond. "I need you as fresh as four hours of sleep can get you."

Kili laughed and Fili grumbled even as Thorin shut the door and gestured for a nearby dwarrow. "Do not leave this door unattended, and do not tell the princes they are being so guarded." He made a face designed to show his frustration with the pride of young dwarves.

Elrond smiled at the fondness in the king's voice.

"And do not waken them before six hours, not on anyone's say-so but mine alone." Thorin looked up at the taller elf, catching an odd expression chasing over his fine features. "You disapprove?"

"Of allowing them to sleep longer than you told them? No." Elrond smiled slightly. "Merely remembering a time or two that I had to do similar with my own children."

"They would not have accepted a longer rest period, not with their pride." Thorin grimaced and then laughed. "Not even sure they will sleep so long as six hours anyway, but I can try."

"Indeed."

"And you? Do elves need sleep?" Thorin asked the question a bit awkwardly. Rumor had it that elves didn't sleep, but those that had been living here in Erebor for a while did retire to their rooms at night. If they didn't sleep, what did they do for so long?

"Yes." Elrond dipped his head gracefully, and if he was amused by the question he had the courtesy of not letting it show. "Perhaps not in a sense that would be familiar to you, but we do need rest and sleep. And after a particularly harrowing time such as we have just experienced, I definitely need to do so."

Thorin nodded, relaxing very slightly. Elves were so enigmatic and foreign to him. It was nice when there was a straight-forward answer, and even a similarity between the two races. Especially in light of Kili's mixed heritage.

"Something appears to weigh on Kuilaith's mind."

The king snorted and gave a rough laugh, waving off Elrond's surprised look. "Nay. My amusement is not aimed at you. Only that I have noted the same. Kili is not one to hide his emotions, and suddenly it dawns on me. That is not a dwarrow trait, nor is it an elven one. Are we SURE of his parentage?"

Elrond's mouth twitched as his eyebrows rose, then suddenly he gave a small chuckle as he made a face of fatigue and chagrin. "I had not considered that." He remarked, clearly speaking on Kili's mobile expressions and not on his parentage which was no longer in question.

"Could be the human or the Maia." Thorin said, for the first time mentioning Kili's mixed blood without difficulty or pain. His amusement didn't last long, not with how fatigued he felt. Finally he grunted. "Rest then. It may be the last chance we get for quite a while."

"Indeed." Elrond said in weary agreement.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"They do not care for the treasures they have been given." The words were whisper soft.

Tauriel's back straightened, though she did not turn around. She fought every instinct she had not to spin and bow. He was no longer her king. Slowly she put down the bed roll she had been preparing and turned with deliberate pacing. Her green eyes moved up to around Thranduil's mouth, and stopped. She closed her teeth together and forced herself to meet his eyes.

Thanduil's own gaze showed some surprise, maybe, the expression was gone too quickly for her to really register. Now he was giving her a mockingly sympathetic look, his eyes lingering deliberately upon the injury around her left eye.

"Given?" She said in as even a voice as she could muster.

The elvish king blinked, then slid his gaze to meet hers. "I gifted your release from my service to the Lady Galadriel." He told her, his own smooth voice a bit of a warning. He had noted her boldness and was not in approval.

Recalling Dwalin's yelling at her, and the words of the Dwarves here. Tauriel did not let her gaze drop. Instead her chin rose.

"You grow brave." His mocking grew a bit steeper.

"I was always brave."

Thranduil nodded, though did not drop his eyes or make the move subservient in any way. "Brave to the side of foolhardiness."

It was a pointed though veiled insult, as he clearly meant her choice of following a dwarven prince out of love.

Tauriel though, was not diminished by his mockery. Indeed, it helped steady her heartrate and gave her further courage. "I am honored and valued here."

As she had not been in his palace. Thranduil's eyes widened slightly, as if taken aback by her subtle challenge. "You've changed."

The red-head paused, letting the thought permeate her mind. Finally she shook her head. "I think not. I just have been given leave to be myself."

"Give a mount too much rein and they will break their leg …." He paused most deliberately. "Or their necks. Tragic either way."

Tauriel stared at him, but did not want to cause insult. If she turned back to what she had been doing, that would be cutting and wrong. If she continued to stare at him, it was a challenge. If she dropped her gaze it would demean herself. She softened her voice. "There is much I would miss of what was my home, but I am happy here." It was a gift to him, and yet a clear pronouncement that she was happy with her decisions.

Thranduil paused, weighing the moment carefully as was his wont. He grunted and looked away, releasing her to move away and not cause him insult. The tension between them eased somewhat. "There are those who would miss your presence and your stubborn ways."

His voice left no doubt he was not one of them. She took that at face value and nodded, missing the quick look he sent her with sorrow in his eyes as she gestured toward the tray on a small stool that had survived unscathed. "I can offer little at the moment. The wine is well enough, but I could only find some mugs meant for ale."

"Erebor will not be safe, not for a long while."

Tauriel stilled, unsure. She turned, listening. "S ….sir?" She'd almost called him sire.

Thranduil paused, his expression almost angry. Still, she'd served him for several hundred years. She knew the facial expression to be the one he wore when he didn't want anyone to read him. "I will not offer you a position, you have thrown that away."

The red-headed she-elf nodded, not disputing his words for arguing with him would have been pointless. She did not mention his own words of having made a gift of her to the Lady of Light. It was all moot. They all knew she'd wanted to be here in Erebor.

"But I can offer a bower of safety for you …" He paused, giving her a sly look. "And a few of your choosing." He meant the princes. Fili and Kili. "At least until the mountain can defend itself once more."

Tauriel nearly wept as she realized what his offer meant. Thanduil was offering her forgiveness. For wanting to leave his service, for loving Kili, for disobeying him. He'd never say as such, not if she lived longer than he had already. Not ever. Her voice softened and she had to blink rapidly to keep the moisture from gathering in her eyes. "A most generous offer."

"It is, isn't it?" Thranduil's voice returned to its full mocking glory. "Of course, some recompense should be offered in return."

"Of course." She gifted him with a short bow. The payment he'd demand would be nominal at best, and really only a means of salving his pride. Inviting dwarves into the Mirkwood? Giving them refuge and treating them as honored guests? Along with a Silvan elf? No. Recompense would be asked for as a means of not looking overly sentimental, or even kind.

"Such will not be necessary." Tauriel began, then hurried as he sent her an almost betrayed look. "As another plan is being made, and your assistance would be necessary. Essential and paramount. Though I beg you not to say such to any as yet, as this is most secret at the moment."

"Just who am I keeping this information from?" He asked, his temper rising up, wondering if he was once more three steps behind.

"The Lady, Thorin, the wizards. All." She knew this would appeal to him immensely.

Thranduil's brows rose slightly as he considered her response.

"Kili will explain to the others, but not until later this evening at the big meeting that has been called."

Thranduil made a dismissive move with one hand, he knew of the meeting. He was to be there. His gaze sharpened on her face, as if searching for answers there.

"You save me the trouble of trying to seek your counsel unheeded by outside ears. You, and your assistance, is imperative to success."

The elvish king made a moue of distaste. "Do not pander to my pride."

Tauriel made no mention that the art of pandering to Thranduil's pride was a way of life for his court and guards, and had been for as long as she could remember. "I ….Kili and I have a favor to ask."

Thranduil nodded slowly, to indicate he'd heard. Finally, he tilted his head in silence, a mute indicator to go ahead and ask. The two of them often did not need words between them to understand each other.

Tauriel paused, realizing there was a part of her that would miss her prickly monarch. Her gaze softened as she outlined her request.

The elvish king caught the change in her expression and something within him eased. The open wound of her rejection of him and his world became slightly less jagged around the edges. Tauriel. He hadn't considered how much her presence would be missed before she'd been gone.

When she'd first left, he'd been angry and confused. He had been sure she'd be back, begging. It wasn't until she'd returned with Glorfindel that he'd realized that she wasn't going to be running back to him. It was then he'd come to understand, that he'd valued her. Now, as he listened to her outline Kili's plans, he realized that he'd actually gotten fond of her over the years.

Thranduil listened to the plan laid out before him, then began asking some pertinent questions. A fondness for someone did not mean you gave them anything they asked for, after all.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Erelinde and Brunere had their heads close together, grinning like dwarflings on Yule morning. While another dwarrowdam was tidying up four bedrolls before the hearth, which held a nice little blaze.

Dis nodded, sniffing the room appreciatively. The lasses had checked out the hearth to make sure it was ventilating properly and had found some way to sweeten the air. Looking around she saw dust and rubble in one corner, ready to be hauled out, but the rest of the room looked neat enough. Unfortunately the bed looked like it was part of the trash heap. "Could the mattress not be salvaged?"

The younger dwarrowdams looked up quickly. The one dam that Dis wasn't familiar with smiled easily enough. "Torn, but Erelinde stitched it up well enough. It's beneath the bed roll." She pointed to the other side of the hearth and showed a fifth sleeping space.

"So it is." Dis said, though she did not introduce herself. That was not dwarrow custom. The first one introduced was ceding a level of importance to the other. A higher ranked individual could be introduced first, but that was when one was giving an honor to the other person.

"May I make known to you Sealyn Heavyaxe? This is the Lady Dis of Durin's Kin and sister to the King Under the Mountain." Brunere said smoothly.

Sealyn nodded in acknowledgement, though she'd known good and well who the dam approaching them was. She had been there at the Lady's arrival, after all.

"Heavyaxe?" Dis said with warmth. "I hear you are considering attachment to a relative of mine."

Sealyn blushed as she raised one hand, pushing stray hair back behind her ears. "I am unsure, Lady. I do not want to be seeking outside of the King's will."

Dis stilled, hearing the words, but unsure how to proceed. "Last I knew, Nori was in the King's good graces."

Sealyn's blush grew deeper and she seemed to grow nervous under the scrutiny of the elder dwarrowdam. Dis took pity on her and nodded. "I am sure that you will choose wisely and well, and I suspect he will be a very lucky dwarrow."

"Thank you, Lady Dis." Sealyn said, glad the subject was ending.

"Speaking of lucky dwarrow." Erelinde pulled the attention from one friend to the other in a smooth manner. Gently she tugged Brunere's newest braid forward.

"Nashatal!" Dis smiled, truly gratified to see something to be celebrated amid all the destruction of the past two days. "Congratulations! And four beads? Nicely done."

"I was expecting two." Brunere admitted ruefully, a bit embarrassed at the heaviness of her nashatal braid.

"Proving that more than two dwarrow have excellent taste." Sealyn grinned. "In fact, there could have been more beads but I believe you turned some down?"

This time it was Brunere who blushed as the others laughed, though not at her expense. Erelinde gave her friend a one-armed hug and smiled happily.

"We have discussed the courting future of two of you three." Dis raised an eyebrow at the white-blonde who had so thoroughly captured her son's attention.

But Erelinde had been expecting something along these lines ever since Dis had commented on her friend's new braid. "I was able to help in the search through the prince's apartments before the singing this morning. I'm afraid much of his things were badly damaged. His blades were mostly salvageable, being in a sturdy trunk. But his fiddle is beyond repair."

Dis smiled, knowing the young blonde was avoiding the original topic, but decided to allow the conversational change to stand. "Fili crafted that fiddle himself, but my rooms were not as badly damaged. I had brought along his father's fiddle from Ered Luin."

Erelinde smiled immediately. "That is good news!"

"And your things?"

The white-blonde shook her head, her braids still hanging loose behind her without the pins to hold them up. "I have not yet had a chance to look. But the area was badly damaged."

Dis nodded, trying not to let her smile grow too widely. Silly lass. She turned the subject away from romance, but her actions were telling enough. Erelinde had focused on recovering Fili's things, before looking to her own. And the disaster of the last couple of days had shown her that the younger dam wasn't simply a pretty face with nothing more to recommend her.

"Did you need us for something, Lady Dis?" Sealyn asked.

Dis looked around at the lovely dwarrowdams, though they were not as pretty as they would normally be. Not with the grime, sweat, and fatigue of the recent emergencies. Still. These were dams all worthy of their names. "I was hoping to speak with Erelinde, as a matter of fact. But it really can wait until after you all get some rest. Perhaps tonight, after the evening meal?"

"That would be fine, Lady." Erelinde nodded her head. She didn't know what Fili's mam wanted to speak with her about, not specifically.

"No reason for alarm." Dis laughed at the cautious expression in those sky-blue eyes. "I want to formally introduce you to Balin."

Erelinde blinked, looking confused. "We have met."

"Not formally." Brunere suddenly smiled, shaking her head. Erelinde nodded that, yes, she had. "For …training?"

Erelinde's face went from confused to shocked, then to something approaching neutrality.

"You may not want to talk about adding weight to your braids." An allusion to the courting beads that were tradition. Dis smiled with what actually looked like kindness. "But you should have a clearer understanding of what you'll be letting yourself in for if you do." She held out her hands to show them empty. "I am not trying to scare you off, but to give you fair warning."

"Tauriel too?" Erelinde asked absently. But at the sudden freezing of Dis' facial expression she realized the importance of her own question. "Tauriel too." She changed her words from a question to a statement.

"She has spent several dwarrow lifetimes in a court already. I'm sure she has a good handle on protocol." Dis said evasively.

Silence filled the room except for the crackling of the hearth fire. Sealyn finally cleared her throat and stepped into the conversational breach. "Not Dwarven protocol and politics."

Dis gave the Heavyaxe dam a gimlet look, but did not feel like fighting this battle. "We shall see. Perhaps it would be a prudent idea."

"We will tell her as soon as she returns." Erelinde commented. "She's retrieving some items from her own room."

"You, Brunere and Sealyn, as well as Calbrinia." Dis looked pointedly at the four bedrolls. Then looked at the separate bedding, apart from them by a good amount of space. "Tauriel." Her voice sounded arch.

Erelinde stiffened, but Brunere put her good hand over her friend's knee to still her words.

Sealyn smiled and shook her head. "Me, Erelinde, and Brunere. Tauriel is next to us. Calbrinia is coming with two of Dain's female warriors with their bedding. Good rooms with a working hearth are not as plentiful as they should be." She pointed to the separate bedding. "Brorgic Grimbasher. Brunere's father."

Dis drew herself up stiffly, but made no remark or answer.

"Da is wounded, and now that he's not singing about turnips anymore, he'll sleep well enough. But I'd like to keep an eye on him." Brunere explained. "The other dwarrowdams agreed that I could."

"Of course."

"My father is bunking with his mining crews. They are sleeping in shifts so that the work never ceases. He will stay with them until all the missing are accounted for." Erelinde said softly.

Dis nodded, then looked toward Sealyn. The inky-haired dam answered the unasked question. "My father is back at home, preparing the mines for proper closing. Or if the king prefers, to set up work crews for coal and minor metals that are needed in the rebuilding efforts."

"I'm glad to hear that all your fathers have survived, and are doing well." Dis said. "Their songs are not ready to be sung, and for that we are all grateful."

It wasn't an apology, but it was heartfelt. The dams all nodded in gratitude.

"Rest well."

"And you, Lady Dis. Rest well." Erelinde said gently. "I will see you after the evening meal."

Dis turned and left them, walking away slowly. When she got to the larger hallway she stopped, looking around. Most everyone was resting, or still leading the recovery efforts for those who were unaccounted for. Though that list was growing ever smaller. There would be fewer and fewer successful finds, and more bodies to be located instead.

Calbrinia and two battle-maids wearing Dain's colors passed her, obviously heading to the room she'd just left.

"Cousin?"

Dis turned, finding Dain beside her. She snorted lightly. "I was just thinking about you."

"Nothing dark or heavy, I hope."

"On the contrary. I applaud your choice of dwarrowdams." Dis teased, trying to lighten her mood.

Dain sensed her inner struggle, but responded to her words. "She made the choice, not I."

"You have been the target of many a dwarrowdam. Do not pretend otherwise. Many, many, wanting to have you court them. Though, I do recall you bribing me to scare off at least three of them in years past."

"Only two, as I recall." Dain held up two fingers and named the dams in question.

Dis shook her head and added a third name which caused Dain to grimace in remembrance. "I'd forgotten."

"That you allow Calbrinia to come so close, yes. I applaud this move." Dis grinned. "So far. Though if she turns out not to your liking, you may have to get someone else to scare her off. I'm doing a poor job of frightening away potential wives these days."

Dain laughed, throwing back his head as he did so. Eyes turned toward them, but no one approached as the leader from the Iron Hills shook his head, still chuckling. "An elf and a shy crafting beauty. Thwarting you? I would not have thought such as possible."

Dis smiled reluctantly. "In fact you owe me for past services rendered. Care to scare them off for me?"

"And face the wrath of your sons? I think not, sweet cousin. I'll have to keep owing you instead."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"That was longer than four hours."

Thorin turned away from Balin to look at his crown prince. Fili looked much improved, clean and with good color that owed nothing to a fever. He still looked tired around the eyes, but with a renewed vigor that spoke well of his youth and strength. And he did not sound angry.

Fili grinned at him. "Did you get any rest?" He asked, teasingly.

"Actually, yes." Thorin nodded, then flicked his head at Balin. "He didn't. He's on orders to sleep throughout the night after this meeting."

"I think Dis wanted to speak with me, actually." Balin yawned and shook his head. "I can rest after that." He looked up and met the king's look. "I promise."

Thorin grunted, looking around the room at those gathering. Human, Elvish, and Dwarvish. "If Saruman was looking to divide us for Sauron, he failed."

Fili growled at the names, but nodded grimly.

"Before we begin. I would like a chance to speak." The voice rang out throughout the room, pulling all attention toward the speaker.

Galadriel stood still as a statue, but there was no mistaking that power-filled voice. Fili blinked and shook his head before looking again. "Why does she look like she is standing in a ray of light?" He looked vainly for the source of that illumination.

"I've quit asking those kind of questions." Thorin said tiredly, he gestured for his nephew to sit. Suddenly he frowned, looking around. "Where is your brother?"

"He went to visit his father earlier." Fili answered even as Balin pointed across the room. "Oh, there he is, talking to Gandalf and Radagast."

Thorin frowned at the sight. Why did Kili look so …conspiratorial?

"You are looking better, son."

Fili stiffened at his mother's voice, but then forcibly relaxed and nodded. "I feel better, thank you."

It was a stiff, if polite, answer. Dis frowned, but Thorin knew it was good progress. He grunted in approval at his sister-son.

"Kili was up before I was." Fili admitted ruefully, straightening his leather vest.

"Your brother never needed as much sleep as everyone else. It's like he was opposed to being left out of anything life had to offer." Dis chuckled at the memories of her youngest son. "Always ready for more. Oh the trouble I had with him at bedtimes."

Thorin stilled, then shook his head. He felt it better not to mention to his sister that perhaps Kili needing less sleep might be a reflection on his Elvish blood.

"Kuilaith had brought forth a theory earlier on, in which he posited that the wedding between the Lady Dis of Durin's Line and Elladan of Imladris was brought about by the Dark Lord, Sauron."

More than her calling for attention, her words made all focus on her entirely. Galadriel smiled, but it was not a happy expression. "I considered such a thing as unlikely, but it appears that I was deceived. That we all were."

Thorin looked quickly over at his dark-haired nephew, but Kili was staring at Galadriel with an unreadable expression. He glanced around, and found that Elrond's gaze was also upon the young prince.

Galadriel's voice did not rise, nor was she yelling to be heard. Her words simply filled the room and no one appeared to be straining to hear. "With assistance." The Lady of Light gestured toward both her husband and the newly arrived Cirdan. "I have come to the unwelcome conclusion that not only were both families deceived and led to this marriage, but the use of drugs and magic were also used as coercion."

Dis shifted next to him, as if distressed. Thorin's hand grabbed that of his younger sibling, and she clutched at his grip as if her life depended upon it. Yet her face showed no reaction at all.

"It was a rape. Of both bride and groom, by evil means, by evil intent."

Those harsh words made everyone shift uncomfortably. Fili's arm was suddenly wrapped around his mother's shoulders, though she leaned on no one.

"It is my thought that I believe that the ultimate goal was for the death of Kuilaith, also known as Kili, and possibly the deaths of his mother and brother as well. A schism rising between Dwarven and Elven races that could never be healed nor scaled, with each blaming the other side and sorrow all around."

No one interrupted as the Lady of Light continued. "However, with Thror's death and Saruman not present as he dealt with other events, Dis came to herself long enough to run away. Leaving no word of any fruit of her union with my family."

Dis' grip on his hand was near painful, but Thorin refused to let go. Not now.

"What the Lady Dis did may be unforgivable, stealing a child from his father. But by her actions, she more than likely saved not only her own life, but that of her unborn child. From either death or slavery, under the heel of Mordor. Or even possibly far worse fates."

Tears tracked unbidden down Dis' face, though she made no sound nor movement.

"With the marriage sundered, Mordor obviously felt that there was enough hatred and blame between us to keep an alliance from forming again. Sauron did not count on the miracle that is Kuilaith. Nor the fact that both families love him more than they hate each other."

Finally Dis gave a gasping type of breath, as if her lungs had spasmed, but then she quieted once more. Her death grip on Thorin's hand even loosened somewhat.

"Erebor's defenses are a shamble right now, through no fault of the dwarves. The attack here should have been far more devastating if not for the heroics of all involved." Galadrial dipped her head graciously in Thorin's direction. He dipped his head back towards her, refusing to take all the praise. "Kuilaith should be safe now, except that Sauron is a murderous evil that will strike out of revenge for plans blocked. I propose that we elves bring in extra troops and provisions …."

"Nay."

Everyone stilled, stunned that anyone would interrupt Galadriel, much less say her nay.

Kili stepped up onto one of the tables, turning to look at everyone in turn. He then ended up facing the mother of his father's mother. He bowed apologetically. "Stripping the elvish strongholds to protect Erebor puts more at risk than it saves. Not for me. Not for me."

"Child …" Her voice was full of love unspoken. Galadriel smiled at him in a way that had Dis swaying in a way that her speech had not.

"I cannot stay in Erebor." Kili turned and stared at his uncle and king, even as he licked his lips. "Not until the defenses here are rebuilt to withstand Mordor. If I stay, he will allow not one stone to stand, not one dwarrow left alive."

"Kili!"

The young brunet prince refused to meet his brother's distressed gaze, shaking his head as he looked instead at his mother's brother. His king. "Uncle. I serve this kingdom with my whole heart and being and I serve all dwarrow who are of Durin's Line. But above and before all, I have ever looked to be of service to you."

Thorin nodded at him, not trusting himself to speak, not yet. His heart was breaking even as the more pragmatic side of him recognized the truth of Kili's words.

"I look not to leave forever, or even for very long. A year, maybe two. Build faster and I will return HOME all the faster." The young prince forced a laugh from his lips. He turned to his brother, meeting Fili's agonized look. "You cannot come with me. You're needed here."

"Kili." This time the name was a whisper, and a plea.

"Without me here, Mordor's eye will turn elsewhere. If it is unknown where I am, then Sauron will be distracted."

Galadriel stirred finally. "Unknown?"

Dis shook her head, and Thorin expected her to protest strongly. When she spoke, her words were a shock to him. "You will go to Lothlorien or Imladris." She said demandingly, her heart in her throat and obviously struggling. Yet, as a mother, she clearly wanted her son safe. "I too will go." It was a stunning offer, to live with the elves.

Kili's face softened as he shook his head at his mother. "You are needed here, and you will be far safer here than with me."

Glorfindel shook his head, stepping forward. "Lothlorien and Imladris will be the first places that Sauron will think of."

"Gray Havens?" King Bard asked, looking toward Cirdan the Shipwright. "Less likely he will look there."

Kili shook his head. "None of those places. I have a plan, but the destination will not be discussed so openly."

"I will go with you." Elrohir stepped forward next. "I will keep him safe." He bowed in Dis' direction.

The dwarrowdam let her tears flow, and made no motion to wipe them away. She was not ashamed of her emotions. She bowed back toward Elrohir. "I know you will."

Kili shook his head. "Pardon all. But I have a plan, and I will discuss it with a select few. For now, I suggest we get on with our original meeting agenda. Rebuilding Erebor and making safe our borders."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin thought it would take about one minute after the main meeting ended. It actually only took about fifteen seconds.

"You're not really going to let him leave, are you?" Fili hissed, trying hard to keep his voice down.

Thorin looked at his nephew, and then met the equally as distraught gaze of his sister. "You will listen to what Kili has to say, as will I. Then we will judge his 'plan' on its own merits."

Fili's hand came down on the king's forearm in a bruising grip. "You can't let him go off on his own!"

Thorin's brows rose as he stared at the blond's hand on his arm. Fili growled, and actually tightened his hold for a few seconds, but when the king's gaze narrowed on his heir, he finally let go. Yet he wasn't giving in, not yet. "You have to stop him!"

"And you have to stop treating him like a child." Thorin looked at both Fili and Dis.

"You cannot abandon him, not again!" Fili stressed his words strongly, standing up quickly. Thorin glared up at his nephew, not ceding the authority just because he was being towered over. Slowly he stood, his own height over that of his prince. Striking blue eyes met and clashed together, almost like two alpha wolves struggling for dominance.

It was Fili whose gaze dropped first. Though his words were no less aggressive. "Don't do this, Thorin."

"I will do nothing but listen to him. I will make judgement then." Thorin said, hiding his own misgivings. Would it make life easier to rebuild without Kili drawing Sauron's eye and ire? Yes. But that didn't mean he would allow his second heir to rabbit off somewhere. "I will listen, and so will you."

Fili growled, but said nothing further.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Well. We are fewer now, are you willing to discuss your plans?" Thorin asked caustically as he glanced around the room. There was Galadriel, Celeborn, Glorfindel, Elrohir and Elrond for the elves. For the dwarves there was he and Dis, as well as Dain and Fili. Tauriel's inclusion was nearly a foregone decision. Yet Thranduil's presence was a surprise, to say the least.

"Two more." Kili murmured, then smiled as Gandalf and Radagast arrived. "Now." He announced, even as the wizards shut the door behind them.

"Where will you go?" Dis asked, anxious and shaky ever since she'd heard her son's decision. "And is it necessary? You heard the elves, they will protect you here."

"And leave themselves and their homes open to attack." Kili shook his head. "Not to mention, if …no, when we face off against Sauron we have to be strong. Thinning our forces just to protect my life? Foolishness."

Dain coughed, but did not argue. He glanced at Thorin, who caught his look. Kili's assessment of the situation was on target. So far.

Galadriel seemed saddened, yet proud, as she watched the child of her line. "You are not coming to Lothlorien." She did not ask it as a question, and it appeared to sorrow her terribly.

"I will, but not now. Not for this. I will not draw the Dark One's eye in that direction. Nor Rivendell." Kili glanced over at his father's father. Elrond nodded his head at the lad, as if to an equal.

"Where?" Fili demanded, so tight with tension he looked near to breaking.

Kili looked long at his brother, even as he shook his head. "I will let you know. I think for tonight, only Galadriel and Thorin need to have that knowledge." He said, deliberately choosing both sides of his heritage.

Fili protested loudly, but Thorin's hand on his shoulder stilled his words finally. The blond crown prince looked angry and upset. After a moment, he continued. "I can go with you. Protect you." It wasn't an offer, but a demand.

"And put you at further risk?" Kili huffed and smiled very sadly. "You, brother, are the very future of Erebor that I seek to protect. What use is building up the kingdom's defenses if not for you continuing the Line of Durin?"

"I will be with him." Tauriel vowed. No one protested, in fact, no one was surprised. It had been a given from the moment that Kili had stated he would have to leave the kingdom for a time.

"Not alone." Elrohir vowed.

Kili sighed, rubbing his face wearily. "Here is where the arguments will come. I have thought this through, don't think I haven't. But I need my uncle Elrohir not with me, but drawing Mordor's eye, so that I can get away."

Everyone stirred, looking around at each other. Gandalf smiled gently and nodded at Kili.

The young brunet nodded back. "But. I'm taking my father with me."

Elrond protested immediately and sharply, as did just about everyone else in the room. Thorin took notice that Tauriel, the wizards, and even that puffin-jay Thranduil all seemed quiescent. As if already aware of this part of Kili's plans.

Gandalf raised one hand and called for attention. "Please, just listen to him. You all love him, now learn to trust him."

"You already are in on this!" Thorin barked out the accusation harshly.

Gandalf blinked slowly at him, then deliberately turned his attention back toward Kili. Thorin had no choice but to follow suit.

Kili shook his head. "Elladan cannot heal here. He needs light, and peace, and a lot of it. The place I have in mind is perfect. And there are safeguards enough nearby. Being a secret will be our best defense, which is why I do not tell you of my destination, not yet."

Elrond leaned back in his chair, not looking happy, but at least listening. "How do you propose to make this happen?"

"Let everyone know we plan on leaving. Don't hide it. Word will get to Sauron." Kili's mouth twisted in distaste. "There are always those willing to sell information. Let us make use of them."

Celeborn nodded slowly, his eyes pinned on Kuilaith. "Wise. Yet, how does that aid in your plan?"

Kili grimaced and pointed at Elrohir. "Have him pretend to be Elladan, send out dwarves and Glorfindel with him. Take him halfway to Lothlorien and then …just disappear."

"A false trail." Elrond spoke as he considered the words. "Not a bad plan."

"I can join you later." Elrohir didn't sound as pleased with the plan as did his father. He obviously did not like being separated from both his nephew and his own twin.

"Perhaps." Kili looked over at his elvish uncle with appreciation and thankfulness. "I also will not be with Lord Elrond nor Cirdan as they both take their leave. Though there can be some subterfuge to make it look like they are smuggling something out of Erebor."

Elrond smiled a bit wanly. "It is a long journey to Imladris. And I don't know how long or far you plan to go. But I don't believe that Elladan will be up to such a thing."

"The Mirkwood."

Kili grimaced as all eyes turned to a smug looking Thranduil. "I have offered safe haven to the prince and his father. For a short time at least. Until Elladan is well enough to travel further afield."

"Unexpected." Glorfindel commented very dryly.

Thorin blinked, staring at the elvish monarch that had once held him prisoner. "As a guest?" He asked caustically.

Thranduil dipped his head in mute acknowledgement of the past, and his complicity in holding the dwarrow against their will. "Free and clear as an honored guest."

"When my father is well enough to travel, we will go with Gandalf and Radagast to a safe place. With them we will travel faster and safer than otherwise." Kili continued.

Fili settled down a bit. The Mirkwood wasn't very far from Erebor. He didn't like the sound of Kili going elsewhere, but he could deal with the plan. For now. "Tauriel and Elladan. You need more with you." Clearly he wanted to be the one going with them.

Kili tilted his head and looked toward his uncle. "You decide."

Thorin grunted. "Dwalin." He said, without even looking in Fili's direction.

"You need him here." Fili shook his head in denial.

Thorin growled, finally pinning his crown prince with a direct look. "I need you here. And I need your brother safe. Dwalin." He then turned back to Kili. "And I am not saying you should go anywhere else for the moment."

"I cannot stay in the Mirkwood. It's too close and Sauron will turn his eye in that direction soon enough. I need to disappear for a while. Staying with King Thranduil in the short term makes sense. But after that, I have to be away."

Thorin sighed, feeling the headache of worry already settling into his skull. "I will think on this."

Kili and Fili both started to protest, loudly, but the king stood and roared at them to sit down. When the brunet obediently parked his butt on his chair the king nodded and turned to stare at Fili. The elder of the two brothers sat down more slowly, but he did sit, though his whole body seemed to be vibrating in protest. "I have to think on this. In the meantime. Walk with me." His voice brooked no argument, and included no one else.

Fili shifted in his seat, looking utterly miserable.

Thorin sighed and pointed at one nephew and then the other. "With me." They both hurried after him without hesitation. Leaving the others to stew and mull over the recent events.

Thorin wasn't sure at first where he was going, or what he was going to say. He really didn't know what to think. Not yet. But telling the two striplings behind him that he was clueless was not an option.

As he turned a corner, he glanced behind him at the thundercloud expression on one face, and the carefully neutral expression on the other. He didn't care for either look. Frowning, his feet made the decision before his mind did. But when he realized where he was going, he grunted. Yes. This was right.

"Where are we going?" Fili asked, after several minutes of silence. When Thorin didn't answer he must have looked at his brother. For Kili muttered that he'd never been down this passageway before.

"There's no rubble in this hallway." Fili said after managing to stay silent for nearly twenty minutes.

"There wouldn't be." Thorin said, being deliberately vague. "This is the heart."

"Of what?" Kili piped up next. "Erebor?"

"Yes and no." Thorin said, amusing himself by leaving them guessing. "Not the geographical center. But a hallowed place nonetheless."

Kili and Fili muttered some more behind him, but at least they weren't arguing about 'the plan' at the moment.

Finally Thorin approached a wall. A dead end. He turned toward his two sister-sons and raised his lantern that he'd grabbed off the wall of the earlier tunnels. He grinned and blew out the light.

Darkness enveloped them completely. There was no afterimage. No dim light. No night vision. There was a complete absence of light. Thorin waited. He wasn't disappointed when his nephews made a few scuffing sounds. As if to reassure their senses that they were still where they thought they were.

Thorin cleared his throat and they both stilled. When he spoke, it was entirely in Khuz-dul. "In the beginning there was stone. Rock. Mahal, The Maker, could have used any medium to create his people with, but he chose Stone. Stone is stubborn. Stone is hardy and will withstand much. Stone is strong. Stone will never bend nor bow. If broken, it is still …stone."

Fili and Kili listened intently, not being able to see made their ears more inclined to hear every nuance of their uncle's voice. His words sounded like ritual. Like a well-known story, not made up on the spot. The brother of their mother wasn't telling them something small. Their king was teaching them. Both leaned toward him in the darkness.

"Stone was crafted into the First Fathers. Durin." Thorin's words echoed in the perfect acoustics of the hallway, the sound of their ancestor's name drawing gooseflesh on their arms and backs.

"Yet Mahal could not give the spark of life to his creations. And Iluvatar was not well pleased that the Khazad were crafted in secret." Thorin continued, naming the dwarven race by one of their first names. Mahal gave his creations over to Iluvatar to do with as he willed, including destruction. But when the Maker's hammer was raised to destroy the Seven Fathers, they shrank back and begged for mercy. For Illuvatar had taken pity and granted us the spark of life."

With that runes began to glow on the dead-end wall behind Thorin. Brought into the sharpest of relief by the very darkness surrounding them all. With nothing else to see, their eyes could not leave as the runes appeared. Telling once more the story of Mahal and his creations, the Dwarven race. The Khazad. The Gonnhirrim, the Masters of Stone.

Thorin paused and listened with amused pride as both Fili and Kili breathed in perfect rhythm with each other, and though they might not realize it, in synch with the magic lighting the runes behind him. He could still remember the awe he'd felt when his own father had done this with him. It was with a sudden pang of sorrow that he realized his father was no longer with him to share this moment with the next generation.

The runes continued until the story finished, then they began to glow brighter and brighter and wider until a door formed right in front of them. Thorin grinned at the awestruck expressions on the faces of both Kili and Fili, reading their reluctance and pride to follow him into the newly revealed room.

"I should have done this already. But …events delayed me." He said in reference to the elves riding to claim Kili. "And I thought there would be plenty of time." He grimaced and nodded toward the far wall.

More lights, pinpricks of blue and green glowing light as they coalesced onto the stone. This time the runes spelled out the names of all the direct line of Durin. From the father himself, down through Thror and Thrain to Thorin. The glow filled the room with a beautiful light as the king led his princes to a low stone pillar in the center of the room.

"Uhm, Erebor is younger than most of these names." Kili said in a whisper, then shut up quickly as Thorin shot him a harsh glare.

"Fili, son of Nehili. Son of Dis and heir of Thorin. Place yourself here." The king pointed and his crown prince stepped forward. "Your hand."

Following the gesture, Fili put his hand on the stone pillar. He waited for further instructions.

"Say your name and line. Sing the Stone."

Fili did as he was told. Proudly he proclaimed himself and started to sing the Song of Stone. As before he began to feel a slight awareness, but this time, in this secret place, that feeling grew. And grew. Warmth flooded him and his breath caught as he saw a new rune start to appear on the wall, as if drawn by a finger of light. His name. His rune.

Kili's breath caught and Thorin saw his younger nephew's eyes widen with terror. He shook his head as Fili finished his song. "That won't work for me. The mountain won't know me."

Fili caught the despair in his sibling's voice and grabbed him. "Of course it will!"

Thorin shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. But you won't know until you try."

"I couldn't feel the song!" Kili protested sharply, pulling away from his beloved brother, ashamed. "Earlier? Everyone was singing, and they could feel it, but not me!"

Thorin stepped forward and lightly slapped his younger nephew sharply, but with no real power behind his move. Still, it shocked the youngster enough to still him. "You are of Durin's line. The only shame here is if you don't try."

Kili growled at him, and glared daggers at his uncle. Thorin grinned. "That's the spirit I know." He pointed over at the stone pillar with all the authority that he could muster.

The young brunet slammed his hand down onto the pillar. "I am Kili. Son of Elladan and Dis. Heir to Thorin. I am the child of Elf and Khazad." Almost defiantly he began to sing. And sing. And sing.

Thorin looked at Fili, but the blond was staring at the wall as if daring the mountain to reject his brother. "Kili …I …." Here, the king stopped. For there was a new glow as another rune began to be drawn on the wall. Achingly slow at first, the speed picked up until Kili's name joined that of his ancestors.

Fili cheered and roared, jumping nearly three feet in the air as soon as the rune was completed. Thorin couldn't quit grinning even as Kili marched over to him and slapped him back all while laughing. The king grinned and grabbed his youngest nephew and hugged him so tightly that his ribs began to creak.

All were laughing and celebrating for a long time until they started to come back to themselves. Kili butted his uncle's head with his own. "Thank you."

"Kili. Prince of Erebor. I am so proud of you." Thorin looked over at a beaming Fili. "Both of you."

"I knew it, I knew it!" Fili crowed happily as he clapped his brother on the back in pure joy.

Thorin sobered and then put one hand on a shoulder of each of his heirs. They quieted slowly, turning expectant gazes at him. He focused on each one in turn, settling on Kili's dark melting gaze.

"I failed you both, and yet you are still with me. I do not deserve this gift."

They both made protesting noises and he shook both of them just enough to let them know he wasn't done talking. Not yet.

"Kili. You don't have to leave Erebor. I will do all that I need to do, and more, to protect you. I will die for you."

The young brunet gasped and would have interrupted but for a sharp look from his king. "I chose Erebor over you once. I will not do it twice."

Fili's face looked tragic as he glanced over at his brother. Kili's face was equally upset as he shook his head.

"I choose you two."

Silence filled the small chamber and finally it was Fili who broke down first. "I would go with you, brother."

Thorin frowned. "I choose the two of you."

"And we choose you. King Thorin." Kili snapped at him, even as he grinned almost solemnly. "I'm not leaving Erebor now to make your life easier. I'm leaving so you can rebuild and defend her, and then I can come back and make your life miserable with my carefree antics. Isn't that what you used to call them?"

"Still call them that." Muttered the king. "Only, this is more than a simple carefree antic. You should be here."

"Yes. I should be." Kili shook his head. "The fact that I'm not we can lay at Sauron's feet." Then suddenly he paused, then grinned widely. "Actually I can blame Sauron for everything I've ever done. I mean he is kind of the author of how I came to be."

Thorin sighed and leaned forward resting his forehead against first Fili, and then Kili. "No. He may have put things together for you to be born. But after that, all the decisions have been your own for your actions. Scamp."

Kili sighed in contentment. He still had to leave, he knew it. But he had a home here, and Erebor recognized him.

And he would be back.


	60. In which Fili makes a toast

"Your kindness and welcome manner do your ancestors great honor." The old man said, his voice warbling with age and weakness. Yet still strangely compelling and …strong.

The Rohirrim guardsman shifted upon the log he was seated on, as if uncomfortable. He eyed the early morning cooking fire made from dry dead-fall. They were professional soldiers, they knew how to make a tightly run camp. His dark eyes shifted around the area, though his head did not move to show where his attention was going. Mallek, for that was his name, saw that half of their Men were asleep, as they should be following their shifts of duty through the night.

Two of the guardsmen, including their captain, were doing weapon inspection and repair while three more were doing the same with the riding gear. The Rohirrim were meticulous about their equipment, especially when it came to their horses.

The others were either out at their posts or in various stages of making sure the camp ran smoothly. There were two other groups like this one. One to the West, and the other Northeast. They themselves were guarding the only gate into Isengard, here in the south.

Isengard. Also known as Angrenost, the Iron Fortress. Those who were uneducated might assume that Isengard referred to its most famous feature alone, the tower. But that was simply not so. The tower was but a part of the fortress, though a most impressive one. The tower of Orthanc.

Again, he wondered at the mysterious messages sent to their king which had resulted in Mallek and the others riding hard enough to lather their horses out to Isengard. Yes. This place was strategic in defending the Gap of Rohan. Thus, important. Still. Why take hold here? Now? What of the wizard who'd been known to live here? Was he really a traitor as the messages were rumored to have revealed? It was hard to fathom.

Mallek shifted his dark-eyed gaze back to the old man sitting in the foggy morning light, his creepy hands stretched out toward the fire. Creepy? The Rohirrim nodded, if only to himself. Yes. Creepy. You couldn't even see the stranger's eyes for the heavy cloak and hood covering his features. And those hands. Long, wizened and knobby around the joints. Like many an old man. So what made them put his nerves on edge?

The oldster had given them very little information about himself. Yet, they'd pulled him into their camp and treated him like an honored guest. That wasn't normal, it wasn't right. Mallek shook his head again, a dull pain starting to form at the back of his skull making him lose his train of thought.

The guardsman looked around again, casting his eyes on the stones that stacked up so precisely to form Orthanc itself. His thoughts swirled around, as if trying to find someplace to settle. The fog was too thick to see clear to the top, though it would clear out as the morning progressed, he knew. He shivered and pulled his own winter gear closer around him, though he did not move nearer the fire. Or nearer to the old wanderer who'd claimed shelter with them on the yesterday.

"Rohirrim?" The old man spoke up, his voice instantly smoothing over the nerves of his guard.

Mallek smiled in spite of his uneasy mood, as if amused at himself. With the smile he oddly let go of his concerns, as if a rag had just wiped clear the streaks upon strong metal. "Aye. We are Riders of the Riddermark."

The old man nodded companionably and Mallek found himself smiling wider and offering to fetch some cold spring water for their visitor in a manner that anyone knowing him would not recognize.

"No, no." The older male waved his long-nailed hand at him in an easy gesture. "I just wondered why Rohan? Gondor would be a more obvious choice to secure these lands. As Men from that nation originally had constructed this fortress."

Mallek's smile dimmed a bit around the edges. The voice was right, the inflections perfect. There was nothing that should alarm or upset him. Yet. "What do you mean? What do you know of Isengard and who reigns here? We have not said that we have secured anything."

The older man paused just as their captain strode forward and smiled easily at the two. "All is well?"

Mallek looked up, wanting to voice his nebulous concerns, but not sure how to prove the validity of his unease.

"I find this guard to be well trained and well disciplined. Strong. A most impressive showing for Rohan and the Riders." The old man sighed as if unhappy.

That unhappiness made both males of the Rohirrim instantly sad, as if they should do something immediately to alleviate the condition. Mallek shook his head, as if trying to find his way through a mental fog as well as a physical one.

"Such a one as this should not be wasted sitting next to a harmless old man." The voice continued smoothly. Perhaps more smoothly than could be accounted for one who seemed so ancient.

In fact. Mallek frowned. When had he or his fellow Rohirrim ever been so welcoming and unsuspicious of any visitor? Ever. Something wasn't right. The thought teased him, but refused to stay still long enough to find mental focus. In fact, he came to himself only to frown as he realized the conversation had continued on without him. He tried to pull himself back to the present.

"A cave? Over by the south ridge." The captain sounded angry as he nodded toward the old man. "No, you're right. It does sound suspicious. I'll send men to check it out."

"Perhaps my friend here?" The old wanderer waved toward Mallek almost casually. "He seems such a fine example of a strong warrior. Surely you could spare him from sitting with the likes of me?"

The captain nodded, making a gesture for Mallek to stand while almost echoing the old man word for word when giving him orders to search the caves mentioned with a few men.

"Oh, I'm sure that your men don't need to be bothered. Not when this fine example of a soldier can check it out for himself, alone. I am positive there is no finer warrior in this camp."

Mallek and his captain both blinked as the voice of the old man wrapped around their brains. Both nodded in immediate agreement.

The soldier dropped his head and nodded, though his headache was growing more ferocious. But as he moved away from the campfire, that pain began to lessen and lessen as his pace picked up. He was smiling by the time he gathered his gear and took off toward the caves, alone.

Saruman smiled beneath his concealing hood, knowing the orcs in those caves would appreciate the fine meal he was sending their way. It was a waste really. Still that Rider had been stronger willed than most and the wizard needed him gone. He glanced over at the captain of the Riders, as if surprised to still find him standing there.

"I can't leave you unattended." The young captain was explaining, looking around, worried.

The wizard sighed and nodded, though he knew he needed to play along. His control over these Riders was tenuous at the moment. He looked around in distaste at the soldiers moving through camp. So big, so blond, so ….his eyes caught the movement of something interesting. His gaze narrowed. "Him?"

"Galmod?" The captain nodded, gesturing for the smaller male to join them.

Sauron looked onto the sharp features of the newcomer with interest. Here the blood of the Rohirrim was mixed, and with Dunnish if he didn't miss his guess. The Dunlendings were hill folk, and had a great distrust of Rohan, bordering on outright hatred since they'd been forced from their lands.

Saruman smiled. Here was an easier target than that Mallek had been. There would be weaknesses here to exploit aplenty. The mixed ancestry probably leaving small hurts and insults swallowed over the years. Buried deep in his personage.

"The welcome of the morning to you Galmod." Saruman almost crooned in welcome. "You have a family name?"

The smaller male nodded gamely as he joined the cloaked gentleman next to the fire. "Wormtongue." He said quietly, with a sideways glance toward the captain.

The blond male laughed, clapping the smaller man on the back. "His grandsire had a facility with languages and words. Perhaps too great. Got himself mixed up with the unsavory kind, if you understand?"

Galmod dropped his eyes, both he and the wizard hearing the almost dismissive tones of the captain. As if the darker haired man was of less account than the others.

Saruman smiled, seeing the quick look of resignation pass over Galmod's eyes before he'd dropped his gaze to the ground. Oh yes.

This could work in his favor.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

It wasn't going to be a good day, he could already tell.

Fili blinked and pulled back from the light of the lantern he was lighting, making his head pound heavier. He yawned and winced basically at the same time. He looked around the meager room and found himself alone, basically for the first time since his rescue from the fall-in.

He and Kili had stayed up late last night, celebrating the mountain's recognition of both of them. They'd been humbled down in the hidden room, with the runes of their names added to the likes of Thorin and Frerin and the others. Still, when they'd emerged it was less humility and more of a joyous haze.

Fili frowned, recalling how the two of them had carefully avoided speaking about one particular topic. Leaving. Specifically, Kili's proposed plan to leave Erebor for the time being. He didn't like it. Oh, he understood the premise of the idea, and even possibly the necessity for the kingdom's continuing independence from Mordor. He just didn't LIKE it. Not one bit.

The answer, of course, was to go with his brother.

Fili grimaced as he pulled on the leathers he'd worn yesterday, they were all he had currently. Imagine. Being the crown price of one of the richest kingdom's in all of Arda, and all he had to call to his name at the moment was one set of leathers much in need of cleaning. He would have laughed, but his head hurt too much. He wondered if the pain was from the dehydration and fever, or from excess ale that everyone had warned him not to imbibe.

"Head hurt?"

Startled, Fili turned his blue eyes toward the door, and the elf watching him while leaning against the threshold and holding a pitcher.

"Elrohir." The blond acknowledged, noting the concern in the light-gray eyes leveled at him. He knew, having heard from more than one source, that this elf in particular, had cared for him deeply as a child. Not that it mattered, not really. He was a full grown dwarrow now, and the elves had no part in that. Still, a pleasurable warmth teased him as he noted the concern and relief in the elf's eyes. Then he stiffened, pushing away the feeling entirely as unimportant.

"My father felt that your fluid levels would continue to be off, considering what you went through in the past few days." Elrohir lifted up the pitcher with a small smile. "I don't know what's in here, but he was fussing with what bits and bobs of herbs and dried fruits that he could scrounge."

Fili eyed the pitcher with a gimlet expression, frowning.

"Bofur's headache was worse too, he even was having some heart issues. Rhythm out of balance." At the blond's alarmed look, the elf shook his head. "He is currently being fussed over by a certain dwarrowdam and being cossetted and petted. He is fine."

"That is good. I'll check in on him this morning." Fili sounded a bit churlish, even to his own ears. So what if the elf thought of him more warmly than he did in return? He decided it was alright for Elrohir had come by to check on him after all. "Thank you." He gestured toward the pitcher.

"Afternoon actually." Elrohir gave an elegantly casual shrug of his shoulders, drawing the blond's eyes to a fray at the shoulder seam of his tunic. It appeared he wasn't the only one having to make do with limited clothing options. Then the word registered, and Fili's eyes widened slightly as he realized he'd not known the time of day. That was something he'd been able to do without fail since a dwarfling. He scowled lightly, wondering if it was the headache throwing him off. He turned his gesture toward the pitcher into a reach instead.

Elrohir looked around, frowning as he saw the cups the brothers had been drinking from the night before.

Fili saw the disapproval and jumped to a conclusion. "Beggars can't be choosers." He said, alluding to reusing the dirty vessels rather than seeking out something clean.

Hearing the slight censure, the elf gave a small twist of his lips that could have been a smile. "Ale probably wasn't the best choice to drink following a bout of dehydration."

The blond prince drew up, a bit affronted in a way that wouldn't have bothered him if he didn't feel so horribly wrung out. "I'm not four years old anymore." He snapped irately. Then he groaned and rolled his neck. "Actually, you're not the first …or even fifth person have tried to tell me that."

Elrohir paused slightly while pouring the concoction into the mug, but then continued without any other sign that he'd heard. He straightened and handed the liquid to Fili, who accepted with ill grace and a barely polite mumble of gratitude.

"Is it magic that you use to show up just as I was waking?" Fili asked, when the elf made no move toward leaving, or speaking.

The slope of Elrohir's right eyebrow arched upwards as he took a moment before responding. "No. It was checking on you every hour or so and then hearing you moving around the room."

Fili blinked, then sighed. "I am as angry as a bear disturbed before spring. Pay me no mind." He looked up to find the elf looking from his face to the cup, and then back again. With a small sigh the dwarrow prince downed the liquid that smelled vaguely of something herbal.

"I don't want him to leave either."

Fili stilled, then grunted with a rough tumble of a laugh that held no joy or humor. "Cutting right to the heart of it all." He sighed heavily. "I can't go with him. I have duties here that I cannot neglect." He realized the truth of his own words as soon as he uttered them, grimacing sharply.

Elrohir nodded, hearing the heartbreak in the young dwarrow's voice.

"Before Erebor it wouldn't of even have been a consideration." Fili said dryly. "But now the kingdom is a reality, not a far-flung dream with impossible odds."

"And you will one day rule her." Elrohir acknowledged with commiseration and understanding that made the young prince a bit uncomfortable, and yet a bit pleased as well. "From what I have seen of you, you will make a fine ruler."

Fili felt his nerves settle a bit, hearing the pride in the elf's voice. Not a possessive kind, but fond nonetheless. He glanced at the elf. "I've forgiven my mother." He didn't mention that there were still things that Dis had done, was still doing, that irked him.

Elrohir did not appear shocked. He nodded slowly, then gave a wry tilt to his mouth as he sighed. "I should do the same, in light of all that has been revealed. Her actions most likely saved both the lives. Though she caused much hurt as well. Still, I should forgive her I suppose."

"Should?" Meaning there was still anger in the elf's heart. Fili suddenly broke into a wide grin. "I thought your race was more peaceful and forgiving than ours."

The tall elf answered with a slow grin of his own, even as he shook his head and placed the flat of his palm against his chest. "Noldor. We only require enough room in which to disagree. Sometimes strongly." His voice fairly dripped with self-mockery and understatement, as if inviting the young dwarrow to laugh.

Fili managed a real smile and then rolled his shoulders, finding some of the tension easing even if his head still hurt, a lot of the intensity was fading. "Actually, I find it easier to be forgiving knowing that someone is still angry with her and holding her responsible."

Elrohir blinked, stared, then shook his head slightly as his expression returned to something more neutral. "I don't understand that. And I am trying to be more forgiving. Dis' actions did indeed save the lives of she and Kuilaith, as well as yourself."

"Possibly you and Elladan as well." Fili pointed out, then took a deep breath. "How is your brother?"

"Dazed, but mobile. Weak." Elrohir said, but with a lightness that told the young dwarrow how pleased he was about his twin's progress. "I want to go with them."

Fili nodded, knowing the feeling himself.

"Yet I also want to stay and help rebuild here." The elf said in a voice that showed the thought surprised even him. "I do not like to see Erebor hurt in this manner, it disturbs me in a way that I never would have expected."

Stay. Without Kili as a bond of blood to hold the elf to this distinctly Dwarven kingdom? Confused, Fili watched the gray-eyed warrior quietly as he continued.

"I …feel torn."

Fili shook his head, and though the ache was lessening, the elf's words were only stirring up the confusion. "Go. With your twin brother and your nephew. What could you possibly be feeling torn about?" Him. Fili blinked, his blue eyes almost challenging. "He will need you."

"He will have two wizards and an elf with strong martial skills. He will have my brother, weakened though he is, who is no slumber-bug when it comes to fighting. And Master Dwalin, of course." Elrohir bowed.

Fili grinned. "Travelling light are they?" He mocked.

"Not as light as they might want." The tall elf lord said suddenly, giving a larger smile, one filled with hints at secret knowledge.

Fili's eyes sparked and he straightened. "Oh?"

Elrohir shook his head, refusing to answer. "I owe you an apology."

Silence stretched between the two males of differing races and ages. A silence taut with unspoken words and feelings, past hurts, and unquiet things.

"You owe me nothing." Fili's voice was raspy and sounded like it had dropped an octave. He cleared his throat uneasily.

"I left you with her, for a very long time."

Fili held his breath for a second and then shook his head, his eyes wide with deep emotions he had yet to examine closely. "She is my mother, of course you did. You weren't even the one married to her, what were you supposed to do?" He asked in a rush. "Make war?"

Elrohir stared at him and Fili looked away and shook his head again. "If you'd taken a dwarrow prince from the Line of Durin? Oh by the Maker." He rubbed his face vigorously and then stared at the elf standing before him over the tips of his fingers, speaking from behind his palms. "I couldn't have been that sweet or cute." He tried to make light of the moment.

Elrohir cocked his head to one side, frowning deeply as he glared at the young prince. Fili winced and slid his own gaze away a bit sheepishly. "I rode through Rivendell on my way to fight a death-dealing menace on wings with a fire fetish to rival a volcano."

The elf nodded slowly, his eyelids coming down slowly as he spoke. "We rode across the country to rescue Kuilaith. Not you. He is a child by our reckoning, or so we thought at the time. You? I had faced the fact that you were gone years before. To grow up in your proper place, with your real family, and …I'd let you go. You are a full grown Dwarven prince. An adult."

"I'm not that same dwarfling."

"Hardly." Elrohir snorted. "I can't offer to be your uncle as if you were still a child. But I can offer my friendship to a Dwarf I find that I respect, and am proud to know."

Fili stared and then smiled ruefully even as he shook his head yet again. "Why? I mean, what have I shown you, or ANYONE, that would make you so proud?"

Elrohir's eyebrow cocked upwards and he smiled. "You followed your uncle across country to face almost certain death. You turned away from no challenge that orcs, or goblins, or eagles, or Mordor itself put in your way."

Fili sighed. "Yes, well I wasn't alone …"

"Not done." Elrohir frowned. "Your mother should have taught you never to interrupt your elders."

"Elves are all elder. Except Kili." The blond groused, then fell silent with a smirk as the elf lord before him sent him a glare.

"You have never lived here, but you take charge of many different parts of life here and you listen, you learn, and yet you still lead despite it all being new to you." Fili shifted his weight on his feet, but did not interrupt again. "You are interested in real truth, and not just forgiving someone because they raised you. You are interested in fairness and yet you love with your whole heart."

Fili opened his mouth, but found he didn't know quite how to respond.

"You are clever, and yet not so sold on your own cleverness that you don't pay attention to the opinions of others. You are strong and fun spirited, you are loyal and brave and …"

"And you are long-winded." Fili cut off the elf with his face blushing hotter than he'd like. Though he didn't sound angry. "So. What exactly are you apologizing for?"

"I'm leaving. I'm going with your brother though I have not told him, not yet."

Fili nodded, not surprised, and yet stunned that the elf thought it would be. "Why exactly does that require an apology?" He asked rather snottily to hide his confusion.

"Because I don't want you to think that I'm leaving you. Again. Not permanently."

"Oh." Fili blinked, swallowing hard at the earnestness in the elf's voice. "I understand. Kili will be out and about, exposed. I will be here, protected. I would rather you be with him, especially since I can't be there."

"You are family, again." Elrohir told him in a deliberate manner. "I do not see you as lesser in any way, and I would stay if I could."

Fili growled, not feeling comfortable in the roiling emotions this conversation had brought up within him. Yet, strangely, he felt he could breathe a bit easier too. That something tight within him had loosened a bit. "Bring him, both of them I suppose, back here. Soon."

"As soon as Erebor is defensible again." Vowed Elrohir.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili went in search of Thorin or Kili. Either one. Erelinde. If his mind went to the beautiful dam he pulled it ruthlessly back. He didn't need comfort, he needed to discuss Kili's "plan" to leave Erebor. Alright. He understood. But he wanted to know where his brother was going.

Kili said he'd discuss that with only Galadriel and Thorin. Fine. He scowled, on the hunt for the king. No way was he going to chase down the Golden Lady nor would he be getting the information he wanted from her, he was pretty damned sure.

Following what he'd heard, he headed outside. Something about a ceremony for the fallen. Fili frowned darkly. What ceremony, and why hadn't he been informed? They'd already sung their dead into the Halls of the Waiting.

Fili paused at the site of the destruction of the stables. One of his eyes twitched at the fallen stones and evidence of Saruman's treachery. He clamped his teeth together and would have called to one of the workers except he caught sight of a gathering further afield.

The blond prince even caught a glimpse of Erelinde's white-blond hair. What ceremony was this?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Are we supposed to sing?" Dwalin asked in a rumbling half-whisper as he leaned toward the king's side.

Thorin shot him a side-ways glare to shut up, and then looked back at the goings on.

"Well? Are we?" Nori leaned in from the other side.

Thorin sighed and fought not to roll his eyes. He needed Balin here. The white-haired counselor would know the proper words to say. But that esteemed dwarrow was getting some well-deserved rest. Finally.

"They were rabbits, Thorin." Dwalin sounded utterly mystified, as if a funeral for a beast was somehow personally insulting to him.

"Couldn't we have buried them in a cook-pot?" Nori asked from the other side of him.

Gandalf turned, though he should be too far away to hear their words. Still, both dwarves finally closed their mouths. The tall wizard gave them a chiding, and yet strangely amused look.

Thorin frowned, watching as Radagast the Brown bustled from one small mound to the next as he uttered final parting words to each of his beloved rabbits. Thorin smirked. Rabbits.

Nori leaned in again and the king cut him off. "What exactly are you doing here? I thought we were supposed to be fighting?" Thorin asked him, while looking around to see who else was at this strange tableau.

Arwen was next to Gandalf, and bless the lass she was actually dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. He wondered if her emotions were for the fallen rabbits, or for the very real grief of the wizard? Thorin cleared his throat uneasily, recalling how the strange fellow had been openly weeping during his initial speech. How he himself had felt sorrow at the affecting words. Not that he'd ever admit to it aloud, of course. Rabbits.

"He called them victims of Sauron." Dwalin leaned in again, clearly bemused and almost angry about it too.

Thorin turned to glare at his bald-headed friend and cousin, gritting his teeth.

Dwalin shrugged. "Ahriline was a victim. The guards were victims. Rabbits are ….well, it's a sorry thing to kill mounts. I'll admit."

Nori nodded looking confused too. "Strategically sound, but sorry as an aged cow's teats."

Thorin winced at the colorful language, turning away from one dwarrow to glare at the other. Nori pulled an exaggerated face and mimed the appendages he'd mentioned hanging down to the ground. The king sighed in disgust.

"Well. Really."

The all turned to look at Radagast, who was openly weeping, and staring at them. While weeping. Wiping his face with a cloth of suspicious cleanliness.

"Look at you all. Come to me in my despair." Radagast threw open his arms. "You do me too much an honor, too much!"

Nori, Dwalin and Thorin all startled, ready to jump back lest the wizard tried to embrace them.

The other dwarrow around them were all murmuring, but the king and his companions were afraid to look around.

"Come, come, pay your respects my friends!" Radagast burbled and blew his nose most loudly, stepping aside for mourners to approach.

Dwalin ground his teeth together. Thorin didn't have to look to know this, he could hear it. Nori slid away. One moment there, then vanished. The king muttered a curse even as he shook his head at the red-head's slippery ways.

"Uhm. Well, yes. This has been …nice." Thorin stumbled, unsure how he'd been pulled outside for this in the first place. Arwen. It was Lady Arwen's fault. She'd caught him between messengers and explained that there was a ceremony outside for the fallen. Fallen. Heh. He slid his gaze over to the elf lass in question, and found her staring in amazement. At his feet.

Thorin glanced down, then frowned. Rabbits. Large rabbits. "Don't move, Dwalin."

The bald warrior followed his king's gaze and caught his breath. The rabbits were large, about two feet long, and …they ….were …paying attention to Radagast's words? Was that even possible? "What is this?"

"Rhosgobel rabbits." The Brown Wizard said a bit snottily, as if Thorin should have known that. "They came to replace the …the …deceased." He whispered the last word and began weeping copiously again.

Thorin winced at the sight while Dwalin sighed heavily, crossing his arms almost defensively.

The wizard sobbed a moment, struggling to catch his breath, then waved his unsavory handkerchief at the king. "Are you ready to do your speeches?"

"My?" Thorin's eyes widened sharply and he shook his head. Oh no, this was not going to work.

"Uncle?"

The king looked up and smiled at Fili's approach. That smile broadened. "Head's up." He whispered. Dwalin gave him his full attention. Thorin waited until his sister-son got closer. "Good, good. Uhm. You're in charge."

Fili blinked, looking around, and then down. His eyebrows rose and he looked at his uncle in question.

"Prince Fili. Crown Prince Fili." Thorin stressed, putting his hand on his heir's shoulder. "I leave you in charge of this ceremony and a representative of the crown."

Dwalin immediately smirked and fell into step with the king as he walked away.

Fili looked around, finding nearly every eye turned his way. "What ceremony? What am I doing?"

"Being a prince. Protocol. Officiating. Representing." Thorin called back to him as the trio of dwarves headed back toward the entrance to Erebor.

Fili turned around and nearly stumbled back as a rabbit hopped over his left boot, just as Radagast approached him. "Do you have a speech to give as well?"

Speech? Fili's blue eyes looked beyond the brown wizard to find Gandalf nodding toward him, and gesturing toward small burial mounds. He glanced back at Radagast's hopeful, and tear-stained face, dirt tracks interrupted by large tear drops. "I didn't know each of your rabbits by name, any of them, actually." He fought not to wince.

Radagast's lips trembled and he caught the prince around the arm, dragging him to the first mound. "This would be Jerome. He was the lead rabbit, so to speak. Fathered most the others." He leaned in and whispered. "And not all with the same dam, but rabbits don't be minding that as much as other races. But best not to mention Beatrix or Petra in the same breath."

Fili felt the wizard pat his arm and looked around in stunned wonder. Arwen pressed a handkerchief to her face and he realized she was smiling through her tears. Erelinde was next to the she-elf, her eyes wide and saddened, but there was a suspicious tilt to her lips as well.

Fili stood up straight, pulling on his leathers, his blue eyes flashing with temper. "Jerome. Was a fine large rabbit, with fecund ways. Very fertile was Jerome, and quite handsome." Probably handsome. For a rabbit.

"Brave too." Radagast muttered.

"Yes. Quite brave, leading the other rabbits in the sled traces." Fili made up the words on the spot. "Lovely chap. He loved his …food, did Jerome."

Radagast nodded stronger, nearly bubbling with fresh tears. An actual wail escaped him. Bravely Fili patted the wizard on the back. Until Radagast pointed to the next mound.

Fili clenched his teeth and smiled wider. Gandalf leaned in to be helpful. "Farland."

"Yes, yes. This is the final resting place for brave Farland." Fili began, but then caught the frown of Radagast. "Though not as brave as Jerome, of course." The wizard's frown smoothed away.

Fili's headache returned with full force as he looked down the line of burial mounds. Thorin owed him for this. Oh yes.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili's hands were shaking by the time he could escape the clutches of the Brown Wizard. He needed to find Thorin, Kili, and a lot of ale. Not necessarily in that order.

He got to a table and opened the keg tap. A weak stream of ale trickled out, to form perhaps a half-inch of weak amber liquid at the bottom of his scrounged mug. Fili growled, drank it and looked around for another keg. He marched over to another table, waiting his turn behind the others.

"Turnips? What do I want with a drawing of a bowl of turnips?"

Fili turned and then lost some of the tension he was carrying in his shoulders. Poor Grimbasher looked horrified and red in the face as he held up a drawing that someone had obviously gifted him.

"You sang about them."

"For hours."

Fili smiled and shook his head. He'd not heard the turnip song, but Kili had told him about it last night. He advanced in line, but as he did so he caught a glimpse of Kili heading up the stairs on the opposite side of the room.

The blond scowled at his mug, the line, the teasing dwarrow gathered around Grimbasher, and then after his brother. "Here." He pressed gave up ownership of the mug to another in line and hurried after Kili.

The crowd seemed to be against him, as dwarf after dwarf tried to stop him or talk to him. Some with genuine gratitude that he'd been rescued, but several wanting to jibe him about his "funeral" speeches. For each and every rabbit lost.

Fili disengaged himself the best he could, chasing after Kili who had a fairly decent head start. The blond raced down the hallway, but found himself out of breath sooner than he'd like. His chest wound ached some but mostly it was his head pounding. Still, he didn't let it slow him down.

No. What stopped him cold was his mother. Dis stepped up to him and he slowed and stopped. "Mam. I'm ….trying to catch up to Kili." He said weakly, knowing his brother had already moved off.

Dis nodded, looking around, though not spotting her other son. "Kili is exactly whom I want to discuss with you."

Fili sighed, nodding. He just couldn't seem to catch a break today. "Let's go back to the main hall and get something to eat and drink." He could really use it.

Dis frowned and him. "Water for you, I think. You look peaked still." She said, her words spaced very firmly and deliberately.

Fili blinked slowly and decided to go along. It just wasn't worth the effort of a fight. He knew his mam meant what she said when she used that tone of voice.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili walked into his room cursing, throwing a mug across the room, feeling a tangible thrill when the earthenware shattered completely.

Erelinde jumped and spun, staring at him with widened blue eyes.

Fili stopped, staring. "I …didn't know you were in here." He muttered lamely.

The dwarrowdam nodded mutely, though her eyes were still a bit too wide. Fili sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, it's just been a very strange day. I need some good news. Anything."

Erelinde relaxed a bit, despite the gruffness of his voice. "Your mother came and asked me to bring this to you."

"My mam?" Fili shook his head, wondering what it could possibly be since Dis had kept him tied up most of the afternoon wanting to be in on the plans to rebuild Erebor swiftly all so that Kili could come home sooner. His brother hadn't even left yet! "She didn't mention anything."

"Your father's fiddle." Erelinde pointed at a case on the bed he'd been using.

Fili stilled, blinked, and then smiled. Softly. He reached out touching the case with an almost sense of awe. Nehili's violin. He glanced up at Erelinde. "Thank you."

"Your mam, she's the one who brought it to you. I'm just delivering."

Fili understood more than the sweet dam at his side did, apparently. Dis' giving over of the fiddle to Erelinde to deliver was a sign of approval. Acceptance. "She likes you."

Erelinde blew out a rough breath and shook her head. "I don't believe so."

"Well, she will. And she's giving you a chance." Fili amended gently. Running the roughened pads of his fingers over the smooth case. "Letting it be you who brought it to me. She may never say it aloud, but it's there."

Erelinde watched him carefully, a small smile on her lips. "If you think so, I will as well." She then reached out and pushed the case closer to him. "I was very proud of you today."

"It's my day to make people proud." Fili responded with deep sarcasm, recalling his earlier conversation with Elrohir. "What was it? My deep understanding of rabbits and their ways? Was it when I knew that Flouncer had a love of parsley? Because I'll tell you, I cheated. Gandalf mouthed the words to me."

The dam laughed, warming him up from the inside. "Hardly. It was the fact that you went through with any of the speeches. For any of those rabbits. Radagast was genuinely torn up about their loss. And you comforted him."

Fili looked away from her, a bit embarrassed. "I will get retribution on Thorin for leaving me in that position."

"You were very sweet."

"Will that get me a kiss?" Fili looked at her hopefully, delighted to see her face flush and her eyes drop.

Erelinde pointed to a small table that hadn't been there earlier when he'd left. It held some folded clothing. "You found me something to wear."

"Your clothing, actually. What I could gather and clean."

Fili looked back at her and smiled widely. "You're not even wearing my beads. Yet." He teased her.

The white-blond beauty flushed hotter, but she was smiling at him at least. "You're a prince of this place. You can't go around looking like a mean beggar."

"So. It was your civic duty to clean my clothes?" He shook his head at her all while grinning.

"Indeed it is. And mending what I could." She added. "The lavender in the soap though, that was just for you."

Lavender? Fili's eyebrows rose and he laughed. "I'm going to smell like a dwarrowdam's closet?"

"No." She laughed back at him. "My closet smells of rose water. Or it did before Sauron got through with it, apparently."

"Then what smells of lavender?" He asked, then grinned. "You do. It's your soap."

Erelinde shrugged lightly. "I found some when I was trying to go through my room earlier, scavenge what I could." She pointed to a basket on the floor next to his bed.

Fili knelt down, poking through the odds and ends, frowning. "Not much, I'm so sorry."

Erelinde laughed and shook her head. "No, I laundered what clothes I could find and they're in the room I'm staying in now. These are just some sundry keepsakes and what-nots."

"Ah." Fili held up her pin cushion, the one her mother had made for her so long ago. It was dusty and there was a tear along one side. "Surely you could make a finer one?"

"My mam made that one for me." She told him, watching as he nodded and held it more carefully, as if it were suddenly precious to him as well. "I think I can repair it."

"Good." Fili pulled out a handkerchief with some rather lopsided embroidery. "Yours?"

"We all have to start somewhere." Erelinde made a face at him. "I didn't start out with perfect stitching skills."

Fili picked up a book and looked at her, when she nodded he read the title and nodded. "I had this same one." He told her.

"My father traded for that one, just for me."

The blond laughed and shook his head. "I should say I had access to the same one. It was Thorin's." He frowned. "No. Frerin's, I think. Before he went to Wait." He thought about the small cabin he'd grown up in, and how there were always books around. Always something to study.

Fili reached for a heavy glass paperweight with three buttons in the center, saving them forever. He grinned and looked at Erelinde.

"A gift from Ognar actually." The dam smiled at him.

Fili blinked, not recognizing the name. "Who?"

"Of the Alegrips. You've met him, he works with my father. Brown beard with leather strips here and here." She mimed imaginary lines in a criss-cross pattern in front of her chest, as if on a male's beard.

"What?" Fili stood, staring dumbly at the object in his hand. It was a paperweight. Glass. He'd made several of them as a youngster when he'd been with the glass blowers. He frowned. He'd been with Thorin, touring the various crafters in town. "He's a miner, right?"

"He is now. But his father was a journeyman in the glass workers craft." Erelinde said, her lips lowering as she realized that Fili himself was no longer smiling with her. "It's an old keepsake. That's all. He knew my …."

"Did he ever court you?" Fili interrupted, his fingers tightening around the object.

Erelinde lifted her chin and stared at him. "Why?"

"You keep things that mean something to you. From your mam or da, but this?" He tossed the glass weight in his hand and frowned as she startled, reaching toward it as if afraid it might fall. "Ognar."

"You see my empty braids. I've not wanted to wed. You knew that."

He did know that. But. But, she was looking worried. About this …thing. It held meaning to her. "Did he try and court you?" He couldn't help if his voice sounded sharp.

Erelinde straightened up, her sky-blue eyes staring at him. "Yes. But I turned him down."

"You kept this!" He snapped.

"Because the buttons belonged to my younger brother. Ognar made that for me thirty years before he decided he wanted to court me. It was not a courtship present. It was a remembrance of his best friend, and my br …brother." Her voice broke a little on the last word, unshed tears in her eyes.

Fili's heart broke a little at that moment too, as he closed his eyes at the pain he saw reflected back to him. "I'm sorry."

"Yes. Well. I will see you on the morrow." Erelinde said coolly and when he opened his eyes she was holding out her hand.

Fili put the paperweight in her outstretched palm with one hand, and with the other captured her wrist. "I was being a jealous fool." He told her quietly.

Erelinde stared at him for a long moment, but then nodded at him. He could see she wasn't quite as angry as before, though she was still holding herself rather tightly. "Aren't you going to ask if I have any other keepsakes from possible suitors?"

"No." Fili smiled at her, though he had to force it a bit. "No. I was being a fool and I don't intend to continue. I know better, it's just been …it's been a really rough day."

Erelinde softened some more, and she nodded at him. "I will see you on the morrow." She told him, her voice more gentle this time.

Fili picked up her basket and handed it to her with a gallant bow. He offered to escort her to her rooms, and slowly, as if unsure, she did allow it.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili scooted over as Fili dropped down onto the bench next to him. The blond wondered grudgingly if it was to make room for him, or to move closer to the red-haired elf sitting on his other side.

He probably didn't want to know.

"Bad day?" Glorfindel lowered his wine glass, looking at the crown prince.

"My head hearts. I gave speeches at seven funerals. For rabbits." If he heard one snicker he was going to pull steel on someone. "And I seriously almost messed up with Erelinde." He didn't mention his conversation with Elrohir. That was, private. "And mam cornered me. She wants to be involved in rebuilding Erebor. Every single stone."

Everyone chuckled, and Glorfindel raised his glass to the young prince.

Fili would have glared at him, but didn't have the energy. Instead he sighed. "No bubbles?"

"Not today. Today is a rich fine red though." The golden haired elf mentioned, taking a sip. "It's companions were smashed, but I was able to salvage it."

"You helped clean up in the wine cellars?" Fili asked, then groaned. "Of course you did."

Glorfindel took another sip and nodded. "It was a dirty job. Tedious."

"How many bottles did you liberate?" Kili asked, a smile in his voice.

"Hmmm?" Glorfindel cupped his hand to his ear. "Perhaps I should borrow Oin's horn. I didn't quite catch that."

Everyone chuckled, even Fili.

"Is Erelinde alright?" Tauriel asked, though she did not appear alarmed.

Fili eyed the she-elf who was nibbling on a piece of bread, her hands still bandaged. He looked up at the spectacular bruising around her eye. "Her wounds don't show." He groaned. "She has a keepsake, from a former suitor. Only he wasn't a suitor when he gave it to her, but a family friend."

The others simply looked at him, mystified.

Glorfindel finally nodded and turned to Tauriel. "Do you have any gifts from any males that you've kept?"

The she-elf blinked her eyes at him and then nodded.

Kili straightened up, staring. Tauriel pulled off a dagger from her belt and put it on the table. "The sheath."

The dark haired prince at her side stared and Fili shook his head. "Trust me. It's not worth it. Tauriel loves you and wears your beads. Let it be."

Kili looked at the sheath and then up at Tauriel's nashatal braid and shrugged. "Legolas?"

She nodded, waiting to see how he'd react.

Kili's face split into a grin. "He's got good taste."

A moan escaped Fili as his head dropped to the table. The sound of a glass being pushed his way brought his eyes up. He saw the wine bottle and Glorifindel holding out a cracked wine glass. He lifted an eyebrow.

"It still holds wine, just don't drink from the broken side or you'll cut your lip." The elf advised.

Fili groaned and nodded, reaching for the glass as Glorfindel to fill. He wondered idly if anyone was having a worse day than he. Grimly he sat up, lifting his glass. "To Saruman, wherever he is, let's hope he's having the worst day of his life."

Everyone lifted their mismatched mugs and glasses, echoing the sentiment.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman writhed in pain upon the floor before the palantir. He'd dropped to the floor, but his hand was still upstretched toward the great stone as if held there by chains. Or Sauron.

The wizard opened his mouth and screeched in pain.

None of the Rohirrim in the room made any move or signal that they noticed anything wrong. They were too deeply under the pall of Saruman's control.

Bones broke, one by one from the smallest to the largest, within the wizard's body as Sauron made known his displeasure in his servant.


	61. In which Tauriel receives a gift

Tauriel looked up as she sensed someone approaching. Balin had his usual stack of paperwork in his hands along with several parchments rolls precariously held squeezed between his chest and his arm. She wondered what he was bringing to her. For he was ignoring all others and heading straight to her side.

The redoubtable dwarf beamed at her as he stopped next to her table and the she-elf moved her half-full tea mug and the boots she'd been working on. She waved a hand in invitation at the bench beside her.

"Getting them ready?" Balin pointed at the boots as he accepted her silent gesture to sit, putting his stack of papers down and pulling out one or two from the pile.

"I am." Tauriel replied, testing the strength of the leathers. The boots weren't that old, but she wanted to make sure there were no weak spots before beginning her journey.

"Ye take with you someone we care a lot about, lass." Balin told her, his voice gentle and almost apologetic.

"And you want to make sure that I have enough weapons, supplies, medicines, and am aware of all that this trek might require." Tauriel continued for him, and as he raised his rather bushy eyebrows she smiled. "You're not the first to stop by and see me this day."

"Ah." Balin nodded in immediate understanding. "Do we make nuisances of ourselves? I apologize."

"No such apology is necessary." Tauriel reassured him. "Just be aware that Fili has already gifted me with four new daggers. He went so far as to test the grips to make sure they fit my hands well." She held up her appendages and Balin noticed the thick bandages were gone.

"Ah lass." The white-bearded dwarrow sounded sorrowful as he eyed the still healing redness that was the new skin on her palms. "You heal fast, but that looks painful."

Tauriel smiled gamely at him. "Brunere has already brought by a salve, and it does help."

Balin perked up, then twitched his lips. "Was she alone?" He asked leadingly.

The she-elf looked at him with calm green eyes. "Gossip?"

The dwarrow shrugged without remorse. "How did Bofur look?"

Those green eyes lit up a bit as the she-elf gave in with a small smile. "Better than the last time I saw him. Apparently King Thorin hasn't allowed him back down into the mines, not until the healers say it is alright." She paused, then shook her head minutely. "He brought some items that will be 'essential' on our journey."

"All of which you already have?" Balin guessed.

Tauriel did not deny the charge. "It was quite sweet of him. Bombur found some dried meats and has put them aside for travel rations as well."

The white-bearded dwarrow chuckled, feeling far more at ease with this she-elf than he ever would have credited even a month ago. "No one else?"

"King Thorin wanted to know if I wanted to try any of the armor in the treasury." Tauriel said, an almost question in her voice.

"A generous offer." Balin said, nodding in approval, a gleam in his eye as he winked at her. "Though I am unsure any would fit."

Tauriel shrugged lightly. "I hope I did not damage our …I hope it was not in bad odor to turn down the offer. I feel it would be poor strategy to begin a dangerous endeavor wearing items that I am unfamiliar with and unused to using."

Thinking it over, Balin looked off toward where the king was meeting with the heads of the work details. "His temper has not been unusual, so I would think that you are on solid ground."

"I did accept a blade from him." She said, meaning the king.

Balin grinned, shaking his head. "Then I won't bother with my own offer of further blades." He pushed a sheet of parchment over toward her. "Though organization is important, and I know you have never travelled farther than the borders of the Mirkwood?"

It was both a statement and a question. Tauriel nodded in answer, running her eyes over the lists as she smiled. "You are thorough."

"You will be travelling in unknown areas, in winter, with Mordor awake." Balin pushed some more parchment rolls toward her. "Maps."

Tauriel accepted the parchments gratefully, stopping only as Balin's hand covered her own. She looked up in surprise, seeing a genuine caring in his expressive gaze. "It's not only Kili we want to come back whole and safe, lass."

"I'm not exactly the dwarrowdam you would have chosen for him." Tauriel teased, only half-in jest.

"Perhaps." Balin freed her hand, though he was still smiling at her. "But …to quote the third Durin …There is nothing so blind as a focused miner." At Tauriel's carefully blank expression, he grinned. "When you look too hard for what you expect to find, you miss the possibilities of something better. In other words, if you stop to admire the cape ruby you found, then you'll miss the diamond."

Tauriel blinked, still unsure. "I like rubies." She said cautiously, recalling the one Kili had shown her once.

Balin laughed at her, but not cruelly, more like a doting grandparent might. "Ah lass, cape rubies aren't the same as real rubies. They're red gems, but that's as close as the comparison goes. It's like finding fool's gold and thinking you're rich."

Tauriel looked around at the stone around her, as if judging the mighty weight of not only the mountain, but Dwarvish history. "I have a lot to learn."

Balin stood, giving her a respectful bow. "Then it's a good thing you're ageless, now isn't it?" He stood up, making room for the approaching dwarrow with a smile. "You'll learn, and we'll learn." His fingers went to her hair and barely brushed the nashatal braid she wore. "Don't worry, you're not a cape ruby or fool's gold and Kili is a lucky dwarf. And we'll all be learning together."

Tauriel nodded, even as Ori stopped in front of her table, grinning from ear to ear.

Balin clapped the younger dwarrow on the shoulder. "She doesn't need any more weapons, laddie."

Ori held up some knitted gloves with a smile. "She needs to protect her hands!"

Tauriel sat back, bemused and oddly flattered. Ori's gift wasn't something to help her protect Kili. It was something just for her, from a friend. "Sit, please."

Ori slid onto the bench, chattering about the tightness of the stitches to protect her newly healing skin from the cold of the mountains.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

It was later in the afternoon that Tauriel paused in rolling up one of the maps Balin had given her. She could hear footsteps approaching the door to the small room, though she was not alarmed. The quality of the sound was such that she knew the person approaching wasn't trying to be sneaky. When the footsteps slowed and then stopped, she noted it, but did not think too hard on the matter. There were others out in the hallway, and other rooms as well. A scuff of a boot on the stone floor, the creak of wood on the door, all told her someone was coming. But the door did not open.

This is when the she-elf turned her head toward the doorway, several hundred years of caution as a guard captain had her at the ready and yet she would still appear relaxed to the casual observer.

"Something wrong, love?"

Tauriel's lips quirked upwards. Kili wasn't a casual observer. Even though his attention wasn't on her, he'd still sensed the small change within her. "Someone isn't sure they want to visit." She responded quietly.

Kili turned away from speaking with his father, looking first at his red-haired lodestone, and then toward the door. He might have asked another question, but Tauriel had already risen and moved silently in that direction.

Kili looked back down at his father, whose eyes had drifted closed once again. Elladan had been in and out of it for several hours now. At least he was making more sense now.

Tauriel opened the door, and which female was more surprised to see the other was anyone's guess. It was almost humorous to watch. Kili's dark eyes widened and he had to look away quickly, not wanting either one to see him grinning.

Tauriel and Dis stared at each other for a moment before the older dwarrowdam cleared her throat.

"Kili? Your mam is looking for you."

Dis' spine was as straight as iron as she shook her head, causing the she-elf to stop speaking. As if Tauriel could not fathom a reason for the dwarrowdam to be in this particular room for any other reason than to locate her son.

"Thorin and Gandalf are looking for you." Dis said, whispering, as she looked at the sleeping elf on the bed with an unreadable expression.

Kili nodded, yet hesitated, looking back at his father. He really wanted to stay with him. It had been such a relief to be able to speak with his father, even though the elf was still a bit groggy.

"I will stay with him." Tauriel offered, with Kili sending her a grateful look. "Nuluin won't be gone long."

"No. You're probably needed as well, I ….I can stay with him." Dis made the offer as if unsure of her own words, though at her son's wild glance she nodded at him. She made a face at his shocked look. "I am capable of sitting next to someone healing."

Someone? This wasn't just someone, not to Dis. Yet no one really wanted to bring up that subject, not right now. Kili and Tauriel exchanged glances and slowly they began to move toward the door. The dark-eyed prince hesitated as he moved up next to his mother.

"Go." Dis urged him, a wry chuckle escaping her. "I promise not to finish what that damned wizard started."

Kili blinked and then blushed hotly. He mumbled something and ducked his head as he headed out the door. Embarrassed that his mother had sensed his reluctance to leave her alone with Elladan. Not that he suspected she'd hurt him, it just all seemed so awkward.

Tauriel lingered a moment further, her eyes moving to neither Elladan nor Kili. Dis met the green-eyed gaze head on, lifting her chin proudly. "Go." She repeated herself, this time to the braid-wearing elf.

The red-head nodded with deliberate slowness, then moved gracefully down the hallway following Kili.

Dis turned and shut the door, pressing the palm of her hand against the smooth wood that had now survived both dragon occupation and wizarding destruction. "I am stone." She whispered to herself before turning to stare at the male elf still out of it, asleep.

Dis moved closer, standing over the bed rather than taking a seat in one of the empty chairs. Dispassionately she watched Elladan breathe. In and out, over and over again. So peaceful looking.

This elf. She snorted lightly. He was her husband. How terribly strange. His face was almost unknown to her, despite having been wed to him. For four months. Nearly eighty years ago.

"Someone should write a story about it." She told her, her …what was he to her? Husband? Barely. Father of her child? Yes. "Why did you do it?" She asked, though not entirely sure of what she asked.

"Why did you marry me? Why did you not follow? Why are you now here? Why does my son look at you? Why …why did you sacrifice yourself for him?" Dis flapped her arms against her sides, unsure.

The elf lord moved, slightly. A grimace crossed his face and then was quickly gone. Dis stopped breathing for a moment, but Elladan didn't wake. She waited, but nothing else happened. She made a grimace of her own at that point, feeling foolish.

"Yes, yes. You could ask me the same things. Why did I marry you? Why did I leave? Why didn't I tell my family? Why didn't I tell you?"

Dis looked up at the ceiling, and then back down. She startled and nearly jumped out of her skin. Light-gray eyes were staring up at her. Yet he said nothing. In fact, he looked rather blank.

Dis let out a choking sound and sighed. "Yes. Now that is the husband I remember."

His head turned toward her voice, though it took several seconds before his eyes seemed to focus upon her. Recognition took even longer. Elladan blinked several times, then frowned sharply and with no little alarm.

Reacting to the panic she'd glimpsed, Dis pushed Elladan back down onto his back when he started to struggle to stand. "He's fine, he's fine, you saved him, everyone is safe." Dis told him, having to repeat herself several times before the elf seemed to grasp her words and start to relax, his breathing slowing.

Elladan groaned and reached a hand toward his eyes, then his mouth, frowning in visible confusion.

Dis thought about yelling for one of the healers, but she didn't. Without questioning her own motives she poured some of the water in the pitcher next to the bed onto a clean cloth. She helped Elladan wash his face, making sure she let some of the moisture soak onto his lips and mouth first.

"Do you need to use the chamber pot?" Dis asked almost brusquely.

Elladan's gray eyes slid toward her face in a questioning, and rather shocked, look.

The dwarrowdam gave him a rather forced smile. "It's not the first time I've tended battle wounds. Nor is it the first time I've ever assisted you though admittedly not to this extent."

The elf stared at her, uncomprehending at first, then he sucked in a harsh breath and shook his head. "Sorry." He muttered, his voice hoarse.

Dis sighed and nodded. "I know." She shook her head grimly. "Looking back realistically, I was only marginally better off than you were at the time. Back then." When they'd been married.

Elladan grunted and shook his head, as if he did not quite agree with her. At least he seemed to be following along with the conversation. He struggled to sit up in bed, and pushed her hands away as she tried to offer help.

Dis backed off, watching the struggle coolly. The elf was shaking a bit when he finished, but he was actually sitting up, propped up against the wall behind the head of the bed. He looked at her, catching her watching him. He frowned. "I cannot be him again." He said.

Dis started, then nodded, understanding without further explanation. He didn't want to sink back into his depression and lethargy. He no longer was the elf who'd wanted to fade. And she could think of one major reason. "Kili."

"Kuilaith." He said carefully, watching her reaction.

The dwarrowdam flinched only barely at the sound of her son's Elvish name. "You saved his life." She said, almost as if apologizing for her reaction.

Elladan knew most of what had happened, he'd known since he'd awakened, but so much seemed so hazy that he had to ask. "He is well? Truly well?" Making sure that his son's life was a reality, and not a product of his unconscious mind.

"He is truly, truly well and whole. Speaking of taking you on a journey, away from Erebor. To heal."

The tall elf, in the process of moving each hand and arm cautiously, froze. His gray eyes moved back to the dwarvish princess he'd married, his hands dropping back down into his lap. "No."

Dis laughed, actually laughed, looking everywhere but at her husband's gaze. "I actually agree with him on this one." When the male didn't answer she finally turned back to look at him. He was staring at her. "You heard me."

"Hearing and understanding are not always in equal proportion." Elladan licked his lips, finding his mouth dry.

Without being asked, Dis moved to pour him a small cup of clear spring water from the pitcher. "Erebor is in ruins."

Elladan shook his head, froze as he tensed up as if in pain. Slowly he let his muscles relax but he didn't shake his head again.

Dis pushed the cup into his hands, wrapping his palm around the offering as she spoke with more assurance than she really felt. "You were knocked out. Nearly dead. You missed Sauron trying to pull the entirety of the mountain down around us all."

Elladan held the cup of water, but did not drink. "I believe my father and brother have told me some of this." He sighed. "How long have I been so dazed?"

"Not long." Dis shrugged off the question. "Considering the blow you took, I am amazed you survived at all. That any of us survived, actually."

"Then it is important that we stick together." Elladan said quietly.

Dis cracked a smile and sighed, sitting down in one of the chairs as she eyed the elf she'd married. "How things are turning on their heads. Here you are the one wanting Kili to stay in Erebor, and I the one wanting him to go to Rivendell."

"Imladris?"

Shrugging, Dis shrugged. "Lothlorien. Somewhere safe. Safer at least. Erebor's defenses are low right now, in desperate need to be rebuilt. And Kili is right, Mordor's eyes will be on him."

"Ah." Elladan's eyes closed, and it looked like there was some effort involved in opening them again as he turned to look at her. "If Kuilaith needs to be hidden away, then I don't need to be slowing him down."

Dis stared at the elf and slowly, deliberately, shook her head. "Kili wants to take you somewhere with light, somewhere you can heal. I …" Here she paused, as if making some giant effort of her own. "I know you would protect him. I know he will be safer with you, even wounded and healing."

Elladan stared at her, not as if he didn't understand, but as if weighing her determination. Dis' chin lifted stubbornly.

"We …we can't start over." Dis finally broke the silence between them. "And while we are still married, I do not feel so tied."

"Nor I." He admitted evenly.

"There is no love between us." The dwarrowdam continued. "There never was."

"No." Elladan agreed. "Should I apologize for that?"

"No, nor should I." Dis sighed heavily as she shrugged. "Galadriel told everyone that basically you and I were forced into this in order to tear the elves and dwarves apart. End any alliance before it could begin."

Surprised, the elf nodded in understanding. "Kuilaith put forth that theory awhile back. I did not credit it enough."

"I forced you." She bit the words out, and at his shocked look of consternation she waved a hand at him. "I initiated all physical contact, and whether under the influence of spells, drugs, or a combination it doesn't change what happened."

"It makes you even more the victim." Elladan said with true sorrow in his voice, and in his eyes.

"I think …" Dis started, stopped, and then sighed. "I think that when I decided to run back home was the first time I came to myself for any length of time during that whole period."

"Taking Kili and Fili both with you."

Dis startled, then grimaced. "I've told you before. I did not know of the pregnancy before I took my leave."

Elladan stared at her, hearing the words, and for the first time truly believing her. He nodded carefully.

The dwarrowdam shivered as she recalled the events of long past, then cast her eyes in every direction but at him. Still, she was no coward. Her back stiffened and she turned her gaze directly to his own. "Not telling you about the pregnancy when I did discover it, that was not on any spell, coercion or drug."

Elladan watched her, listening to her admission and seeing her lack of remorse. Oh, she was sorry for all that happened, but not for keeping her son to herself. He smiled sadly, so sadly. "Considering all that both of us had been through, and the fact that what you did no doubt saved Kili's life …and perhaps your own, I find that I have little energy to be angry on the matter."

"For now." Dis dared to tease him.

Elladan's eyebrows rose and he snorted out a rough chuckle. "Indeed."

"I can't give you back those lost years." Dis' voice sobered.

"No." He agreed, feeling worn out and scraped raw both inside and out. "And I'm not going away. Wife."

Startled, Dis stared at him for a long moment. Her head dipped in a nod, barely.

"I love him."

Dis' eyes closed, almost in despair, but also in acknowledgement of simple truth. "I know."

"I have a lot to learn about being a father, and you …you have a lot to learn about sharing."

"I am not sure that I can." Dis' eyes opened again, her voice tight. "Not easily. But …he is your …he is your son as well."

Elladan looked at her for a long time, then nodded toward her. "Thank you."

They both knew without discussion, that were it not for the need to protect the child they both loved, then this conversation would have gone a lot differently. What had been done was nigh to unforgiveable, but out of the doomed marriage had come a treasure that neither could bear to deny. It was the only thing keeping them both civil. It was the only thing tying them together.

For the moment, it was enough.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel caught up with Kili without any problem. He'd stopped to wait for her. His dark, laughing eyes following her as she neared him, lighting up with appreciation. "I love the way you walk." He said silkily.

The she-elf slid her eyes over to him and he winked at her. "I just walk." She said dryly.

"No, no it's you. It's special." Kili contradicted her, shaking his head as they fell into step together. Actually, he was moving faster since she had a longer stride. She slowed and he passed her, turning to give her a chiding look. "You're all leg."

"I am tall." She agreed. "Compared to dwarves, at least."

Kili laughed at her, a silly grin on his face as he shrugged at her as if to say she'd not gotten it quite right. "You're perfect the way you are."

Tauriel sent him a sour look, starting to walk again. He quickly moved up beside her. "You don't take compliments well." He teased her with a frown that did not match the humor in his expressive eyes.

The red-head didn't respond, though she had heard this before. From Legolas, actually. Slowing, she finally stopped walking. Kili again stood just in front of her, cocking his head to one side as if to ask what her thoughts were.

Tauriel looked around, finding themselves in relative privacy. The main hall was several feet away, with dwarrow passing by, paying them no attention.

"I'm not beautiful, no …" Tauriel held up one hand to stop him as he began to interrupt her. "I know you find me pretty, but as far as true beauty is concerned, I don't reach that mark. I am not putting myself down, or looking for false compliments. I know the truth of how I look. There is no need to flatter me."

Kili watched her for a second, but didn't shower her with a flood of words of denial. Instead he pointed at her. "Do you find me attractive?"

Tauriel hissed lightly at him.

Kili's smile, already present, widened achingly slowly until it filled his entire face. "Do you?" He breathed out the words in a near whisper, raising his eyebrows enticingly.

The red-head nodded at him, starting to look frustrated as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You have a favored look to me." She did not tell him he did not match Elven aesthetics of beauty, because that had never been a draw for her. There was a masculine appeal about Kili that had been present from the very beginning.

"Are you Human?" He asked next, taking her by complete surprise.

"No." She answered, no longer sure of the conversation or where it was going.

"I have been assured that I am ugly to both Dwarves and Elves, and that only humans find me handsome. Thus, you have to be a human woman." He suddenly laughed at the ill expression settling on her face. "So. Not human? Or is it that you see something in me that the others don't see? That's how my mam always explained love to me."

Tauriel froze for a second, sending him an incredulous look.

Kili laughed again, waving at her. "Oh, I very much doubt that my mother had you in mind when telling me and Fili how falling in love was supposed to go." His grin faded away, leaving him looking earnest and somber. "But do not doubt that I am in love with you. And to me there is no more beautiful female in all of Arda."

Tauriel licked her lips nervously when he suddenly smiled again, as if the sun simply pierced through the darkness and all was aglow. "So learn to take a compliment, because I won't be stopping."

She sighed and nodded, then shook her head. "You are far from ugly."

"See? I knew you loved me." Kili grabbed her hand and tugged her forward again. "Because you're too fine an archer to be blind. And you are beauty personified."

"I thought I was all leg." She retorted as they walked.

Kili turned and looked up at her, shocked. "What made you think that was a complaint?" He gave her a cheerful leer that had her smiling back at him even as she rolled her eyes.

Yet, when she looked back to Kili it was only to find he was staring at her with an ultra-serious gaze. She could almost feel the heat of his consideration, his …appreciation. For her. Tauriel's breath caught as her stomach began to feel fluttery. There wasn't enough time to respond, which was good, since she had no idea how to carry on the flirting banter he seemed so fond of. They had arrived at the king's temporary rooms, only to draw short as they spied Galadriel standing there with Cirdan.

Tauriel looked at Kili as he stopped in front of the mother of his father's mother. Gone was her laughing beau and in his place was a resolute warrior.

"I won't be changing my mind about leaving." Kili told the duo with quiet strength, Tauriel noted with pride.

Galadriel smiled and the red-head fought the urge to duck her head or drop her eyes. "Unfortunately the weather is not friendly, and you may have to take your leave sooner rather than later."

Kili caught his breath, but nodded grimly. "Yes, yes, I understand."

"Your uncle is waiting to speak with you, Kuilaith." The Lady raised one arm gracefully, indicating the entrance to Thorin's make-shift receiving area. When Tauriel started to step forward to join Kili, the full weight of Galadriel's gaze turned upon her. The Silvan elf dropped her gaze reflexively. "If you would indulge me?"

It wasn't really a question, and all knew it. Still, it was offered as such, giving a sop to Tauriel's pride, especially after being unable to meet the Lady's gaze.

"Love?"

The red-haired she-elf nodded toward her beloved, letting Kili know she was fine. "I will meet up with you later."

Kili grimaced and looked over at Galadriel, but could read nothing from her body language or expression. Still, he opened his mouth to argue but Tauriel shook her head at him quickly, stepping closer to the Lady of Light.

Kili grumped, but nodded. "Yes. Later."

Interestingly, Cirdan accompanied Kili in to speak with King Thorin, Tauriel noted. She turned back to the Lady, only to find Galadriel already walking away. Dwarrow seemed to melt out of her path without forethought or volition. The way just seemed to open up naturally before her.

Tauriel wondered if King Thranduil had ever noticed such, for he would have been utterly jealous.

"A complicated elf."

Startled, the red head froze for a second and then had to stretch her gait slightly to catch up with the Lady. "Who do you speak of?"

"Thranduil, of course." Galadriel's voice sounded lyrical, almost like a musical instrument. Clear and almost piercing in purity. Next to her Tauriel felt small and grubby.

"Kuilaith loves you just as you are, and hardly the shortest elf I have ever met."

Tauriel stopped cold, refusing to walk further. Her eyes glared at the living legend before her. "My mind is not a book for you to browse at leisure."

Galadriel's gentle smile grew as she nodded. "Not having trouble meeting my eyes anymore, are you?"

The Silvan elf felt off-kilter, she swallowed hard and shook her head, crossing her arms nervously. "Am I supposed to apologize?"

"You are supposed to realize that you won't burst into flames and no one will throw you into a cell for daring to look at me." Galadriel answered smoothly. "There is no cost to merely being in my presence."

"And the cost of loving the son of your daughter's child?" The words left her without thought, or filter. Tauriel's green eyes widened in instant distress.

Galadriel, though, appeared amused. She looked around most deliberately. "Still no flames or cells." She said, her tone inviting and seemingly open.

Slowly, Tauriel began to breathe again, her heartrate slowing. As she did, Galadriel started walking again, leaving the other she-elf to follow. Eventually they walked outside the front gates of Erebor, ignoring the startled looks of the dwarves on watch as they moved over to where the stables had once been housed.

"Foul deeds were done here." Galadriel cautioned, lifting her head to the wind as if to scent the air as her eyelids drifted down. The cold breeze wafted through her wavy hair, though the golden elf gave no sign that she felt the temperature at all. "Snows come. Deep. Soon."

Tauriel nodded. She hadn't been out here in a few days, and it startled her that she had not realized such. She, who loved the outdoors as much as any elf. She looked up at the moon, almost moaning at the sight of its light cast down upon Arda. "I know. I will be travelling with one precious to you. Two, actually. I swear on my life to protect them."

Galadriel nodded absently, her eyes closed and her head still lifted. "The star-song is different in the mountains that it is in the woods."

Tauriel nodded rather shakily, feeling diminished once again. She herself had to strive to hear the stars. Centering her inner light and finding that quiet spot within herself. Not so with the Lady of the Golden Wood, apparently.

"You have only ever head the songs in the protective bower of the Mirkwood." Galadriel continued, her voice devoid of judgement as far as the red-head could tell. "I promised to take you with me, allow you to see more of this world."

Ah. Tauriel relaxed, thinking she now understood this conversation a bit better. "I do not blame you for any change in our circumstances. And I will be travelling, just not with you." The she-elf suddenly coughed and shook her head, wondering if she'd misinterpreted. "I have not been released from your service, I am sorry for the presumption." She paled a bit as she realized she'd made promises to Kili even though she was not technically free to do so.

In all her time here, none of the High Elves, especially Galadriel, had given her any duties. The freedom had been misleading and she'd forgotten that she'd been released from Thranduil's command in order to take oath with the Lady.

Galadriel waved a hand at the red-head as if suddenly irritated. "Child. I do not seek to hold you, bind you, or make you serve me. I do not ask you to swear to protect Kuilaith or Elladan. I promised you something and am unable at this time to meet that promise."

"I gladly follow Kili." Tauriel quickly said, then stopped. She'd been calling her beloved by his Dwarvish name since the beginning. Was she insulting the Lady by continuing to do so in her presence?

"Stop." The Lady of Light suddenly looked saddened. She dropped her head and turned, looking right at Tauriel. "If you are to be Kuilaith's bride, then I will not have you worrying about every thought or word you utter. I simply want to assure you that this journey you undertake with the son of my daughter's son is of your own free will. I hold you to no oaths or promises. You are your own person."

Tauriel stared at the High Elf, one of the Ringbearers, and a legend even among their own race. "I love him." She said simply. "I go with him for no other reason."

Galadriel smiled gently and nodded. "I had hoped for such. Upon my first meeting with Kuilaith, before he even had that name, his thoughts were full of you."

"This doesn't bother you?" The red-head couldn't help but ask.

The Golden Lady took a long time to answer, her expression never changing and yet Tauriel could almost taste a hint of sadness upon the air. "At one time, in my pride, it might have." She admitted at last.

Tauriel said nothing, but slammed her mental walls down tightly as anger filled her. Did the Lady look down upon her own descendant so much that she felt ….what? That Kili was beneath her and thus fitting to be courting a lowly Silvan elf?

Galadriel watched her, saying nothing at first. "What I speak of with you I have told no one, not even Lord Celeborn. Not yet."

Startled, Tauriel shifted her weight on her feet a bit uneasily.

"There is a foulness coming. War. Saruman's betrayal and Sauron's return, they poison the very air. I will fight this blight with all that I have, but I am unsure of the outcome. There are dark days ahead. My heart grows cold and weary at the thought."

Tauriel listened with a growing sense of sorrow.

"In all this I sense, for I am not to know these things, not these … but I sense that our futures are to rest not in the might of arms. I feel that our salvation, if it comes, will be carried forth by steady and joyful hearts. By something I have not yet witnessed. Something new to me."

The red-head watched as Galadriel turned to look up at the moon. "Tilion."

Tauriel startled, shaking her head.

The Lady turned back to her in reassurance. "No. The weight of this war will not rest on Kuilaith's back, though I sense he has his fair part to play. And it will not be up to me either. The time of the High Elves is passing. We will soon enough depart from Middle Earth." Galadriel smiled sadly. "We will lend aid and support and do all that we can, but this responsibility will fall hardest on another. One of which I am not yet aware."

Nervously, Tauriel nodded to show she was listening. Understanding was another matter entirely. All of this talk confused her. "Lady, the Silvan do not sail West. We will remain."

Galadriel blinked, as if surprised by the interruption, though she was smiling gently. When the High Elves pass from this land, there will begin a new age. The other races will mingle in ways unheard of but for a few cases." She sent a telling look in Tauriel's direction.

The Silvan elf bit her tongue, but it wasn't enough to keep her quiet. "Lady. I am not understanding what you are trying to tell me."

Galadriel laughed quietly, then nodded. "I am old and my time is passing. There is something coming for me that I must face, and overcome, if I can. I knew that. What I did not know, was that life could still surprise me. Kuilaith." His name was like music on her tongue. "He brings new life into my line ….to me."

Tauriel nodded carefully, almost afraid.

"Joy. He is named for being a living embodiment of that which brings joy to others. To me." Galadriel stressed the last two words strongly. "You bring joy to him. Here is the plain truth. I thought that there was nothing new in this world for me to love. That in these waning times that I had lived and seen and loved all that I was capable of loving."

"Oh." The word escaped her without thought.

"Kuilaith was a revelation to me, and to my heart. He brings life back to me. Not just a purpose for living on, such as protecting Middle Earth or looking after my family. He reminds me that there is joy still in living." Galadriel turned to face Tauriel in a straight forward manner. "I fear for what comes next in his life. To Mordor this child of my line is nothing but a sacrificial pawn."

The red-head's fists clenched at the name of that evil.

"Do I want him to look elsewhere for a wife? No. You, you bring him joy and happiness. You are the light in all this darkness that I see around him. I do you no favors by allowing you to be with him. I fear the road will be treacherous."

Tauriel's head lifted, her jaw clenched with stubborn determination.

"I just don't want to send you with him as a duty given to you. I don't send you as a service, I release you. You are free to make any …"

"I choose him." Tauriel did the unthinkable and interrupted the legendary Galadriel.

The Golden Lady stilled, her eyes widening a bit and then she nodded, pleased. "So be it."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Yet another new blade." Tauriel murmured as she trekked down the long hallway, her hand firm upon the sheath. Still, it wasn't a complaint. Galadriel had gifted her with an Elvish blade from the First Age. One enhanced by magics long since lost to those remaining in Arda.

The sound of a small waterfall filled the hallway, letting her know she was heading in the right direction. She had only a vague notion of where she was going, having gotten the directions from Bifur.

The kind dwarrow who stood for her in the Dwarven courting rituals had intercepted her on the way back inside Erebor. She'd still felt unbalanced after her talk with the Lady Galadriel and had been happy to share a mug or two of ale with Bifur.

He at least hadn't given her a new blade. It had been two of them. Twin daggers and a furred scarf meant to keep her warm. Tauriel smiled. His kindness, and that of others, were warming her far more than any scarf or gloves.

Still, the jumble of gestures and odd words meant to give her directions to where Kili might be found had been hard to decipher. Tauriel turned the corner and spotted the double doors that Bifur had outlined with his hand gestures.

There were a few dwarrow around, though none that she knew personally. They turned and gave her looks that weren't friendly or unfriendly either.

"I am seeking Prince Kili."

A moment of hesitation, then one of the dwarves tilted his head toward the double doors.

Tauriel nodded, then frowned. "Are females allowed inside or do I wait out here for him to come out?"

A grunt, then an actual nod, strangely approving for all the lack of expression. "These aren't baths, they're for reflection and meeting and gatherings."

"Lucky they're intact." Another dwarrow said quietly. "Not too badly damaged."

Taking that for permission, Tauriel opened one of the double doors and slipped inside. There she stopped and stared in awe.

This wasn't a mined area, this was part of a natural cave system. Columns of stalagmites and stalactites littered the area, and the floor was suddenly uneven. Lanterns lit the area, with the walls were embedded with crystals that reflected the light throughout the area. It was magic.

Tauriel stared, looking around and around, until a polite cough had her moving to one side. She looked at the dwarrow behind her, who was now grinning at her reaction to the cavern.

"I did not know such could exist." She admitted humbly.

The dwarrow nodded thoughtfully at her, then pointed down a side passage way. "I think the prince is down that way."

Tauriel thanked him and turned toward the indicated direction, following the tunnel. Used to seeing the precision cut hallways of the dwarves, the natural meandering of the cave system was new to her. She thought to call out to Kili, but it felt wrong somehow, to lift her voice in this serene and beautiful place.

Behind her the sounds of the waterfall faded slightly as the cavern tunnel twisted and turned a few times until it opened up naturally into a small grotto.

Kili stood there, lost in thought, staring at a small reflective pool.

Unaware of her advance, Tauriel watched the dark-haired prince, studying his profile. What had he said? Ugly by the standards of both their races?

Hardly. Tauriel's green eyes traced every line of the dwarrow prince who held her heart. He was beautiful to her. Her heartrate sped up and she acknowledged to herself, there would be no other. Not for her.

Swiftly she approached, and at last he seemed to sense her arrival. He looked up as she neared. He had a chance to merely smile before her hands were on either side of his face and she was kissing him.

She'd surprised him, she could tell. He laughed, and that laughter faded as the kiss continued. Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her in closer.

It was several minutes before their lips parted, leaving them both breathless and feeling overly hot.

"I like that greeting." Kili whispered to her.

Tauriel ran her fingers across the short stubble of his growing beard, so different from anyone else she'd known in her life. Her thumb moved to trace the line of his bottom lip.

"Tauriel?"

"Do we have to leave within the hour?" She asked him, letting her lips follow the path of her thumb. "If not, I prefer to be thinking Dwarven thoughts."

"No. And I like this particular thought." He laughed, and let her recapture his lips.


	62. In which Cirdan writes

The fire was warming the room nicely, despite the chill of being underground, in winter. Marvelous heating system the Dwarves had. There was some true genius behind the original design of Erebor, Cirdan mused. He wondered what the new and rebuilt mountain kingdom would be like when finished. Ah, but then he was losing himself from the conversation. Not good.

The sound of voices blended together for a moment, leaving not any individual words, yet a near musical drone. The bass and baritone would be provided by the Dwarves, of course. The counter-balance of tenor would be the elves. For a moment, Cirdan almost expected the trill of a soprano to come over the top and …he blinked. The fire came back into focus once more and the voices broke apart to individual speakers again.

A piece of wood cracked sharply within the flames, and a stray ember flew up while the Shipwright's eyes calmly traced it's path as it turned to gray and then disintegrated, becoming too small to trace each piece as they entered the room in a seemingly random pattern.

A shape in the whiff of smoke, a movement of a cinder, the shift of light ….

It was then he realized there were no further voices. He turned to look at those he'd been meeting with, when from the corner of his eye he caught another shadow cast by the firelight upon the stones of the chimney.

_"White covers the light and the dark, casting all in the shadow of deception. Red trembles and bubbles, hungry, always so hungry. The search for gold consumes, subsumes, resumes, while that vein remains hidden beneath the green and the growing. Found and yet lost, seeking, searching, digging without purchase. White, all is white."_

Coming out of it, he blinked. Cirdan, long used to such things, licked his lips and reached for a pitcher of water just out of his reach.

King Bard stared, unsure and uneasy, until a rough nudge from his fellow monarch had him blinking and sitting forward in order to push the pitcher toward the strange bearded elf. Yet after he did so, a glance behind him showed that Thorin's eyes were just as unsure as his own. It made him feel only a little better.

Gandalf gave an unhappy sigh, his fingers twitching as if they wanted to be doing something. He caught Thorin's glance in his direction and shrugged. "I seem to have lost my pipe somewhere."

"What did all of that mean?" King Bard asked suddenly, even if it meant being rude. He nodded his head almost apologetically in Cirdan's direction.

The Shipwright smiled benignly and shook his head. "It's going to snow."

Startled, Thorin grimaced and shook his head. "White covers all in deception? Sounds more like Saruman is planning something. Remember him, fellow in white?"

"No. Well, yes, of course he is." Cirdan allowed calmly. "But in this, it is simply a warning of a storm. Perhaps on more than one level, but the more immediate is the snow. All who are going to leave, need to do so before morning."

Elrond looked worried. "Red is hungry?" He settled on another part of the speaking.

The bearded elf shrugged lightly. "I caught the sound of boots in the snow. I think perhaps another round of attacks? Or, I wonder at a deeper meaning? Something redder and hotter than blood?"

"Like lava perhaps? Or molten ore?" King Thorin scoffed sourly, though also with great caution. "The smelters are down and Erebor is no volcano, nor are there any nearer here than Mordor itself." His own words made him look up in wonder. "Another warning that Sauron is growing in strength?"

"Ah!" Cirdan brightened, then his countenance fell and he shook his head. "Perhaps, but …no." Then he nodded, as if to himself. "Maybe."

"Glad that's clear." Dain muttered gruffly.

"The search for gold consumes, subsumes, resumes …." Lord Elrond sighed unhappily.

Thorin slammed his fist down hard on the table, making it shake with the might of his strength. Several sat up, away from the edge of the table. Glorfindel merely smiled, still leaning forward with his hand propping up his chin.

Dain scowled. "It's a mine. Mining. It's what we do. Not until the rebuilding is done. I want to hear more about a possible attack."

Thorin's face flushed with anger and he glared at Elrond. "I am not so subsumed, not now!" His own private worries about gold sickness making him touchy about the suggestion from outiders.

"Once we leave? Once Kuilaith is safely away and the mountain remains wholly in your possession?" Elrond spoke leadingly, only to be halted by Celeborn's hand upon his forearm.

The silver-haired elf shook his head. "I think it more likely the words are in reference to the One Ring."

Elrond hissed, but sat back, his thoughts whirling away to reassemble in a differing pattern.

"Found, and yet lost." Galadriel finally spoke up, her eyes closed as if she were tasting the words she was speaking. "The Dwarven treasure was found, losing the king to its thrall. Yet he has reclaimed himself. I think those particular words are not pointing toward him."

Thorin growled, but held his tongue, barely.

"Nay. These words were of things not yet formed." Cirdan mused, finishing his second cup of water since he'd spoken his visions aloud.

"Is the Ring found, or to be found?" Celeborn asked, an anxious tone in his smooth voice. "And by whom?"

Cirdan stood, stretching lithely. "Come. Let us be off, those of us that don't want to be covered in white for the rest of the season. All must make haste." His words were at odds with his slow, deliberate movements. "It is good that Thranduil has already left to make his preparations …." The elf's voice trailed off as he stared at the fire with a small smile.

Thorin clenched his teeth together, ready for more of the spooky words from the Shipwright. But only a moment or two passed before the bearded elf simply continued as if nothing had happened.

"And now we too must be off." Cirdan concluded with a small smile. "I trust all has been made ready?"

"Elrohir and I are packed and leave with Kuilaith and Tauriel." Glorfindel bowed to the room in general.

"With Dwalin." Thorin added pointedly.

"Of course." The golden-haired warrior smiled winningly. "Though Kuilaith still protests."

Dain nodded and shrugged. "The lad still wants you and his uncle to lay a false trail in an opposite direction?"

"I prefer they go in strength." Thorin grunted, with a nod of approval from Elrond of all persons.

"The confusion of me and mine leaving, as well as Celeborn and his, will assist with all the false trails we need." Cirdan said, then gestured at King Bard. "You and yours too, of course."

The human archer eyed the ancient elf oddly, but nodded readily enough.

"Come. We lose time." Dain glared around the room, temporarily forgetting he wasn't in charge. When his eyes came to Thorin he paused, grinned and shrugged. "Cousin."

The King Under the Mountain chuckled. Once used to leading, it was difficult not being the one giving the orders. He nodded his forgiveness, but then barked an order at Dain for good measure. "Get yourself ready too, cousin. Or did you forget?"

Dain rubbed his beard and chuckled, nodding his respect toward Thorin with a simple bow. "I will return in the spring. Relieve those troops I leave here in your charge."

Thorin made a hand signal in Iglishmek denoting great thankfulness. His cousin was leaving most of the warriors he'd brought to Erebor, travelling back to the Iron Hills with a select troop.

Dain nodded and flashed some hand signals of his own, denoting pride and kinship. He straightened to his full height, which didn't quite meet that of his cousin. "Stay stone, do not fall."

Thorin walked up to the other dwarrow, putting his hand on Dain's shoulder. "You as well. Take care of that treasure of yours."

The Iron Hill's dwarrow cursed under his breath, as he'd been unsuccessful in convincing Calbrinia to stay in Erebor for the winter. She'd made it known that where the Ironfoot went, so did she. "Damnable dwarrowdam!"

Thorin laughed, saw the consternation and pleasure warring in Dain's expression, and his laughter only grew.

"Yes? Well. With spring will come a whole onslaught of new residents to Erebor. Lots of dwarrowdams. With Fili and Kili all nicely wrapped up in that regard, that leaves all those feminine eyes …on you."

Thorin's eyes widened and he shook his head mockingly. "Don't be cruel. I'll just sick Dwalin on them." He smirked.

Suddenly Dain laughed. "What Dwalin? He'll be with Kili wherever the stripling is going. You're stuck with Balin to protect you." He leaned in conspiratorially. "You'll be wed within a year."

"Never." Thorin shuddered at the very thought, then grinned. "I will still have Dis to protect me."

Dain's smile vanished and he sighed. "That's true enough. And I'd wager on your sister … excepting against tall red-haired elf lasses and shy crafters."

Thorin and Dain shared their laughter together as they said their farewells.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Are you ready?"

Dwalin looked up from his packs, which he was triple-checking on his mount. He grunted as he nodded at his brother. "Balin."

"Take care of them, brother. And yourself." The white-bearded dwarrow said with a smile that didn't stay long on his lips.

"You don't trust me?" Dwalin feigned hurt, then shook his head with one of his customary growls.

"Oh, you're only travelling to who-knows-where with Kili. You know, the object on the very top of Sauron's list to hunt down and destroy. The Deceiver's wrath and all of that." He made a vague gesture with one hand.

Dwalin grinned in response. "Oh, I'm thinking he wants that Ring more than he wants Kili."

"But he knows basically where Kili is, and not that blasted Ring." Balin countered, crossing his arms. "And you're right in his path." At his sibling's droll look he huffed. "Yes, yes. I would want you to go and protect the lad, but that doesn't mean I can't wish you a safe journey."

"Yer armed." Dwalin pointed out, nodding toward Balin's side.

"You're always armed." Countered Balin with a hint of sarcasm.

The bald warrior turned to face his brother. Of the two, he knew he was considered the more dangerous dwarrow. But looks were only part of the total. Balin had a way with words, and strategy, and that in itself was a weapon. On top of that, the white-bearded dwarf wielded a long, flat-bladed mace that had been cast with a coppery hue that when caught in light could shine like a flame. "Why are you carrying that?"

Balin shrugged, looking abashed. "As I was coming down that Cirdan fellow was talking about possible attacks still on the way and how it wasn't smart to go unarmed."

Dwalin nodded, dismissing the concern with a shrug. "Well, I never go unarmed." He paused and turned to his sibling with a puzzled expression. "Though, he did say something else you might be interested in."

"Oh?"

The bald warrior nodded absently. "He told me that the training of a new ruler was an important contribution, not to be sneered at."

"True enough." Balin agreed, but he too looked a tad puzzled. "Though does he think Kili will become king?"

Dwalin shrugged. "More likely Kili will grow up to rule one of those elvish settlements. Who knows? Though what do I know of ruling? Bah. Elvish prattle."

"Indeed." Balin said, though his voice sounded more thoughtful than that of his brother. "Though speaking of training, I will be the one teaching Erelinde all winter."

Dwalin smirked. "Playing nursemaid here or out there as a target of Sauron? I know which one I prefer. You have my sympathies brother."

The brothers laughed companionably even as Balin huffed about how much he enjoyed Erelinde's company. Dwalin, on the other hand, was not in the lasses good graces, and vice versa.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Do you even know how to read a map?" Dain groused. "The Iron Hills is in the wrong damned direction!"

Hinnin shrugged, his face neutral. "I want to be at your wedding. I've always wanted to see a Dwarven wedding. We hold no such ceremonies, you understand."

Dain shook his head, his eyes wide. "I'm not taking you with me to the Iron Hills." He stopped and realized that he'd left something important out. "And who says you're invited, or that it will be soon? Bah!"

"I'll just follow along." Hinnin shrugged, smoothing the blanket on his horse which towered over all of the bustling dwarves. "Besides, I'll be making contact with the rangers stationed in that direction."

"So, it's not just my wedding that concerns you." Dain crossed his arms, looking ill-tempered.

"I'm invested in this romance!" Hinnin smiled at the sour look on his friend's face. "I was there when you met, I've watched as she wooed you into courting her. There's a love saga here that needs to be written, and I can't leave it half-done. Besides, an extra fighter might not be remiss."

"Do you think to come as some sort of body guard?" Dain asked in a near shout, looking insulted.

"One elf? Against Mordor? Hardly." Hinnin shrugged complacently. "More likely you and yours would have to protect me. I'm just one elf."

"One pain in the arse." Dain grumped, giving in so easily that those who knew him could tell he wasn't really unhappy at all. "We don't have the wine cellar that Erebor does."

"I don't have the thirst of Glorfindel." Hinnin promised, making Dain and several of his warriors laugh easily.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Nuluin."

Thorin looked up at Bofur as his friend walked into his make-shift study unannounced. He eyed the dwarrow carefully, liking the color and ease of movement. "You improve."

"You coddle." Bofur grumped and shook his head. "Nuluin."

"What about him?" Thorin asked, looking back down at his papers, but only for a moment. He suddenly grinned and glanced back up. "Forgot to congratulate you. Brunere is wearing your bead."

Bofur waved off the sentiment. "Mine and three others." He said sourly, though he couldn't help the confident grin that settled on his mobile mouth. "She'll choose me."

"I have no doubt." Thorin offered his support wholeheartedly. "And I owe you. For Fili."

The hatted dwarf shook his head. "Nay, nay. Lad kept me going. He did well, Thorin. Very well. He's an honor to the blood."

"He is indeed." The king said with great pride. "Now what's this about Nuluin?"

"He's not packed." Bofur spread his hands. "I've been in the healing halls. For the lass, not any illness, mind you. And he's not packed."

Blue eyes blinked, and then the king nodded. "He's not going."

"He's an elf."

Thorin nodded slowly, lifting one eyebrow as he spoke. "I did notice."

"He's staying here by himself?" Bofur looked stunned, though not upset. He thought about it a moment, then shrugged. "Why?"

"Says he has a lot to learn here. And that he dreams of the sound of water on stone."

Bofur scratched his chin and shook his head. "I don't know what that means."

Thorin shrugged. "Neither do I. But he asked to stay. And since Kili will be back, and the elves with them, I saw no reason not to have a fully trained Elvish healer in residence. Oin is happy. Why? Have you heard any grumbles?"

Bofur laughed. "Grumbles? We're dwarves, of course there are grumbles. But not about Nuluin. He's still working with the injured from Sauron's attack. Saved a lot of lives from the Halls." He smirked and then went on. "Do the other elves mind that we're keeping him?"

"We're not keeping him. Nuluin asked to stay and I've made an allowance for him to do so." Thorin straightened, running a hand over his hair to push it back out of his face. "He's a competent healer and I'd be foolish to let him go."

"More than competent, I'd say." Bofur agreed. "Brunere pointed out that the healers Thranduil sent us all defer to him. A lot."

Thorin nodded, making a notation on yet another parchment. "Come. Let's go down and say our goodbyes. Dain left over two hours ago, and Celeborn should be gone too. Elrond goes with them, and then will travel from Lothlorien to Rivendell. Damn. This is getting complicated. Kili will be leaving next."

Bofur consulted the inner sense of each dwarrow that let him know the time of day, despite living beneath the ground and without sight of the sun. "It's not even close to dawn."

Thorin nodded, then as he came around the table serving as his desk his hand brushed a box and he sighed, cursing under his breath as he picked it up.

"What?" Bofur asked, the box didn't look special. Not decorated or carved except with a …he peered at it closer, yes, those color variations hinted at water. "Elvish?" He guessed, thinking no dwarf would be so understated.

"Cirdan. He left hours ago as well. But he left this here for me to give to Dwalin and Glorfindel. I forgot to give it to them, and they should be leaving about now."

"Forgot?" Bofur said, that wasn't like Thorin.

"I had Kili in here and we were talking." The king's voice hinted at the sorrow and hardship it had been to let his younger sister-son leave Erebor and the hatted dwarf nodded in understanding and commiseration. It would have been easy to forget a small thing like this when dealing with the turmoil of emotions that meeting must have engendered.

Thorin cleared his throat, signaling he would speak no further on the subject. "He's a good lad. A good dwarrow." He not-so-subtlety stressed the second word.

"Kili is an excellent dwarrow, and an honor to his blood. Durin's blood." Bofur added his own words on the matter.

"Come. Let's go see if they've already left." Thorin began, only to sigh as a messenger arrived waving a message. "What now?"

"Raven. From one of the smaller human controlled communities east of us." The messenger frowned, showing the unopened wax seal on the message container.

Thorin eyed the white wax emblem with a sudden premonition of worry. "White covers all." He said vaguely. "And the Red is hungry."

"What does that mean?" Bofur asked curiously, not having been present during Cirdan's eerie speaking.

"Wish I knew." The king muttered uneasily.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I can't believe they're gone." Fili said, looking off into the darkness where the banners of those from Lothlorien were heading. "It seems like ages ago that they rode in here."

Kili kept his eyes on those departing, but even his sharp gaze eventually lost them in the early, early morning dark. "When they first got here, I just wanted them to go."

Fili stilled, hearing the sorrow in his brother's voice. He looked out where Galadriel and Celeborn had left, Arwen too. "You'll see them again. They're not letting go of you that easily." He tried to bolster the brunet's mood.

"I'm on my own." Kili said, then seeing his brother's distressed look tried to shake off his own gloominess. "I'm on my own!" He said with much more enthusiasm.

"Not entirely." The blond prince reminded him. "Tauriel, Elladan, Elrohir, Glorfindel, Dwalin, Radagast and Gandalf."

Kili's hand snaked out and grabbed his older brother's arm, squeezing. He said nothing, he didn't have to. Fili knew.

"We've been apart before." The elder brother reminded the younger. "You don't need me to look out for you. You're a proven warrior."

Kili shook his head. "I know."

"Dwalin will be there, like he'd let anything happen to you. Ever. And your father. Elrohir. You'll be lucky you're won't be wrapped in cotton."

Kili snickered at the mental image, but couldn't bring himself to really laugh.

"I'll come with you."

It wasn't the words, it was the bone-deep sincerity in Fili's voice that brought Kili's head up, eyes blazing. "You will not! The whole purpose of this is to protect Erebor, and that's you! You have things to do here, important things! You have to rebuild, you have to keep an eye on Uncle. You have a wife to win, and a kingdom to learn. My going is to give you time and space to do all that!" The brunet moved forward with every emphasis, his fist twisting in his brother's leathers until he was yelling down into the blond's face.

When he was done, Fili gave a twisted half-grin, his blue eyes sparkling with pride. "Finished?"

Kili licked his lips and nodded nervously. Letting go of the leathers to smooth them out.

"You're taller." Fili commented, looking up a bit more than usual.

Kili blushed and started to step back, stopping as the crown prince grabbed both shoulders and held him still. Blue eyes bore into miserable dark chocolate eyes. "You're taller, that isn't a bad thing."

"It isn't a dwarrow thing." Kili said in a much lower voice, nearly a whisper.

"That rune in the heart of Erebor is all dwarrow, and that's your name." Fili reminded him smoothly.

Dark eyes blinked hopefully. "Aye."

Fili's hands left his brother's shoulders and moved to either side of Kili's face, pulling him in so their foreheads rested together. "Come back as fast as you can."

"Build fast." Kili demanded in a whisper, his arms coming up to wrap around his brother as the two ended up in a fierce hug. "Night and day."

"Night and day." Fili vowed. "And remember, you have parasites. Great big ones. So don't let anyone eat you."

Sudden laugher exploded from Kili, though neither brother let go of each other.

Horns punctuated their laughter and this had both young dwarrow spinning in disbelief, staring out at the gates. "What now?" Fili demanded even as Kili started to take off, only to be jerked to a halt by his own sibling.

The brunet spun back around, wide eyes on Fili.

The crown prince nervously shook his head and pointed a finger directly into Kili's face. "Go now." He nodded even as Tauriel rushed up to them, the others but a step or two behind. He turned on all of them. "Go now! In the confusion."

Kili started to protest, but Fili shook him and shoved him toward Tauriel. "Go, before you get cut off. Attackers? Snow coming to blanket us in? This will be your ONLY opportunity. GO!"

Elrohir nodded, tapping Dwalin on the shoulder as they turned to head back toward their mounts.

A snarl was their only warning before a riderless warg leapt out of the darkness to bite down on Dwalin's forearm, trying to pierce the thick leather and armor.

A swing of Elrohir's sword killed the beast, a second swing beheaded it. Dwarrow rushed toward them in support, just as the leading edge of orcs and goblins came at them.

"How do they have enough for another attack? Haven't we killed thousands already?" Fili groused even as he stuck one blade in an orc's eye all the way through to the brain.

"The red is hungry!" Glorfindel cursed and pointed, now that the torches of Erebor shone on their attackers and the banners became clearer. The fabric was either blood red, or stained in that precious fluid. The emblem was the gnashing teeth of wargs.

Two arrows suddenly pierced Dwalin through his foot and lower leg, dropping the warrior just as he'd been about to end the life of an orc who now shouted in victory. That shout turned into a death gurgle as Balin's mace effectively rearranged his face. Backwards.

"Go!" Fili moved to stand over a grimacing Dwalin who was struggling to his feet. Or at least one foot.

"Morgul shaft!" Tauriel pointed at the one in the bald warrior's foot, her face white in the darkness.

Fili paused, stunned. Morgul? Like the wound Kili had gotten before Lake Town? Dwalin would need immediate attention. But Kili needed to be off. And there were wargs and warg riders everywhere, ready to give chase.

A sharp whistle rent through the air followed by the sounds of a horse's hooves pounding in their direction. Suddenly the large beast rode up, rising up on two legs and coming down in a thundering rush just as someone leapt up gracefully into the saddle.

A swing of golden hair, followed by the swing of a sword ripping the life out of three orcs and gravely injured a warg.

Angry calls and shouts of rage followed as the orcs and wargs followed the horse as Glorfindel urged his mount forward, leading them away from the group. And away from the Mirkwood.

Recognizing the opportunity gifted them, Fili spun. He eyed the others. "Go now. I've got Dwalin." But now there was no dwarf with Kili. The only other dwarrow out with them were of the Iron Hills, almost. Though there were limited options. Fili wanted to go. He needed to go. The warrior in him was ready, but the prince in him drew up and pointed a bloody dagger at Balin. "Go with them!"

The white-haired dwarf eyed his prince for only a second and them was running off with the others. Obeying the stark command of leadership.

Fili turned back, shouting orders to form up defensive lines before the orcs could regroup. Against Dwalin's roars of rage, he also had his mentor and friend dragged back inside Erebor. Though he knew he'd be paying for that later.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili and Tauriel led the way, with Balin and Elrohir behind. Once past the main environs surrounding Erebor they heard no more of the fighting, though there was still a glow behind them, vaguely.

The brunet princeling threw another glance behind them, wondering at the outcome. Dwalin. Fili. He chewed his bottom lip. "We shouldn't have left them."

No one heard his mutterings, not over the sound of the horses as they moved swiftly through the area. Still, he could almost feel Tauriel's regard. He flashed her a smile and looked up at the moon.

Tilion's Heir. That was supposed to be him, right? No, Tilion wasn't the moon itself, but the Maia who had taken charge of the last fruit of one of the Two Trees. That fruit had become the moon. And Tilion was its guardian.

That same moon that was shining on them, was shining down on Erebor. On his brother. He looked up nervously again.

There was nothing special about the moon, not in his life. It was a light in the sky that he used for navigation, hunting, keeping watch, telling time, whatever there was. But the elves found something special in the light. And wasn't he part elf?

Kili glanced up almost fearfully, but he could sense nothing.

Tauriel urged her mount closer to his. "If you worry about cover, it can't be helped. We are several hours away from good coverage. And that same cover can hide our enemies as well."

Kili nodded. The red-headed she-elf he loved so dearly was usually right with him in thinking, but he'd not shared this with her. Not yet. Tilion's Heir. What did it mean?

"Elladan is with Gandalf and Radagast on that rabbit sled. I'm sure they're fine. They will arrive in the Mirkwood long before us." Tauriel reassured him, looking worried.

Kili forced a smile for her benefit and nodded, turning his attention back to the road ahead. He wasn't keeping secrets from her, not really. There wasn't anything to tell.

What was Tilion's Heir? Nothing. He glanced up at the moon. It was just an object in the sky. Like always.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Gloin looked up as the king entered the area, looking around at the injured being tended.

"REPORT!" Thorin demanded, looking around at the muted chaos around him.

Gloin hurried over, grimacing. "The enemies are repelled. It looks like it was nothing more than left-over warriors from the last failed attempt to overrun us.

The king looked around, a tic forming at the side of his left eye as he marched over and kicked a dead carcass, turning the body over. The orc moaned and Gloin raised a bushy eyebrow as an Iron Hills warrior sighed and speared the body with his sword.

"Left-overs? The last battle was fought with goblins. No orcs to speak of." Thorin spread his arms and turned in a circle as he counted. "One, two, three …"

"Yes, yes." Gloin coughed, catching his breath for a moment. "I did not …you are right. It doesn't make sense."

"Crazy only makes sense to itself." Thorin quoted Durin as he cursed. "By Nain's Hairy Ass this is a mess. Did Kili get away? Where is Fili?"

Gloin sighed and offered an apologetic look. "Kili is away, but Dwalin was injured. He's here. And Glorfindel led the wargs and orcs away from the princes so that Kili could get away. He's returned unharmed. Fili is up in the healing halls seeing to Dwalin."

Thorin nodded, his teeth clenched.

"Balin went with the lad." Gloin added, holding up his hands in surrender as blue eyes turned angrily upon him. "Fili ordered him to go when Dwalin could not."

Thorin stared stonily at his cousin for a lengthy moment, then relented enough to nod. "I need to send out patrols."

Gloin shook his head. "It's not prudent right now. We have injured and were just attacked." He answered just as Fili walked up to join them.

The king turned on him, making the burly red-head step back for a moment under the onslaught of his gaze. "I need to send out patrols, organize it. I will go myself if necessary."

"Sire." Gloin bowed and ran to make it happen.

"Uncle?" Fili asked, almost hesitantly.

"You sent Balin off with your brother?" The words were stony and cold, giving no hint as to the reception of the information.

The blond swallowed hard but nodded, lifting his chin as he did so. "Dwalin was struck. Morgul shaft. Nuluin's tending him already. In the few minutes it took to get him kicking and screaming to the healer, the foot was already close to blackened."

Thorin nodded slowly. "Screaming in pain?" He asked almost hollowly.

Fili shook his head. "Screaming at me to get him back on the battlefield. Though it was hurting him badly. You know Dwalin, he would never complain."

"Indeed."

Fili looked over at where Gloin was busy getting things done. "Patrols, uncle?"

Thorin turned and glared at his heir for a moment, then sighed and nodded. "The Blacklocks were attacked on their way back home. They were able to limp into a human settlement and send word. But some of their people were cut off from the main group."

Fili's mouth tightened. "You think they holed up somewhere?"

"Or were slaughtered." Thorin nodded wearily. "Either way we need to find out."

It wasn't a question of Blacklock versus Longbeard. It was a question of Mordor versus Khazad.

"I'll go." Fili stood brave and stalwart as Thorin looked over at him, every inch the perfect dwarven warrior. The king smiled as some of his ill temper leeched away.

"You are well enough?" Thorin asked bluntly, his eyes warning his heir to speak only the truth.

"I am." Fili assured his king and uncle. Thorin nodded at him though admonishing him to take Dori and Bifur as well. "Ori too?" Asked the blond.

Thorin shook his head. "Nay, I'm going to need him. You just sent Balin off for who knows how long? Have a messenger have Ori find me. I need Bofur and Bombur working on repairs here as well."

Fili bobbed his head, already in movement to get things done.

Thorin called to him. "Search quickly. The snows will begin to come in only a few hours, and it promises to be bad. Do what you can, but do not overextend yourselves to get caught out."

"Yes, uncle."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin stopped at the open door, peering inside. He paled slightly at the sight of Dwalin. His stoic, tough, hard as iron, cousin.

The bald warrior had his eyes closed, pain etched into every line of his over-white face. Sweat on his forehead and with his fists clenched tightly. The left leg was bare from just above the knee where his leathers had been cut off.

There was a pristine bandage thickly wrapping the calf, and there was a strong odor of herbs. There were thick towels wrapped around Dwalin's left foot, hiding what must be a truly fell wound. Nothing of the actual injury was visible, yet dark streaks of a sickly black rose high above the towels in hideous lines.

Thorin's boot shifted on the stones beneath him, and he watched as Dwalin wiped the sweat from his forehead and even from the top of his head. Dropping his expression into neutral and forcing his fists to open.

The king nodded, recognizing his cousin now. He made a more deliberate sound this time and then acted as if he'd just arrived. "Slouching around are you?"

Dwalin twisted his mouth into a snarl, recognizing the voice but not turning around.

"Where is the healer?" Thorin asked, only to have his question answered as Nuluin and Oin both returned, one after the other. "How is he?"

"He will live." The tall elf said, though his focus wasn't on the king, but on his patient. He unwrapped the foot and set aside the soiled towels that had even the king's iron stomach turning over. "This looks much improved already."

Thorin shook his head, wondering how bad it had been, since it looked pretty hideous already. "Kili's wound did not do that, not so fast."

"The foot has more muscles, but they're smaller and more compact. Less tissue and substance really." Oin answered for the healers. "He may lose a toe."

"I've got extras." Dwalin said with bravado, with no one mentioning his over-pale complexion suddenly had a green tinge to it as he peered at the blackened lump that had once been his perfectly sound foot.

"He got treatment quickly, he may recover without incident." Nuluin hummed under his breath as he worked. "Though it will be painful."

Dwalin made a disparaging sound even as Glorfindel came around the corner with a keg and a mug. "Thought this would help."

"I would prefer to stick to herbal medicines to reduce pain." Nuluin looked up and then shook his head as the golden-haired elf had already pressed a full mug into Dwalin's hand. "Ah well."

Thorin sighed, then shook his head. "Forgot to give this to you two earlier. It was from Cirdan." He started to hand it to Dwalin, but then changed his mind and gave it over to Glorfindel instead.

"For us?" The bald warrior asked even as he winced when Nuluin pressed on something in his foot. "By Nain's Hairy Fecking Ass."

Glorfindel opened the box, finding a note. Puzzled he started to read, and then he started to curse, causing everyone to look at him. He sighed and stared balefully at the king. "Sure give the pretty golden lady of the wood the scary reputation, ignore the bearded one."

"Huh?" Dwalin asked, snatching the parchment from the ancient warrior. He scanned it, scowling. "I can't read this!"

Glorfindel waved the parchment over to Nuluin with a strange look on his face. "This needs more than ale."

The elven healer scanned the paper, blinked, then read it again.

"Aloud please." Thorin ordered lightly.

Nuluin smiled and then shrugged. "Glorfindel and Dwalin, fear not about not accompanying young Kuilaith on this journey. This is for him. The two of you have another type of journey. There is no shame in protecting a kingdom, or molding a new generation of rulers."

"By the Axe and Blood." Thorin whispered. "It's as if he knew I wouldn't give this to you on time."

"He could have warned us." Dwalin grumbled heavily.

"Fili doesn't need molding." Thorin shook his head, feeling affronted on behalf of his crown prince even though the lad wasn't present.

Nuluin blinked and then shook his own head. "The word for 'ruler' in Sindarin has a feminine cast, not masculine."

Thorin blinked, then blinked again. He began to grin slowly. "Balin was supposed to be training Erelinde how to be a queen."

Dwalin glanced at the king, started to look away and then stopped breathing. Finally he started cursing while he shaking his head defiantly. "No, no way."

"Balin took your spot, you're going to have to take his." Thorin laughed outright, feeling better than he had all night.

Glorfindel plucked the empty mug out of Dwalin's hand almost without the warrior noticing. He silently refilled it as the bald dwarrow kept cursing. He snatched the new mug and drained it within seconds.

"She threw a sponge at me. A sponge. Like that's any kind of weapon at all! Silly little bit of lace-work and beads. She's no queen."

"Not yet." Thorin grinned. "But you haven't whipped her into shape yet."

"Poor Elelinde." Oin muttered, shaking his head.

"She threw a sponge at you?" Glorfindel fought a losing battle against a smile. "Did she hit you?"

"It was a sponge. No damage could have been done!"

"But did she hit you?" The elf asked again.

Dwalin glared but did not deny. That was answer enough for them all.

"How was her aim?" The king asked with a sly wink.

The bald dwarrow gestured for more ale and Glorfindel obliged him even as the elf's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. "She's a feather, not even a respectable temper!"

"How much ale is in that keg?" Thorin asked.

"There is not enough ale in Erebor to get me to train that …that …" Dwalin couldn't even finish the thought as he blustered and cursed and Glorfindel refilled his mug yet again.


	63. In which there is gratitude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Hope you enjoy this little (okay, it's not that little) gift. More to come. Hopefully now that the holidays are over I can get back on track.

Kili was so exhausted it took him a moment to realize that his mount had stopped, dropping his head with weariness while stretching his neck for some low-ground vegetation. The brunet tightened his thighs, kicking half-heartedly at the rounded barrel shaped sides of his horse without much thought. The animal nickered with a heavy exhalation, hanging his head down even further and side-stepped in an irritable fashion.

"We can rest here."

Kili pulled at his reins in an effort to turn his horse away from whatever he was trying to eat before actually hearing, and understanding, the words. The young prince frowned, shaking his head as he suddenly realized he wasn't the only one stopped. They all were. He flushed lightly and wouldn't meet his uncle's eyes as he pretended to look around. That pretense turned into reality as he realized they'd entered heavier cover. Good.

Sunlight filtered poorly down through the trees, despite the seasonal lack of leaves. Bared, but heavy limbs twisted and entwined overhead. Kili could only imagine how dense this area would be when those same branches hung gravid with leaves.

Balin groaned heavily, sliding down rather stiffly from his own horse. Rather, from what would have been Dwalin's ride. Kili felt the ache right through to his bones as he too turned in the saddle, letting gravity assist him in gaining his feet. He bit his lips to keep from moaning even as he took a moment stretch. "How long?"

Elrohir moved from horse to horse, checking mouths and eyes as he whispered to them quietly in Sindarin.

"Another day perhaps." Tauriel supplied the answer as she peered up through the branches above at the thin slices of blue sky above them. "It is past noon already."

Kili nodded, his own sense of time having told him that. His stomach as well. But he was used to travelling on meager rations, or running cold camps. "No fire." He ordered, though in truth he could see no one had been looking to build one.

"I thought once we had regained Erebor, that I would never leave her again." Balin murmured, though there was self-depreciation in his voice rather than complaint as he arched his back with a grimace, stretching.

"You will see her again." Tauriel said firmly even as she pulled her saddle and bags from off her horse. Kili idly mused that she sounded determined, rather than prophetic, unlike his own great-grandmother. Suddenly he felt a bit exposed.

He'd only had Galadriel in his life for several weeks, a month or more. Yet it was now that she wasn't around that Kili realized how safe she'd made him feel. It was close to how he'd always felt around his Uncle Thorin. Kili frowned, disturbed and a bit uncomfortable with the comparison. Guilty, as if doing the king some disservice, even in the quiet of his own mind.

That thought had him looking around, touching his weaponry lightly in assurance. He was without Uncle, Mam, Galadriel, and most especially …Fili. Kili's frown sharpened in stark relief upon his rather mobile features.

A flash of bead-bearing red-hair caught the corner of his eye as he turned in her direction. Tauriel. Kili's frown loosened and faded. He wasn't alone. Yet, he wasn't some child in need of protection. This journey had been his choice, his idea really. It was the most mature and adult thing he'd ever done, on his own. Kili suddenly chuckled lightly to himself. In fact, the ones most opposed to the idea of his leaving Erebor where the ones who'd most encouraged him to think and act more like an adult. How … funny, really.

"We shouldn't stop too long." Balin looked pointedly at Tauriel and Kili, then over at Elrohir.

The red head shook her head. "We are in cover, and as tired as we are the horses need the rest more than we." They had ridden through the night and morning already.

Balin nodded even before she'd finished her explanation, already realizing her point. "Kili, lad, what have we to eat? How are we on water? Find us a clear spot, yes? We are not yet guests of the Mirkwood's fine tables." His voice had a decidedly mild sarcasm as he recalled their last visit to Thranduil's halls, and his cells.

Tauriel frowned quietly, though her face smoothed out quickly. Kili wondered if she'd taken offense, but didn't ask as she instead turned to their travel rations, freeing them from the horse's packs.

Elrohir's sharp gaze noted the fleeting expression as well, but instead of saying anything he pointed generally east. "Flowing water less than a half mile, from the sound of it not a large tributary."

"Kili?" Balin nodded at the younger dwarrow.

Tauriel's mouth tightened as she shook her head. "I'll go."

"Your hands, lass." The white-bearded dwarf gave her a sympathetic look, and if he noted she was looking less than open he did not speak on it.

"I can fill a water pouch." The she-elf negated the concern, her voice even.

Kili laughed suddenly, shaking his head. "We'll go together, though I don't need a bodyguard to fetch water."

"Unknown area." Elrohir pointed out calmly. "And I'm sure Kuilaith can handle himself quite effectively. Still, on a journey such as this prudence should shadow all." He paused for a moment before continuing. "But that is not what bothers you."

It was Tauriel's turn to flush slightly as she shook her head and gestured for Kili to lead the way.

Balin blinked and watched them leave. He turned to meet Elrohir's gray eyes, but the elf looked no less enlightened. A bird called out from through the trees and both males flicked their glances in that direction, so hyper-alert that even the small, natural sounds had them on edge.

Balin went so far as to smile and shake himself off. "Your brother should be in the Mirkwood already, travelling with Gandalf and Radagast on that sled thing. Even if the Brown wizard was complaining how his new rabbits weren't used to working together yet."

Elrohir nodded, his eyes thankful yet cautious as he pondered their destination. "It was once known at the Greenwood the Great. Before the shadow of Dol Guldur."

Balin grimaced at the reminder of that fell place, as he rummaged through his brother's travel packs. He sighed, realizing that he had nothing of his own save what he was currently wearing. The two brothers were not of the same size when it came to clothing. "Drat."

Elrohir moved quietly and efficiently through the small area, staking out the horses where they could eat from travel rations brought along for this specific purpose. The nose bags hadn't added that much weight to the packs, and it saved the group from having to forage. As they travelled into the forests proper food would be harder to find. It was with that thought in mind that he continued. "About a thousand years after the beginning of the Third Age the name changed slowly, from Greenwood the Great to Taur-nu-Fuin." He said, naming the place in Sindarin. "Meaning the forest under deadly nightshade. Or, the Mirkwood."

"Ah." Balin bobbed his head in understanding as he pointed at the feed assumed it was from the Woodland Elves distancing themselves from the other Elvish settlements. Or after having been there, from the heavy accumulation of spider webs."

Elrohir smirked. "Those would work as well." He admitted.

The two worked quietly for some time until Balin sighed and shook his head. "Something bothers Tauriel."

"This is a treacherous journey." Elrohir commented without alarm, looking off toward the break in the trees where his nephew and betrothed had disappeared.

Balin nodded, then shook his head.

The gray-eyed elf didn't look surprised, for many things weighed heavily on his mind as well. He felt uneasy being separated from his own twin, especially with Elladan so weakened from his encounter with Sauron. He sighed heavily at the thought of THAT name. A menace to all life, indeed. But specifically a foul being looking murderously at all that Elrohir loved.

"I worry." Balin said cautiously.

"I too." Elrohir nodded very slightly in agreement.

o.o.o.o.o

Fili scowled darkly, a swipe of blood dried in thin streaks onto his face from where he'd run a hand over himself in battle to keep it out of his eyes. The blood wasn't his, and smelled foul. Just like its former owner.

His mood was dark and brooding as he toed the body at his feet, making sure the orc didn't move or groan to indicate that it somehow clung to life despite the multiple wounds left by Fili's own blades. Decades ago, while guarding trading caravans, he had learned a harsh lesson on assuming a downed enemy would stay down.

And there were scars to prove the point. Fili's face settled into a snarl as he pondered that particular scar, for it wasn't his.

Kili had that scar, nearly invisible now, near his left temple. Fili's fault, for making an erroneous assumption. Uncle Thorin had never been so angry. Neither had Dis or Dwalin when they'd heard of it either. Fili stalked over to one of Dain's lieutenants as his memories flashed through his mind.

No matter how angry his family had gotten, or how many onerous and humiliating chores that Thorin had heaped upon him afterward … no one had beat Fili up more over the incident, than Fili himself.

And Kili? The goof had grinned and laughed, ignoring the stitches their mam had put in and then started making up all sorts of heroic, and far-fetched stories of bravery and feats for him to explain away the scar later in life. Fili bit out a foul word as his eyes closed painfully for a moment. Heroic and far-fetched stories, but those tales had all been about them as a team. Fili and Kili. Never one without the other.

Seeing the foul-tempered expression on the crown prince's face, the professional soldier straightened up tighter than an iron rod fresh forged. He said nothing, waiting instead.

"Too easy." Fili looked around him in disgust as the dwarrow he'd brought along poked through the area. Giving mercy to the enemy and making sure none of their own were too badly hurt.

The soldier, nearly five decades older than the prince, also looked around. His eyes carefully turned away so that Fili couldn't read his thoughts in them.

Fili snorted. "I've had a lot of practice against Goblins and Orcs recently. Too much. This …this was a disorganized dung heap, not a battlefield.

The dwarrow carefully nodded, then shook his head. Cautiously he offered his thoughts. "Orcs are ill-disciplined and trained."

"Only the ones we've been allowed to fight whilst Sauron hid himself." Fili said, his voice firming as he nodded with emphasis. He'd spoken without true forethought, but now he realized just what was bothering him. "The attacks on Erebor where highly organized, well thought out, effective, and …now that I dwell on it, I believe that the skirmishes you and those of the Iron Hills have had over the last century, were more to lull you into thinking the enemy didn't have better. That he WASN'T building up his forces, since the world believed him long vanquished anyway."

The soldier's dark eyes widened with sudden realization, and a deepening of respect for the one who would one day be King Under the Mountain. "Aye. Aye, that makes sense. What we faced at Erebor was different than we've encountered before."

"Mordor no longer seeks to hide that he is back, and is growing stronger. Sauron no longer needs to hide his might from us. He must have done so initially to keep us from marching against his forces before they'd grown strong enough." Fili turned and spat to one side as he made a growling sound deep in his throat.

"I don't like to think of Mordor's Master as believing we don't have the strength to defeat him now."

"We don't." Fili admitted with far too much calm for what turmoil was in his head. "Not yet, and not alone." He turned away, his cold blue eyes sweeping over what was left of the orc and goblin force. "Deserters and derelicts. Or so we are supposed to think. We …I …won't be caught in the same trap a second time."

The soldier had a second to wonder what the prince meant when suddenly Fili swung and started giving the orders. Orders to bring the leader of the human settlement to him, immediately.

o.o.o.o.o

"Tauriel?" Kili called to her as the red-head refilled the water pouches she'd brought along. He was doing the same.

"Aye?" She answered, not really looking up.

Kili took a moment just to watch her. She was paying him little enough attention, but was on alert. She might look relaxed as she stood in the edge of the water, her long tunics tucked up into her belt and the water lapping at the toes of her travel boots.

Yet. He could tell she was on hyper-awareness by the way her head was up and her eyes moved around the area. A slight tension in her supple body showed him that she was ready to spring into action at any sign that such was necessary.

"Aye?" Tauriel finally turned her head toward him.

Kili gifted her with a wide grin despite his own exhaustion. Just looking at her energized him. "I love you."

Green eyes blinked twice in rapid succession and then she looked away, a slight blush forming near where her cheekbones started. He loved that he could do that to her.

"Not the time. Not the place." The red-head scolded him, though there was no heat of temper in her voice, in fact the glance she shot him was rather shyly pleased.

Kili groaned and rolled his tight shoulders, feeling the aches and pains of riding through the night on through half the next day. "I wanted to tell you, because I'm not sure when I'll have the chance again."

Hearing the cautious joking manner of his speech, Tauriel straightened. "What do you mean?"

"You, me, private moment?" Kili shrugged. "We'll be in the Mirkwood, surrounded by Balin and my father and uncle. And you'll be in the place that the last time you visited they didn't treat you well enough."

"Nor you." She whispered.

Kili's smile brightened as he chuckled. "You treated me right enough, except for the part of tossing my rather fine arse into a prison cell."

"Didn't toss."

"And don't deny that my arse is rather fine, either." He teased her outrageously even as she gave her eyes a roll and shook her head at him.

"Fool."

"Who is more the fool? Me? Or you for falling in love with me?" Kili continued even as he made short work of filling his own containers and those of Balin. "Do you have Elrohir's water?"

She nodded at him before pausing, her expression turning somewhat melancholy. "Kili? I can not guarantee your reception." In the Mirkwood, she meant, and it was clear he understood her unspoken meaning.

The half-dwarven prince stilled and nodded. He knew, they both did really. "Much depends on how the king treats us." He commented rather dryly.

Tauriel nodded without comment, though inwardly she winced. Thranduil. His moods were often mercurial in nature, and though he'd accepted her request for sanctuary well, it did not mean he would be a welcoming host.

Which is why he'd spoken now, inappropriate timing nor not. She gave a rueful half-smile. "I love you too."

Without further words the duo finished their tasks and headed back toward the others. They were both on watch, both cautious and alert. Since they both were warriors their hands were free, ready to pull a weapon if one should be needed.

So when his shoulder brushed her arm it wasn't an accident, nor was it a meaningless gesture. Her face blushed beet hot even as she nudged him back. He grinned victoriously even as they entered the clearing with the others.

o.o.o.o.o

"Impossible!" Blustered the middle-aged male human apparently in charge of the council that ruled this settlement. "Lad, lad, I'm sure you mean well enough. And you did a brilliant job routing the enemy, brilliant." He beamed in a patently flattering manner that seemed as oily as his dark hair. "But you must consider, we can't just evacuate the village. Leave everything behind on your word alone. Lad …."

"The 'lad' is older than you are." Fili bit out the words, his blue eyes burning brightly. He looked around the square situated in the center of what was clearly a prosperous looking place. He saw pale faces, but little understanding. "Erebor is Dwarven once more. The dragon is gone, dead, rotting." He grimaced at the murmur going through the town. "I'm not throwing you out of your homes, I'm inviting those who want to live to come to Erebor at least for now. Another attack is imminent."

"So you say."

"So I saw, so I know!" Fili thumped his chest hard, glancing behind him at Dain's warriors. At Bifur and Dori who backed him up. "We know." He made a sweeping gesture with one hand toward the Blacklock survivors. "They know."

Risil Blacklock nodded, stepping forward with a winning smile. "Humans, please. You took us in when we were in dire circumstances. Sheltered us. You saw our plight, our difficulties, and our injuries. Do you doubt that the enemy is on the move despite the winter weather?" She placed her hand lightly on Fili's forearm, lending him her support in the argument.

The crown prince gave her a quick glance of approval and gratitude as several Human voices rose up, wondering if he weren't right.

"If Prince Fili, heir to the throne of the Lonely Mountain, says that this is a trap …I believe." Risil dropped her eyes dramatically. "My brother and uncle may be lost, I do not know their fates, not yet. But I plan to lose no other." She turned to look at the survivors of the Blacklock warriors. "We will go to Erebor, and recover ourselves there. This invitation being offered to Humans? Unprecedented, but generous."

As a speech it wasn't over long, but it was to the point and rather convincing going by some of the comments being made among the humans. And even some of the Dwarves

Risil leaned closer to Fili's ear. "They took us in, but at a high cost in gems and gold-work." She said bitterly. "My brother and uncle?"

"Unknown." Fili whispered back his response. "We had word that there was an attack and the Blacklock forces were split and that would have been your message?"

"Aye." Her breath was warm against his ear, as the temperature dropped. He looked up at the sun travelling past midday. It was as if she'd read his mind. "We need to be moving."

"We will wait for Sil and his family." Dori said, clearly having been listening in.

Fili nodded, thinking of the lone dwarrow family they'd found living in this Human settlement.

Risil frowned. "They have young children and it will be a hard journey in this weather."

"We will not leave them to be slaughtered." Fili said harshly, sending her a cold look.

Risil backed down, holding up her hands. "I meant I worry over them, not that they should not come."

Fili stared at the striking dwarrowdam, though her eyes were no longer tinted with dark kohl and her clothes were no longer richly outfitted with gems. Clearly it had been she who had negotiated the dwarrow's safety here in this village following the ambush. His tone softened. "I apologize."

The dwarves turned to the Human leaders who were busy talking themselves into feeling safe. Fili growled and shook his head, he didn't know how much plainer he could state what was coming. "Dwarves attacked and left scrambling for safety instead of slaughtered? They were let go. Bait. For those of us in Erebor. It is a trap. And now that we are here, here is where they will concentrate another attack. If I'm wrong, you have a hard journey. If I'm right, you and yours will be food for the goblins."

The dark-haired leader of Men spat at Fili's feet, muttering about riling up the people for greedy gain. "You just want her payment back from us, and we're no fools!"

Dori scowled, but held his hand out in front of Bifur who actually had his hand on his weapon and was stepping forward. Fili sneered. "Be well then." He started to turn away, heartening to see Sil and his family hurrying toward them. They each carried packs, even the dwarflings except for the two in arms. He counted fourteen in all, knowing a dwarrow family usually ran large when adding in cousins and the like. "Good."

Sil walked up to him, a dwarrow leather-worker with a scar running the right side of his face. He hadn't said much when they'd arrived, just listened. He'd looked Fili up and down carefully and then had made his decision. Sil had chosen to follow the prince back to Erebor, and it looked like his family followed him without question. "Prince Fili? I know the mayor and the like aren't going to like what you have to say, but there are a few Humans, well … they don't have much."

"Can they work?" Fili asked and made a gesture of general acceptance. One thing he'd learned from the recent battles at Erebor. Racial isolation was a bad idea. Uncle may not like sheltering the Humans this winter, but if worse came to worse he could barter with Bard and shift them to Dale.

Sil grunted, pleased with the response. He gestured to two other dwarrow who seemed to relax a bit and they hurried off to gather the others. "It will add about seven more to our number."

"Twenty-one." Dori said aloud, making note as he turned and spread the word. "With the forty-eight Blacklock warriors …"

"Forty-nine." Risil said with a hint of a chuckle. "Though I don't count as a warrior."

"We don't have enough mounts." Dori finished. "We could stay here the night and gather more rides, or send for reinforcements."

Sil watched without saying anything, just watching for the prince's reaction. Fili didn't hesitate. "No. I fully expect a trap and this place is ill defended, and we don't have the high ground." His voice dripped with disdain, clearly passing judgement on the builders of the village.

Sil grunted and pointed toward the Lonely Mountain. "There are caves up that way big enough to hold us, and to defend. Not a hard climb, but narrow in places." He said, meaning that while not inaccessible the place he was mentioning would be difficult to attack in force.

"Cave?" Risil said hollowly, then straightened her shoulders. "Better than here."

"Aye." Fili nodded grimly and discussed the particulars with Sil as everyone made ready. He glared up at the sun, wondering how much of a grace period they had before Mordor sent his minions against them. He turned to Dori and Bifur. "Buy extra supplies, it'll be slow going back to Erebor, especially with the snow coming."

"The snows may not be that heavy." Risil said looking up dubiously at the sky with a measuring eye.

Fili grunted, not bothering to explain about Cirdan and his words of warning. He knew snow was coming, and soon. But there was worse out there than bad weather. He knew this too.

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin grimaced as he eyed the pile of rubbish and rubble, which was growing smaller with every cartful that he carried personally out of what had been a very fine study. He turned and eyed the books and other items he hoped to sort through and salvage what he could. The desk was beyond repair, as were most of the shelves and other mementos he'd accumulated in the brief time he'd been in residence.

Some pieces had belonged to his Grandfather, others to his father. A precious few had been treasures of Frerin's that Dis had brought with her from Ered Luin. Of those items, he was gratified that those belonging to his brother were more or less still intact.

He reached for yet another rock torn from his walls when he felt the ache in his muscles that signaled he'd been at this for a long time. Thorin wondered how long though.

Dwarves had a keen sense of time, even when living underground. So unerringly Thorin knew it was around sunset and he'd been at this for hours. He rubbed the back of his neck wearily, frowning and wondering about how empty he felt. Suddenly his stomach growled and Thorin nearly sighed, amused at himself. He was hungry.

Usually Balin would have nagged him into eating something well before now, but that estimable dwarrow wasn't here. And Ori, although clever, was not Balin. Thorin turned and saw the young dwarrow sitting on a stool, hunched over lists upon lists, quill in hand and using a broken slab of stonework for a makeshift desk. "Ori? Take a break and eat something."

The young warrior looked up and shook his head immediately. "I can keep going if you can. Er …sire."

Thorin nearly rolled his eyes as he shook his own head. "What I mean is grab yourself something, and grab something for me to eat as well."

"Oh." Ori said, then jumped up, several of his lists falling to the ground. He lit up bright red as he scrambled to pick them all up. Realizing that they were now out of order he tried to repair that, shuffling the parchment around and around and sticking the quill into his mouth. Immediately Ori made a face and took the quill back out, using his teeth to try and scrape the taste of ink off of his tongue … Thorin sighed heavily. "Oh, yes, sorry. Here." He sputtered and then handed the king a few of the lists.

"These can wait until they're done." Thorin started to say.

"They are done." Ori bobbed his head in a bird-like manner. "Except for the lists on repair needs for the private rooms, those are of less importance, or so I thought."

Surprised, sapphire eyes scanned over the parchments in his hands and he nodded while making approving noises. "I should have asked for your help sooner."

Ori smiled in relief, relaxing a bit even as he preened under the praise. "I was just about to go down and ask Bombur about what materials are available available, and which are available but buried, and what needs to be made or mined for. Not for immediate repairs, I have that information, but for the second tier repairs."

Thorin's eyebrows quirked upward, pleased. He nodded. "Food first, then yes, go. Well done, Ori. While you're at it, I want an update on Dwalin."

Ori pointed to a different sheet of parchment. Thorin shuffled to the one indicated and scanned the hand written text from Oin. He grunted in clear approval. "Good, good. Now about that message I asked sent to the main Blackstock holdings?"

"Raven went out this morning." Ori ducked his head. "No reply yet."

Thorin nodded, knowing a reply wouldn't be forthcoming yet as the bird probably hadn't even delivered the original message so soon. "Medical supplies will be low."

Ori looked around, going so far as to rifle through the parchments Thorin was still holding while frowning. He looked through his own and then spun, looking on the ground before he flushed and grabbed the list he was looking for off the makeshift desk, right where he'd left it. "Oin and Nuluin compiled a list each, and then there is those Mirkwood healers. The marked items are the ones each agrees on as a critical need. Actually they're all marked by level of importance and I've provided a key for the markings on the next page."

Thorin shook his head in wonder. "Ori. Go eat. Before you start anticipating my needs so much you end up being the actual King Under the Mountain."

The young dwarrow paled even as he shook his head in denial.

Thorin laughed and shooed the young warrior and scribe on his way. He pulled out several of the neatly written lists, scanning them. He whistled tunelessly under his breath, impressed.

A short knock on his …well, no, not the door but the few stones remaining that had marked the original doorway. Thorin scowled, until he saw the Heavyaxe daughter standing there with a full plate. "Come in, lass. I just sent Ori to get me some food."

"We didn't see you at what passed for either breakfast or lunch." The dark-haired dam said, careful not to sound like she was scolding. Only she was and Thorin knew it. He lifted a single eyebrow at her.

The lass blushed, but not as brightly as Ori had. Which only served to amuse him. He gestured toward the stone which his scribe had made into a desk of sorts.

Sealyn brought the food in, and a large mug of ale he was gratified to see. Though a lot of their stores had been crushed beneath roof fall. "The Lady Dis sent me, but I passed Ori on the way in and told him that I had your food."

Thorin nodded at her. The plate held wild rice with a fish fillet covered in some sort of sauce. There was bread, but not a lot and he knew their rations were slim despite the generosity of Cirdan's supplies. He was more than satisfied, however.

The inky-haired daughter of the Heavyaxe clan didn't leave him though. Thorin well recognized the signs of someone wanting to speak with him, but not wanting to be the one to speak first. He thought about dismissing the lass, but she had served well during the recent crisis and had been highly instrumental in the rescue of Fili. "You have something on your mind?" He asked, straight to the point.

"I have been thinking a lot about the taking of walks."

Surprised, Thorin gave her a long stare as he chewed his food. Walking? A round about reference to courting? "Anyone I know?"

Her pretty blush said yes, and her dropped gaze meant …what exactly? Not Fili or Kili. But who else was close kin to ….Oh. "Nori."

Her blush flew away as she stared at him, as if waiting on what he might say next. "He is hardly a dwarfling, and if he wants to walk he can walk."

Judging by the look in her eyes, he hadn't said the right thing. Thorin speared another bite of fish and used it as an excuse not to talk while his mind raced. Why would a dam be looking to ask him anything about Nori?

"I had heard you two had quarreled?" She refused to meet his eyes now.

Thorin nodded thoughtfully, finally starting to understand. Though, to be honest with himself, he wasn't sure how to answer her. "I am prone to quarrels."

She frowned and Thorin fought the urge not to just throw her out of the remains of his study.

"Why ask me?" He said, sounding surly even to his own ears.

"Well, Lady Dis …."

Thorin held up one hand to stop her, seeing that his sister must have sent the young dam to him. He stared at her a moment. Not wanting to have this conversation. Silly courting foolishness. "If you thought of walking with Nori, it would make him a very lucky dwarrow indeed."

Sealyn did not look like his answer cleared anything up for her, but he was done with the conversation and turned back to his food. He heard her move away, and then speak with someone out in the hallway. Looking up he spied Brunere with a sheaf of parchments. She hesitated until he gestured for her to come near.

Taking the parchments from her he scanned them quickly. Updates on all the wounded during the attack by Sauron as well as the goblins. Several had passed on to the Halls of the Waiting despite the best efforts of the healers, but more were getting better than he'd anticipated. He grunted in approval and signed off on them before handing the stack back to Brunere.

"Sire, my friend Sealyn …"

"Should ask her own questions." Thorin gave her an arch look that had this young dam backing off as well.

Peace and quiet. The king closed his eyes and finished his meal, taking the moment to wonder about how Fili and Kili were faring on their separate journeys.

A soft cough behind him had him scowling. He turned and then stopped. "Dis? This is ridiculous. I have no need to get involved with Nori's courtship and the dams have no right to corner me on the subject. Begone."

Dis raised her own eyebrow at him, and eyes that matched his turned cool with her temper. She glared right back at him. "I came to ask permission to shift one of the work groups from the forges to the kitchens. Bombur says it will be another day before he can even think of starting repairs, at the very least. And I could use those hands. But the dwarf in charge of scheduling is reluctant as you personally had assigned those groups."

Thorin gave her an apologetic look and shrugged. "I'll speak with him, you can change the assignments as needed as long as they don't interfere with critical repairs."

Dis nodded gratefully, then smiled. "Sealyn spoke with you about Nori did she?"

"She tried." Thorin frowned sharply, shaking his head. "Nonsense."

"It's not nonsense. She wants to know if Nori is reputable."

Thorin snorted in derision. "Not since he was swaddled as an infant."

Dis laughed, nodding as she thought of the dwarrow in question. "Are you at odds with him? Is the crown looking upon him in disfavor? Would it reflect on any sons they have if they should wed? Is his honor in question?"

"What? No." Thorin shook his head and sighed. "Tell her …I don't know what to tell her." His voice dropped and he gestured for his sister to move closer. "I have only love and respect for our kin. All of our kin."

"And this quarrel?"

"Is no one's concern but between that of me and him." Thorin said, then grimaced. "He is doing me a favor beyond what mere treasure can repay and no one should know it."

"Ah."

"Including the Heavyaxe lass." The king said pointedly. "Unless they wed."

Dis knelt down next to her brother as he sat. "Problem. She might not think him suitable for marriage, not with him looking like he's grabbing for money and riches and being a rotten, ungrateful, boor."

"Dis …." He drew out her name, grumbling with a temper still only on simmer. The food had helped. "Can't she tell he's more than his reputation? If she can't it doesn't reflect well on her."

She swatted his arm with a cross look. "Don't be daft, Thorin. Of course she can tell, that's why she's confused. If he acted like his reputation suggested, she wouldn't have to ask you about him."

Oh. Right. Thorin rolled his head back, looking at the jagged edges of what used to be a painted mural on his ceiling, complete with silver, gold and mithral inlays. "I thought I was through with courting nonsense with your sons out from under the mountain."

She ignored his verbal baiting. "Nori."

"Tell her, if she were to allow him to court and marry her. I would dance at their wedding." Thorin sighed and then nodded, happy with his decision.

"As long as they don't wed before Erebor's defenses are in place?" Dis guessed, and then smiled sadly to herself as her brother nodded at her.

"It seems to be the thing to have long betrothals right now."

Dis stilled, her expression frozen as she sighed. "I may have sent her off with Kili, but that does not mean that I am alright with him having three of her beads. It was to keep him, them, safe."

Them. Thorin knew without asking that she meant Fili and Kili. Not Kili and Tauriel. "Be at peace, sister. It will be a long time before he will be ready to marry."

Dis grunted unhappily, but at least wasn't railing at him about the she-elf. Deliberately she turned the subject. Somewhat. "With Balin out with Kili, I should meet up with Erelinde. Start to see how she would shape up as a queen."

Thorin shook his head, eying his sister warily. "He pointed at her. Fili has thawed toward you but I doubt all is forgiven. Best you play hands-off the lass for right now. Dwalin will take his place."

"Why? Dwalin is a fine warrior and a wonderful dwarrow, but how can you think he's capable of teaching a crafting dam on how to become a queen?"

Because Cirdan saw it. Thorin bit his tongue to keep from saying that to his sister. Dis may have thawed somewhat in relation to the elves, but he knew better than to throw fuel on this particular fire. Then again, why should HE trust in Cirdan's words? Just because the elf had a beard didn't make him an expert on dwarven politics.

But telling his sister to go ahead and meet with Erelinde seemed like a breach of trust. With Fili. He eyed his sister as she looked at him questioningly. His gaze softened. "Dwalin is recovering and needs this. Fili won't be marrying any time soon, we have too much rebuilding to do and I need you. Let our cousin instruct her at least over the winter, what possible harm could it do?"

Dis nodded, knowing there were more critical things to be done in order to rebuild the kingdom. "You're right, of course."

o.o.o.o.o

"Give up our weapons?" Balin sputtered as the elvish guards made their demands.

Kili scowled and shook his head. "We are invited guests of your king."

"And guests don't need weapons, it would be a poor reflection on us if we could not protect those who visit." The guard bowed smoothly.

Tauriel frowned, knowing the guard well and knowing he'd probably practiced this small speech.

Elrohir pulled out his daggers first, then his sword. He lowered his head deferentially, but kept his eyes up and on the guards. It was obvious he was doing this under duress, though no words did he speak. "My brother and the wizards?"

"Already arrived." The guard dipped his own head lower than Elrohir had. "In the healing halls."

Balin scowled, but surrendered his weapon. Kili did the same, but did not reach to pull out either of the daggers hidden in his boots.

The guard turned to Tauriel last, but stumbled over his words when asking for her blades. He paled as he spoke, and when he was finished he was nearly whispering. It was obvious that he wasn't comfortable with what he was asking. Which meant, the order had come from above him. Knowing that, Tauriel gave him her blades. At least the ones she carried on her. The ones in her travel packs she did not mention. Nor did she tell the guards that Kili had more weapons on him.

"Are you sure that these are all?"

Tauriel lifted her chin in derision. "Are we to be searched as …guests?"

"Of course not!" The guard stammered, backing off immediately.

"Then why is the way still blocked?" Elrohir murmured in an even voice. He watched in satisfaction as the guards cleared the way for them. He gestured for them to lead. "As a guest, I have not the pleasure of knowing my way around. Please, lead on."

It was smoothly done in Kili's estimation, and kept the guards from being armed and at their backs. He grinned. Clever Elrohir.

"We knew not exactly when you would be arriving, but food is available you but have to ask."

Kili nodded, not feeling anything wrong in the words but not liking how Tauriel's lips thinned.

Again, it was Elrohir who spoke up. "We ask for nothing beyond what might be freely shared."

Oh. It was something to do with the word 'ask' though Kili wasn't sure what was going on. He looked at Balin, who shrugged at him. He didn't know either.

Tauriel paused in front of a corridor, but the guards did not turn in that direction. She mentally called herself a fool and moved onwards. Of course she wouldn't stay in her old rooms. Habit, centuries of habit. They travelled on to larger, more well-appointed rooms.

"Lord Elrohir, you have this room. Next to you is Tauriel." The guard gestured smoothly.

"Lady Tauriel." Balin corrected with a grandfatherly smile. "She is betrothed to a prince after all."

The guard's eyes widened almost comically as his gaze flew to Tauriel, who did not return his regard. "Betrothed?" The she-elf inclined her head with aching slowness.

"Yes, well." The other guard seemed hesitant now as he gestured toward a third room. "Master ….well, the room was set aside for Dwalin who has stayed here before."

Kili dropped his travel bags in the corridor. Damn, he was tired. He'd been feeling hollowed out ever since …well, Sauron.

"I am Balin, his brother. Last minute changes, as it were." The white-bearded dwarrow. "And the room across from me is for Kili?"

"Kuilaith." The Elvish name for Kili was stressed. "Has different accommodations. That was for Glorfindel who is not with you?"

"More changes." Kili muttered, not happy with the cool welcome and the subtle digs he wasn't even aware of. Were they not supposed to ask for food or anything else while here? He needed to get up with either Elrohir or Tauriel and find out. "Where is my room? And don't say the one I occupied the last time I was here." He snarked.

Elrohir, knowing the story of his nephew's imprisonment, smiled at the jibe. Until the guard said a word that wiped all amusement off of his face.

Kili looked up, confused. Tauriel's face had gone pale and her eyes had hardened. He rolled the Sindarin word around in his head, but it wasn't familiar to him. He said it softly and shrugged. "Something wooden and young."

"He can stay in Glorfindel's room, or mine." Elrohir said brusquely.

"We have our orders." The guard sounded a little less than thrilled.

Kili sighed and waved a hand in between the guard and his uncle. "Alright. I'm tired, so let's cut through this knot and unravel it all. It's an insult of some kind? Yes. You delivered it. Fine. Now. Here's the crux of the matter. I don't care. I might care tomorrow, but for tonight I just don't. If you want to be a child and play who can hit the hardest, or throw the farthest, we'll do that. Later. I'm tired. Sauron attacked my home, me, and nearly killed my father. I'm not playing. I am a guest of your King and I am a prince in my own right. So leave off."

The guards stared at him, and he at them. They blinked first.

Elrohir gestured for him to take what would have been Glorfindel's room and Kili walked inside with a regal nod of his head. At the door he turned and looked at the guard. "Aren't you going to bring my things?"

Tauriel fought not to laugh as the guards who'd tried to put Kili down instead went to fetch his dropped travel packs.

o.o.o.o.o

The snow had begun before they'd gone a few feet from the Human settlement. Flurries of wet, white flakes had swirled around them lightly at first but then solidifying into a never-ending stream of accumulation. Ice stung cheeks and all exposed skin.

Those walking had the harder time. Fili tried to give his mount to one of the dwarrowdams holding an infant, but she'd demurred at first, saying she didn't know how to ride.

The crown prince wasn't to be denied however, and he'd settled her and two of more of the younger dwarflings in front of her with stern instructions not to let go of the horse's mane.

Others followed his lead and soon the young and the female were all mounted. Except for Risil Blacklock. She moved up beside the prince as they began the steep ascent to the caverns Sil had suggested for camp tonight.

She said nothing, and neither did he. Not for the first mile or two.

"Thank you."

The silence had stretched on for so long, it took him a moment to digest that she'd spoken. Much less what she'd said. "For what?"

"When last we saw each other we were not friendly. Yet you answered my call for help."

Fili grimaced and nodded, thinking of the anger he'd had when sending off the Blacklocks. He wondered if her brother and uncle still lived. "You tried to drug my uncle."

"He needs a wife."

"If he so chooses. He did not." Fili countered her words.

Risil sighed unhappily. "Yes, it would be a gain to my clan to wed the King Under the Mountain. But beyond that, Thorin does need a wife. A helper. A queen."

"Not by those means." The crown prince said tightly.

"My uncle's means." She said with a light shrug.

Fili shrugged. He didn't know if she were telling the truth, but decided it didn't really matter. "You went along with it. And you were rude and judgmental, and …"

"And yes, to all those things." Risil laughed at herself, shaking her head. "That's what I mean. I was all of those things, and yet you still came out here to save us. Me."

"You were right the first time. It was all of you, not just you." Fili said, though not meanly. He shrugged. "We'd just been attacked by Sauron, nearly had the mountain pulled down around us. Literally. I wasn't about to let Mordor claim more dwarrow lives. Not even if they didn't belong to Durin's line."

"So. Again, I say …thank you." She smiled at him, her dark eyes tracing his face in the growing shadows. "We gave you no good reason to come to our aid, and thus …we owe you. I owe you."

Fili shrugged, then brought his head up as he was called by those leading the way. He hurried forward after handing the reins of his mount to another warrior. Risil followed him, though he paid her little enough heed.

There was a break in the rocks and stones that overlooked the valley below. They weren't up very high, only maybe five miles from where they'd started. The view though.

"Damn." He heard Risil whisper, her voice horrified.

White covered all, and the red was hungry. Cirdan's prediction halted his breath as he watched the town burn, overrun. His throat ached and his eyes hurt for all those left behind. He'd tried. He'd tried to tell them, warn them.

Risil made a distressed sound, her eyes showing her horror at the sight of needless slaughter though no details could be made out. Thankfully. She stumbled and would have fallen if Fili hadn't caught her arm. Suddenly she was clinging to him, her face buried against his chest.

Fili awkwardly held her, though his attention was on the town below. Then he turned and gave orders to the warriors around him. They moved off to hurry those with them, going higher. They needed to be away and in a better defensive position. Soon.

Risil whimpered. Fili pushed her loose, but not harshly. He looked into her tear-damp eyes. "We have to be away."

"My brother?" She whispered, her emotions raw and open on her face.

Fili felt that plea right through him to the heart of his soul. He too had a brother out there. Somewhere.

o.o.o.o.o

Kili looked up at the tap on the door, slightly surprised to see his uncle rather than Tauriel.

"That was well done." Elrohir said with quiet pride. "And if you weren't aware. What they said was that they'd put aside a room for you. In the nursery."

"Ah." Kili nodded, too tired to feel the insult yet. He grimaced. Alright, so yes, it was insulting. His temper started to flare.

Elrohir laughed at him. "You already took care of it. Basically calling them childish and foolish and looking far more adult than they did despite the reality of their age."

"Oh." Kili calmed a bit, even as he sighed. "Are we not supposed to ask for food or whatever? Is that bad?"

The tall elf Lord shrugged. "A guest shouldn't have to ask, their needs should be tended. If you ask for something you would be fine. But for them to tell you that you had to ask was insulting."

"Makes zero sense." Kili muttered. "And that is not the dwarven way. If you had to ask for anything in Erebor, it wasn't meant as an insult." He grinned suddenly. "Although I never asked you if you'd been insulted by anyone at Erebor. I just assumed you had been, being elves and all."

Elrohir barked out a laugh and nodded. "Understood."

Kili looked at his uncle. "I'm glad you're here." He said, suddenly solemn. "Now. I need to see Elladan. My father. I want to see my father."

His uncle nodded at him even as he spoke. "I thought you were exhausted."

"I am, but I won't be able to rest until I see him and know he is resting."

Elorhir's gray eyes softened as Kili turned away toward the door. "I confess, I will rest better knowing my brother to be healing. Come, let us find the way."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	64. In which there are history lessons

The dreams wouldn't leave him alone.

Dwalin son of Fundin was a warrior born and bred. Fear wasn't to be shied away from, but embraced and overcome. Battles weren't won by the fearless, but the smart and those with the strength and willpower not to allow that fear to become a barrier. Instead to use it as a goad, a prod to move ever forward. Those without fear were foolhardy. Those with bravery were those who did know fear, and moved past it, each and every time. Before or after battles won and lost, with the blood of friends and family spilled and lives torn asunder. Dragons, goblins, orcs, and foul creatures of every kind were not things that surprised Dwalin. He counted on life to be dangerous and rough. He expected danger and was ever ready for whatever life threw at him.

But how do you fight dreams you can't even remember?

"By Nain's hairy ass." The warrior muttered, wiping his bald head and finding himself dripping with sweat, his heart racing and every nerve in his body begging to move. To leap clear and be away. Fear. Yet the contents of his dream slipped away like water on a shoreline. Unfocused and yet sickening all the same.

His foot throbbed, offering a bitter counterpoint to his heart and the sour taste of bile was in his mouth. He swallowed heavily several times, trying to keep his stomach in check. Dwalin wondered if Mordor's poison were gifting him these dreams, and if so why were they still banging around his head AFTER he'd received the so-called cure? Had Kili dreamt like this? Did the lad still?

Gratefully he was alone. He'd insisted on returning to his own chamber rather than staying in the healing hall. Not Oin and certainly not Nuluin could keep Dwalin where he didn't want to be. Though he expected one or the other of them to come and check on him soon, judging by the time. With that in mind he rose, basically hopping over to a pitcher of tepid water and pouring out enough for a meager wash-up. He didn't want to go to the communal baths. He was a brave soul, but he was also a proud one. He didn't want to be seen like this.

Dwalin supposed he was lucky for the privacy. A lot of rooms had been damaged by Sauron's attack on Erebor. His brother Balin's own chambers had been badly hit and the Dwalin had made room for him here with him without being asked.

Balin. The bald warrior scowled. His brother was on the journey that HE was supposed to be undertaking. Guarding Kili and his elf father. Now he was stuck in Erebor playing nursemaid to a simpering ninny who thought she could be a queen. Twit. Ball of goose feathers, that one. Pretty enough, but no bite to her. Which made her useless to Dwalin's way of thinking.

He turned to grab some clothing and frowned. His chest was nearly empty. Oh. Dwalin sighed. He didn't have much to begin with, only what he'd brought along on the original quest. Most of his gear had been packed into the saddlebags for his journey with Kili. Prince Kili. Damn it, he should be with them.

He grabbed a shirt with a rip in it and some clothing that he'd already worn but hadn't cleaned yet. It's not like he could wear Balin's clothing. Suddenly he chuckled, thinking of his poor sibling stuck with HIS clothing and gear.

He started to step into the pants, forgetting himself and putting too much weight on his injured foot. The pain was immediate and immense. Dwalin went down hard, catching at the clothing chest only slowed his descent a fraction, it didn't stop him from greeting the floor unceremoniously.

Breathing heavily and his vision fogging, he stilled. Nauseating waves of pain washed over him and he took some deep breaths, trying to clear his head and push out the stabbing torment from his wound. Slowly he held out a hand and found it wasn't as steady as usual. He clenched his fist to keep from seeing the fine tremors in his fingers.

"No."

With what seemed like excruciating slowness, he gathered his wits and his self-control, climbing to his feet. Foot. Grimacing and pale, Dwalin stood on his one good foot, keeping his left one bent at the knee and taking no weight upon it.

It was awkward dressing while standing on only one leg, but he managed with a great many curses under his breath and only a few hurled across the empty room.

Dwalin perched upon the side of his bed to pull one boot on and was debating what to do with his wounded leg when a soft knock sounded at the door. One of the healers no doubt. "Come." He barked out the word gruffly.

Glorfindel walked in carrying a tray of food looking elegant and haughty despite wearing only every-day trousers with a barely embroidered tunic. Still, it was dyed in several different soft blues in some sort of pattern that probably only made sense to elves. Dwalin sneered. "I don't need you to bring me food to break my morning fast."

"I didn't." The golden-haired elf lord smirked, sitting the tray down on top of Balin's clothes chest and sitting next to it. "This is for me, I just came to watch the entertainment."

Dwalin sneered, knowing the lie was there though not evident in Glorfindel's voice. Still, the ancient elf started eating HIS bacon. "Give."

"So churlish." Glorfindel murmured, but slid the tray over closer to the bald warrior. "Mayhap I'll share." They ate for several minutes before the elf waved in a grand gesture that bespoke of grace of elegance. "Sleeping well? Pain not too terrible?"

Dwalin cocked one eyebrow and gave a gimlet stare to the elf, admitting nothing.

Glorfindel shrugged and nibbled at a piece of cheese as if it had every iota of his attention. He did not even glance at Dwalin. "I've known several to have been wounded with fell poisons over the years. Some even recovered."

"Morgul shafts?"

"Nay." Glorfindel admitted slowly, finishing off the cheese bit and reaching for something oddly colored and wrinkled. He took a bite, humming a bit under his breath. "Cirdan must be over fond of apricots. There are a lot of them dried and preserved in his supplies that he left."

"Or not fond at all, which is why there are so many. To get them out of the Gray Havens and far away from him." Dwalin countered in a sarcastic tone.

Surprised, Glorfindel drew back and studied the piece of dried fruit in his hand. "You might be right. I had not considered." He popped the remainder in his mouth, chewing completely and swallowing before speaking further. "Our gain."

Our. Hmph. Dwalin made a noncommittal sound. He rolled his read and reached for some of the cheese himself. He spoke around the mouthful, drawing a small smile and sigh from the elf warrior. "So. You know about these wounds?"

"Not personally, but enough." Glorfindel gave a deliberate shudder. "Different people react in various ways. But the pain is known to be tremendous, though it will have eased some since you've been treated."

Dwalin nodded and then scowled. "You're going to make me ask about the dreams, aren't you?"

"Some react thusly." The elf gave a slow blink and reached for another apricot.

Dwalin, already with his hand out for some of the bread took the piece of fruit instead, popping it whole into his mouth.

Golden hair shimmered as the elf laughed and shook his head at his erstwhile companion. "Do you even like apricots?"

"Food is food." The bald dwarrow commented as he chewed. Then he made a face and shook his head. "Not bad."

"Not everyone so wounded has such fell dreams, if such is what you are referring to. Not that you'd admit to anything of the sort."

Dwalin snorted.

Glorfindel shook his head and took another piece of dried fruit. He peered at it a moment. "Green." He sounded unsure.

"Grape?"

"Too big, and that would be a raisin." Glorfindel sighed and sniffed the food for a moment, shrugging. He took a bite. Coughing, he chuckled. "Not a fruit. Dried pepper, a sweet one though. Cut into pieces I should think, before drying."

"Without admitting to anything …." Dwalin's voice trailed off.

The tall elf shrugged negligently. "I can't answer a question that is not asked. But if I were to speculate, then I would say that it will pass. If a person so wounded gets attention swiftly, then I do believe such a phenomenon would not persevere."

"Lot of fancy words." Dwalin drawled, picking up the mug of hot tea with a sigh. He sniffed, it smelled of spices and green growing things. But he was thirsty and was not about to complain.

Glorfindel slid an amused glance over at the dwarf looking surly. "On the contrary, I am a most plain-spoken individual."

"For an elf."

"Indeed." Glorfindel smiled. "Although there are some herbal recipes that would ease such things, though it mostly helps with the pain and speeds the healing. I do believe Nuluin might have made some up for you."

"I am in no need." Dwalin sneered, finishing off his tea with a shrug.

"Well. Now you're not." Glorfindel held out his hand for the empty mug.

Dwalin's gaze turned suspicious. He glanced at the mug, then at the elf and he sighed unhappily. "Foul."

The elf lord raised an eyebrow. "I know nothing of what you cry foul. You have admitted to no weaknesses, and thus have not been given medicine to address such things. If you don't complain, then you don't get dosed. Simple."

Dwalin growled low in his throat, not believing the denial for one instant.

"I doubt that you would want to rest today, keeping your foot up." Glorfindel continued, pushing some of his long golden hair behind one ear. "And Cirdan did say we had royalty to train up."

Something earthy and pithy was said aloud, calling for the completion of certain acts.

Glorfindel's eyes rounded and he smiled. "Is that even anatomically possible?"

"Why don't you try it and find out?" Dwalin said, surly.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Although he'd already been to check on his father the previous night, Kili was back in the Mirkwood healing halls again early. It appeared he wasn't the only one.

"Uncle."

Elrohir looked around, smiling easily, which told the young brunet that Elladan's condition was better. Last night his father's face had been ashen, with lines of pain around his eyes and mouth though he'd denied all. The trek on the rabbit sled had obviously taken something of a toll.

"Kuilaith." The voice didn't belong to his uncle.

Kili smiled, moving closer and saw his father pushing to sit upright. He hurried forth to offer a hand, but the elf lord shook his head at him. "I'm fine."

"Better, yes. Fine, no." Elrohir said dryly in a tone that did not sound displeased.

Kili looked around, finding they were inside with no windows. He frowned.

"Kuilaith?" Elladan asked, seeing his son's expression.

"There's no light."

Neither elf pointed out the gently glowing lanterns nor the hearty fire in a nearby hearth. They knew what Kili was referring to. Elrohir smiled easily. "This place is infused with light. It fairly radiates these chambers. The materials here were sung with power and joy and light freely given, it makes a most excellent bower in which to recover."

Light didn't just mean that which illuminated. Oh. Kili blinked, a bit embarrassed actually. He rocked back on his heels, feeling out of place. "So, you're feeling better?"

"Much, son. I thank you. Though I am still unsure of this plan of yours. I want you safe, yes, but not separated from all those …who hold you dear. Would you not reconsider travel to Lothlorien or Rivendell? They would protect you."

"At what cost?" Kili shook his head, spreading his hands. "Protecting me from Sauron would be expensive in blood and deplete the forces necessary to bring him to defeat. Only not knowing where I am will keep Mordor's eye from those places, and peoples."

"This argument has already been debated and decided." Elrohir's hand moved to cover that of his twin. "Be at peace on the matter. We have to abide in the Mirkwood for a time anyway, at least through the winter."

"Because of me." The words were calmly spoken, but Kili thought he could detect some bitterness there. He frowned strongly at his father. "You can still be away."

"You were injured because of me. Saving my life." Kili moved forward, right next to the bed and staring intently into his father's face. "I …I wanted to bring you somewhere with light, so you could heal. You nearly died, and that was for me."

Elrohir slipped back a few feet, watching with a smile as son and father spoke, their eyes only on each other. A healer moved forward and the gray-eyed elf shook his head, making a gesture for silence. He didn't want anyone interrupting the duo, not yet. He turned and led the healer further away, giving space and privacy to those in need.

"I cannot offer you enough thanks."

"None would be accepted. I did what I did for you because my heart has no barriers to you." Elladan said with quiet conviction.

"Because I am your son." Kili sat down at the edge of the bed.

"No. Because I care for you, love you. That may not have come about if you weren't my son. But love is not a given, not even between parent and child. We are Noldor, mostly." Elladan gave a weak smile.

Kili sighed with mock heaviness, shaking his head even as his eyes laughed. "You say that like I know what it means. I can say to another Dwarf, 'we are stone' and it carries much more than just those three words. It has an entire history weighing it down. You say, I have the blood of the Noldor, but I don't know what that means other than that you are my father."

Elladan nodded carefully, a smile playing over his lips. "So wise for one so young and unable to sit still for more than a few moments time."

Kili crossed his eyes, drawing an actual laugh from his father.

"Dwarves like stories, yes? Come. I will tell you some stories of old. Of the Noldor and what it means to dwell as one of their number." Watching his son as he was, Elladan could fairly see the instant distress in those dark, melting eyes. "Oh, I promise much bloodshed and fighting. Nothing boring."

The young brunet blew out a breath and shrugged. "It's not all harp music and green foods, right?" He thought about it and then he got an idea. "What do you know ….about the Two Trees?" He asked, rather unfairly he was sure, since Elladan probably did not yet know what his son had 'seen'.

Elladan's eyebrows rose and he shook his head. "We can start there. That will lead directly to Feanor and the curse of Mandos."

"Oh, a curse. Grand!" Kili grinned, anticipatory.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

They were running a cold camp. In the winter in the middle of what was a winter storm, if not quite a blizzard, that meant the camp was very cold indeed.

Risil Blacklock rubbed her cold hands together vigorously in an effort to generate some sort of warmth, and then stuffed them back into her travel gloves. She looked around, surrounded by two other dwarrowdams, both matrons. Both with dwarflings of various ages. It pained her to see the worry on their faces as they cuddled the young ones close, even feeding those still in arms. She was self-aware enough to know her relief at not being among them was petty, but it was real too.

"All is well?"

Risil spun, surprised to see a weary looking Prince Fili behind her. He was looking at her, then his glance flickered over the others. Did he think she was in charge? These dams weren't even Blacklocks. Still, she straightened. "They do as they must, as will we all." She temporized.

"It doesn't appear that the orcish army is pursuing us up here." Fili's blue eyes were intense upon her face, as if weighing what he knew of her against all that needed to be done.

Risil's backbone straightened further. Last she'd seen this prince of Erebor had been moony over a pretty blonde crafting dam. Yet he was marked as heir to one of the grandest thrones in the Dwarven world. He wasn't his uncle, but he was close enough to the crown to spit. If he was looking for a right hand, she could provide. "What do you need?"

"An accounting, of what we have need of to get these people to Erebor."

The Blacklock heiress nodded her understanding. Indeed, she really was quick. Fili wasn't looking at her to count supplies or the needs of the men, he'd know that cold. It was the dam and dwarfling needs he'd be unsure of. "You. To get us out of here." She let her eyes widen and her mouth soften as she stepped closer, though she made no move to touch him. That would have been a step too far.

"Milk? Foods?"

Risil shook her head at him, gratified that he was at least young, strong and handsome. That helped. So too did the fact that she'd seen him on the battlefield, cutting through orcs like soft butter. Her earlier impressions of him hadn't been quite up to the mark, though she still deemed him too close to that brother of his. The thought brought her up short, nearly making her lose her breath. Where was her own brother? Did he yet live or was he Waiting in the Halls now?

"We need naught but to be away." One of the other dwarrowdams had moved up beside her, blatantly inserting herself into the conversation. "We have the milk we need for the two youngest." She said, bouncing the young infant in her arms a bit who woke enough to wave a chubby arm. Which the mother quickly replaced within the warmth of the blankets covering nearly all of the child. "The others, we have what provisions we carry, unless the journey proves too long."

Fili nodded, satisfied. "We will be leaving within the half hour." He promised. "This way may take a day or two longer, but it is safer and the paths narrow enough to be better defended. Though it will be treacherous. I want a warrior assigned to each dam and dwarfling, for safety and to keep track. You may choose among you know, but if they are crafter, not warrior then I will reassign. I want a fighter with each."

The dams both blinked. It was unusual for dwarflings so young to be out and about among strangers. What Fili was demanding was unorthodox, but it was entirely sensible.

A tug on Fili's heavy tunic had him looking down at a young dwarfling of no more than ten years or so. "Can I choose you?"

"That wouldn't be wise." Risil said coolly, hoping to put herself forward as companion to the prince. "He can't be behind with the babies."

But Fili was a big brother and knew about young male pride. He knelt, unmindful of his fine leathers as he stared into the stubborn eyes of one who wanted to be seen as grown already. "I have to be in the front, leading. One day that might be a position you will have to perform. In the meantime, I have an important assignment for you. Which is your mam?"

The young lad pointed behind him at the worried looking dam still feeding an infant.

Fili nodded sagely, his facial expression moving to stern disapproval. "Would you leave your mam and sibling to be guarded by a stranger?"

The dwarfling's eyes widened in instant distress. He shook his head madly.

"She will need you to keep her and the babe in sight, it will be a hard journey and whatever she needs you will have to be in charge of providing. Your father?"

"Sil! I'm Desil." The child thumped his chest proudly.

"Well, Desil. Your father has charge of everyone and will need you to ride herd on your mam and the baby." Fili smiled at him. "I need that from you too. It's an order." He leaned in closer. "And I'm a prince, I can give orders."

The child didn't look enthusiastic, in fact he went so far as to shake his head. He obviously didn't like being deterred. "My brother can do all that. Can't I go with you?"

Risil nearly rolled her eyes while listening. The dwarfling had an obvious hero-crush on the prince. Only to be expected really, of a lad raised among limited dwarrow, all family members and crafters for the most part.

"You would leave your brother to do all the hard work?" Fili asked, deliberately starting to look cross in order impress upon the child that he was choosing the wrong path to get what he wanted.

The dwarfling began to shake his head, clearly no longer sure, but still wanting to follow the warrior.

"When we get back to Erebor, I will make sure that you get all the proper training so that when you next go on an adventure, you can be in front. But not yet."

"My brother too?" The dwarfling asked, in the half-belligerent that only the very young can do and still look adorable.

Fili smiled warmly. "Erebor is a kingdom of dwarves, not a Human settlement. No more living on the outskirts, this will be a fine place for any and every dwarfling. You can learn and grow and choose your own profession with a multitude of mentors and teachers. You will know what it means to be Khazad, not in scattered pockets, but surrounded by your own people."

Desil's eyes turned serious and he leaned forward to share something private, though he clearly didn't know how to whisper yet. "Da tells stories of Erebor, and that there's a dragon there. He says it's dead. Did you kill it?"

"It is dead." Fili nodded most solemnly now. "I saw it die. Though I was there, the death blow came not from me. But I was definitely there, and I fought against the orcs, wargs and goblins that followed in its wake."

The child stared at the blond prince in awe.

Risil watched the duo, her feelings mixed. The child was hardly of noble blood, but it was right and proper to be kind and gracious. But the 'prince' had grown up in just as mean of circumstances, from what her Uncle had told her. So of course Fili would be more accommodating towards those who were lesser. Had she dismissed the thought of the nephew too soon? "Come." She said with a flourish. "Let the prince get ready. He will lead us to safety."

Fili sent her an approving look, under which she preened a bit. Kind and gracious. She could do that. Risil was no fool. Much as she disapproved of Erebor's heirs in the general sense, they WERE the heirs. And it was a very rich kingdom. Powerful too, if not now it would be in the near future. And yesterday had shown her there was more to the blond warrior, he had an inner fortitude that she found appealing.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Erlinde looked up briefly, sparing barely a glance at the elf and dwarrow as they neared her. It wasn't until they stopped just shy of her that she realized they were wanting to speak with her specifically.

She signaled the dwarrow she was working with for a quick breather, the two Iron Hills warriors smiled, grateful for a short break. The blonde took a handkerchief that had been tucked into the waistband of her dusty trousers and she frowned at it as it was less than fresh. Still, she wiped her face of sweat and grime, leaving small tendrils of hair stuck alongside her cheek bones and forehead. "Sirs." Her sky-blue eyes sliding back and forth between them, her tone cautious as she and Dwalin hadn't spoken since the day of Fili's rescue.

"Need to speak with ya, lass." Dwalin growled with some reluctance, favoring his left leg considerably.

It was ungracious to call attention to an injury, thus Erelinde didn't mention the large white wrapping around his foot. "Alright."

Dwalin peeked over and upwards at Glorfindel, who simply looked amused. "Not here. We need to pull you away for something."

Erelinde's eyebrows rose and she looked at the scrub bucket and brush she was currently holding. "Now?" She asked. "I'm trying to get these baths clean and ready for use. There are a lot of hard working dwarrow that would appreciate a chance to get cleaned up and not have to rush through with cold water only."

Glorfindel's lips compressed in a way that hinted he was trying not to smile.

"Gotta teach you." Mumbled Dwalin. "King's order."

"Request." The elf slid in the word.

"Same thing." Dwalin said, and to his mind those were the same thing. Thorin wanted him training Erelinde, he would not shirk the duty. No matter how distasteful.

"Teach me what?" Erelinde looked a bit lost.

"Who were the seven fathers, and what clans …." Dwalin stilled as Erelinde looked down. "Are you listening?"

"Excuse me." Erelinde sounded sweet enough, though her voice was on the cool side. Polite. "A history lesson? When there are hungry, injured, and hard-working dwarves in need right now?"

Dwalin growled at her in a manner that cowed most warriors. She simply blinked at him, drawing back only slightly as she shook her head. "If you wed Fili, you cannot be in arears with your education."

Blue eyes stared at him a moment in disbelief, then she tossed her brush to him. "Help us clean, and I'll answer." She lifted her chin, as if daring him to use his injury as an excuse.

Dwalin looked around in distaste at the filthy bathing pools badly in need of repair. Then again, he himself would dearly have loved a good soak. He nodded grimly."

She turned her gaze onto Glorfindel, who looked amused and torn at the same time. He shrugged, but when she started to hand him a bucket he simply raised one elegant eyebrow. "Are you staying or going?"

Dwalin and she turned and looked up at the taller elf lord. Glorfindel sighed and shrugged.

Erelinde blinked at him. "Have you ever tried whipped cream?"

The golden-haired elf stilled. "What?"

"The funny thing is, speaking with Tauriel, she is used to something called clotted cream. But we dwarves …." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Add air bubbles to our cream, it makes it light and fluffy."

Glorfindel blinked slowly, a smile tugging on his lips. "Are you trying to tempt me into helping?"

"Yes." She handed him a bucket filled with soapy water.

"What do you do with your bubbly cream?" He asked, not yet taking the bucket, his own eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Well, I have oatmeal soaking and I have a bit of honey and whiskey on hand." Erelinde cocked her head on a slight angle.

Dwalin's head popped up. "Cranachan?" It was obvious she had his attention now, which sharpened the elf's attention as well.

"Worth it?" Glorfindel asked the dwarrow, looking pointedly at the scrub brush in the warrior's hand.

"No." Dwalin's face clouded. "Go away."

"Aw. You just don't want me hearing dwarven history." Glorfindel chided. "And you're still hot about this morning. Still and all, I could take myself off and help with building the defenses."

"Cirdan said you'd be helping to shape her up too." Dwalin snarked, then scowled as he realized he wanted the elf away from all talk of dwarven history and politics. "Never mind. Go on outside."

Glorfindel weighed the moment in his head a moment, then took the bucket from the dam. "I have faced worse in my life, and death, than a mere dirty chore. With the promise of discomfiting Dwalin, learning, and bubbly cream? Do I get to share in the partaking of bathing as well?"

Dwalin sniffed unhappily. "You'd better, I can still catch a whiff of Radagast off of you."

The tall elf stiffened in remembrance, then forced himself to relax. "I have managed a cleaning since then."

"Not a good one." Lied Dwalin, turning up his nose.

Erelinde sighed and left them bickering as she got some more supplies before returning. The two males didn't even look in her direction and she wasn't sure they'd realized she'd gone. "Longbeard, Broadbeam, Stiffbeard, Firebeard, Ironfist, Stonefoots, and Blacklocks."

Dwalin said something cutting to the elf beside him, not paying her any mind at all. Erelinde shook her head and got back to work.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

It was the third yawn in under a minute that clued Kili in that his father was wearing out. He blinked and shook his head. "Enough for today, I think." He sounded a bit hollow even to his own ears.

Elladan seemed to hear it as well. He studied his son for a moment. "Not a good place to stop. The Kinslaying was a poor thing, a very poor thing."

"Tears unnumbered ye shall shed; and the Valar will fence Valinor against you, and shut you out, so that not even the echo of your lamentation shall pass over the mountains." Kili quoted perfectly from the story he'd just been listening to, his eyes wide. "The House of Feanor."

"Aye."

The dark-haired princling of many lines winced. "Am I of that House?"

"Not really." Elladan said with a soft smile. "And neither am I. We are Noldor, and are part of the doom the Valar and their judgement for we, our ancestors, followed Feanor in an effort to retrieve the Silmarils. But …we are descended from Finarfin. Although he and Feanor shared a father, they had not the same mother."

Kili nodded, having listened to the tragedy of jealousy between the half-sibling children of Finwe.

"Most of the Noldor were pardoned by the Valar, but not until after the War of Wrath. I will tell you that tale another day. Only Feanor and his sons were not so forgiven."

"Finarfin, our ancestor." Kili turned sad eyes upon his father. "He wasn't a part of the Kinslaying?"

"No."

The answer relieved the young prince, though he couldn't say really why. Those events were so long ago, and had naught to do with him. Yet he was glad.

"Neither did Galadriel nor Glorfindel."

Shock. Kili looked up, his eyes wider than ever before.

Elladan chuckled, shaking his head. "Finarfin is Galadriel's father."

"Is?" Kili's voice squeaked as he tripped over what to him was the most important word. "Like as in not dead and in the Undying Lands type of is?"

"Yes." His father smiled sadly. "Finarfin is there. As for our ancient hero, Finrod, who is Galadriel's brother, and Glorfindel both died while in exile here in Middle Earth. Of all the Noldor who died here, they were the only two gifted with re-embodiment. Though no one knows the reasons other than the Valar were pleased with their honor and repentance. Finrod stayed in Valinor, while you know where Glorfindel is at the moment."

"So. Galadriel could see her father and brother again, and you your mother?"

Elladan blinked slowly, taking a deep. "Potentially. Though there are barriers. I will explain more on that later." He did not bring up the fact that Galadriel was still fenced out of Valinor.

Kili spent some more minutes with his father, helping to make him more comfortable and waiting until he'd fallen asleep before taking his leave. His mind reeled with what he'd just learned. But the most important piece was something his father told him. Something about the Two Trees that Elladan probably wasn't aware meant anything to his young and mortal son.

Of those with him and available, only Elrohir knew that Kili had 'seen' the Light of the Two Trees. And tapped their power. Somehow. Or connected with Galadriel's power from her memories of the Trees. He didn't quite know what to make of it all.

He could seek out Elrohir, but Kili didn't think he could take much more, not right now.

"Child."

The word, tone and voice had Kili stopping cold. Frozen with one foot in the air, his next step incomplete.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili wasn't quite sure how Risil Blacklock had manipulated things so that she was with the lead group of dwarves. Then over the course of the next few miles she'd ended up right beside him. Deliberately he said nothing, waiting to see her next move. It was like a game of Cloudy-head with an opponent you didn't yet know. How did her mind work? What was her goal?

"We will need to take shelter fairly soon."

Fili grunted at the obvious.

Risil fell silent, seemingly content to ride at his side. Fili could feel the occasional odd looks from the Iron Hills and Blacklock riders with them. It was another three quarters of an hour before she spoke again.

"Do you think my brother and uncle might have gotten clear?"

Fili inwardly winced. Alright. That deserved an answer at the very least. He knew personally what it was like to worry about a brother that was separated from you. He wondered what Kili was doing right now. Probably not out in a near-blizzard with a power-seeking female and leading a ragged group of warriors and civilians both.

Risil had settled back into her saddle, thinking she would not receive and answer when he spoke up. "I don't know, but Himlis is a known warrior and one of the finest. I am sure he will come through if anyone can."

The dwarrowdam smiled sadly, though it was a genuine one. "I thank you for that."

"What is it you want of me?" He asked, moving from the observational to the confrontational. "You know I have no interest in courting."

"I feel safer here." That much was true, she found. She had witnessed him on the battlefield coming to the rescue of her and hers. It had been impressive, to say the least. "Desil is not the only one who is appreciative of a fine warrior."

Fili smiled, his dimples flashing as he shook his head. "Flattery." He admonished, but part of him was still pleased as he felt as if she was being sincere.

"Perhaps, but truth as well." She chuckled. "Come, can I not admire and hope to be friendly with one who will one day rule the greatest Dwarven throne?"

"That throne is in peril and needs shoring up." Demurred the prince, though pride was still in his voice.

"If it can be done, it will be. By those who took only thirteen to slay a dragon." She said, admiration in her tone.

Now Fili sent her a searching look as he blinked slowly.

She laughed and held up one hand in surrender, the other firmly holding the reins of her mount. Fili idly wondered who was walking so that she could ride. "Your bravery is a proven thing."

"So is your ambition." He said most pointedly.

Risil nodded, not losing her smile. She shrugged. "Can I not seek the finest?"

"Not with potions." Fili said, his voice cutting and yet …not damning.

The Blacklock heiress let her smile grow. "Not my original idea, and yes I know I went along with it. Perhaps letting greed overshadow common sense. But I would have made a fine wife and queen. I am not without leadership skills."

Fili nodded, knowing she wasn't wrong. He'd seen for himself how she had brought at least forty-eight surviving warriors limping into a Human settlement and then bartered her own personal gold and gems to find them shelter and assistance. That took guts, and yes …leadership. Something to be admired. Still, he didn't trust her.

"You would have wanted to supplant me. Have your own sons to inherit the throne." Fili tossed that at her, almost eager to hear her response.

The dwarrowdam shrugged and then sent him a bit of a smug look. "I may be good material for a queen, but not I can arrange to have a son just like that." She snapped her fingers. "That would have been in the hands of the Maker."

"Are there no potions and what-nots to help encourage a womb to catch?" Fili asked, then grinned as she actually blushed a bit. "There is, isn't there."

"Not exactly fool proof." She dodged.

They rode along silently once again, but this time more companionably. Finally, Fili sighed. "You will be sheltered within Erebor, at least through the winter. I can offer you that. But my uncle is still wroth with you and for good reason."

She nodded but said nothing.

"Neither am I happy with your actions, of your own design or others." Fili continued. "As for me, I am happy in the direction my heart leads."

Meaning he was seeking to court another. Risil's mouth twitched as she nodded again, remembering the blonde beauty that she'd seen be escorted around by the prince. A Longbeard, not a Blacklock. And that did matter, she knew.

But could she use her foreigness to her advantage? It would bear some thinking upon. She looked over at her riding companion once more. A most handsome profile, she admitted to herself. Along with a humor she hadn't expected. Risil looked forward once more.

Toward Erebor.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Glorfindel dipped his spoon into the dessert that Erelinde had brought them after dinner. He closed his eyes in pleasure as he licked his spoon.

"You look like a cat." Dwalin complained, eating his own confection, but with his foot propped up on a stool. One that the dwarrowdam had brought to him.

"This is delicious." The elf sighed happily. "Air bubbles. He peered at the frothy white mixture with a bit of awe. Doesn't taste like bubbles."

"Air has no taste, except when something's burning." Dwalin countered, still a bit surly. Though he was mellowing a bit now that he was relaxing.

"Or during battle, sometimes I feel like I can taste the blood when it spatters the air so freely." Glorfindel said, though not darkly, but in a simple conversational manner.

The bald dwarrow nodded, knowing of what the other warrior meant.

"Well. She knew all the seven Dwarven Fathers at least." Glorfindel said slowly.

"But not all of the noble houses of each clan." Dwalin started to scowl.

"She knew all the major guilds and their leaders." The elf defended the lass quietly.

Dwalin grunted unhappily. "Crafter. Bet she knows all the prices for weaving and lace goods too. Doesn't make her queen material."

"How about the fact that she got you and I to clean the bathing pools, and while we're eating dessert she is helping to make new mattresses for residents."

Dwalin shrugged. "A queen would delegate."

"Now that rather depends on the queen, I would imagine." Glorfindel clucked his tongue. "I think I like whiskey."

"You haven't had it before?"

"Not often and not of this quality. There's a sweetness here."

"That would be the honey." Dwalin told him. "And I think the whiskey stores were trade goods from Humans. As dwarves we prefer ale and mead, but whiskey is a nice change and it can be used in medicines."

"That would be a sad waste." Glorfindel looked up and frowned gently. "To be honest, I had my doubts when she said oatmeal. But this is tasty."

"She'll never make a good queen."

Glorfindel shrugged, to his mind she had a good start. She'd gotten more work out of he and Dwalin than he'd expected and was still going strong. There was more to being a leader than knowing history. He didn't say such to his companion, not yet, and not today. He simply dipped his spoon into the whipped cream again and licked it clean.

Dwalin sighed. "Stop that. Makes you look like a dwarfling, and you're too tall for that."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili hunched his shoulders a bit, until he realized he had done so and straightened up. He looked around brashly obvious in his curiosity despite his discomfort with the company.

King Thranduil looked around the large balcony as well. Seeing through the eyes of someone new had him seeing things he'd never noticed before. It was like he was seeing it for the first time as well. "A lovely view of the sky."

Kili looked up at the moon and stars. It was night. Hmph. He'd spent most of the morning with his father learning uncomfortable things, and then spent the better part of the day with Thranduil. A very uncomfortable individual.

Small barbs and stings, and lots of comments Kili was pretty sure were insults though he wasn't clever enough to catch them. It was a wonder his head wasn't hurting. Dinner had been a strained affair. Thranduil had insisted on dining privately with him, and as a guest he'd not felt he could press the issue. So he hadn't been able to catch up with Balin, Tauriel or Elrohir.

And now the "tour" continued. Great.

Kili turned at the sound of a flute, spying a group of elves on the other side of the balcony. The tune was light and airy and vaguely celebratory. It seemed out of place though he couldn't say why exactly.

"You frown. Do you not enjoy music?"

Kili shrugged. "I like music well enough." He'd learned to keep his answers rather short. Thranduil had a way of tossing words back at you and making them sound like they meant something you hadn't intended.

"This is a gathering place for those who come to listen to the stars and moon." Thranduil made a dramatic gesture with one hand, his long sleeve fanning out beautifully. Kili snidely wondered if the move was practiced. "There used to be a most beautiful carving just over there." The king frowned as he didn't see what he thought he should.

Kili watched the elven king's expression, seeing the faint flicker of hurt on his face as he turned and gestured to another elf. The male who moved over to them was dressed in fine robes and had a youthful, unlined face. Kili sourly wondered how many millennia old he actually was.

"Rotted?" Thranduil sounded disgusted. "And no replacement made?"

The male bowed low and offered apologies, saying something of they didn't have anyone of the level of craftsmanship still around.

Thranduil sighed heavily, scowling as he dismissed the other elf with a wave of his hand.

"You don't come out here often?" Kili asked, then drew back as the king turned to glare at him harshly.

Thranduil stilled, drawing back, as he saw his companion's reaction. He took a deep breath. "Forgive me. This was one of my father's favorite spots and I …I sorrow when I come out here and he is not among us."

Grief. Kili instantly forgave and looked sympathetic. Which drew a sneer on Thranduil's face. Recognizing a defense against sorrow, the dwarrow turned away. "Did your father make music out here?"

Thranduil did not answer for the longest time and Kili nearly turned away when the elf finally spoke, his words slow, as if they were dragged up from somewhere deep. "He played a marvelous harp. And out here, in the sky and under the light of the moon, it was as if he were playing a duet with the stars."

Kili swallowed hard, hearing the longing and grief behind the carefully neutral tones. It was the same with many dwarrow when speaking of their once-lost home in Erebor. It irked him a bit, feeling sorry for this prancing elf who took such great pleasure in needling him. Yet he couldn't help himself.

Another elf, this one carrying himself with great dignity and economy of motion. Kili licked his lips and nodded at the new arrival. He knew this was someone ancient, though how he knew he could not say. Just something 'weighty' about him.

"My king, we have not had the pleasure of your company out here in too long." The male bowed with deference, and Kili thought, perhaps with love as well.

"Laninil." Thanduil's tone warmed and he caught the other's hand in his own.

Kili nodded and backed off somewhat, wandering about a bit aimlessly, but more or less toward those making music. He looked up at the sky and felt cold. Well, not winter cold, but a deeper chill than that.

"Do you play?"

The words sounded polite enough, but Kili held back. Cautious. He shrugged. "Indifferently, and our flutes are different than yours."

"Ah." The she-elf gestured toward a harp and the elf playing it.

Kili shook his head.

"No music at all?" This was said with sympathy that felt only veneer deep. Shallow. And behind it? Satisfaction. Judgement.

Kili stiffened and shrugged. "Fiddle." He said with false casualness.

"Ah." The brown-haired she elf smiled and called to someone in Sindarin. Kili caught but a few words since she was talking so quickly. And the accent was different than that of his father and other relatives. Tauriel ….she sounded like that when she spoke, though they generally used Common.

"You would indulge us?"

Kili blinked, focusing back in and realizing they'd brought him a fiddle. A very fine one with gleaming wood and carved tuners. "What would you hear?"

"What would you play?" She countered in invitation.

Kili thought about echoing their music but when he raised the bow to the strings, he couldn't follow that path. His fingers adjusted and he let the instrument sing. The sound was a bare breath of a note, so light was it that the sound of nature around them nearly swallowed it whole.

The following note climbed, then fell off, only to be caught and lifted once again. The tempo was slower than the elves had been play. Sorrowful, resonating, and yet hopeful. He played, closing his eyes and hearing the song in his head, though he knew it not. The bow just moved as his fingers danced slowly over the strings. This was not a happy tune, yet there was something there though he didn't dwell on it, just letting the music glide away.

"This is a celebration of the Light. Not a funeral." Complained one of the elves, though Kili paid him no heed.

"Upbeat." Urged another.

"Enough." Apparently Thranduil was back with them, his face rather pale but still haughty. He stared at the elves watching them and they lost their own smiles. Slowly they began to pack up their instruments and move back inside.

The king stared after them, and then at Kili.

The dwarven prince stared back. He held up the instrument he'd been playing. "I'm not sure where to store this."

"It's yours now." The elf that the king had named Laninil said with an expressionless look. He inclined his head toward the young brunet. "I will make sure a proper case is brought to your room."

"Not the nursery." Kili wanted to take back the words as soon as he'd spoken, but it was too late.

The other elf looked startled, then sniffed. "I dare say not."

Thanduil said nothing. Taking no credit, and no blame. "Will you excuse us, Kuilaith?"

Kili didn't pretend to misunderstand, but was actually eager to be dismissed. He had a lot to think about tonight. He knew that he'd have difficulty sleeping as he mulled over the stories his father had shared. And what they meant for him. Still, he shrugged. "I don't know my way back."

Laninil pointed to the proper door and gave instructions to get him to the main halls. From there he could find his way, or find an escort. The elf waited for Kuilaith to be well on his way before turning back to Thranduil.

The king seemed to sense the return of his regard, though Thranduil wasn't looking but was instead staring off into the night. "Don't." It was nearly a plea.

Laninil bowed, backing off. He was a distant cousin to the king's father, and one of Oropher's closest friends. He held great love and respect for Thranduil and had held the disconsolate son when the father had fallen in battle.

The elf lord left his king alone, but gave him one final lingering look before taking himself away.

Laninil wondered at the young mixed-blood child called Kuilaith. That song he'd played. Had the child known? The elves out there were celebrating the light of the stars, but not really listening. Since Mordor had revealed itself, the songs of the Light had changed. Turned melancholy. And Kuilaith's playing had echoed the song, as if he could hear it as well.

Kuilaith. Someone who brought joy to the hearts of others. Apt or hope? For the first time since learning that such a child existed, Laninil wondered if there was more here than met the eye.

Up on the balcony, Thranduil neared the railing, staring up at the stars. He slowly closed his eyes, listening intently. The song.

War was coming. Like the one that had torn his world apart and taken his father away. What would this war take from him? Where was his son, where was Legolas?

The haunting strains of Kuilaith's music still filled his ears. Even though the dwarven prince was gone, the stars remained. And his song was theirs. It reminded him so strongly of Oropher, his father. What would he have made of this Kuilaith?

Thranduil sneered, but only the stars could see him. The expression faded, leaving only a sense of longing.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	65. In which lessons are learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title: In which we learn Dwarves don't have a word for pornography

"The snow is too thick for travelling."

Fili didn't bother turning, recognizing Risil's voice beside him. Nor was he surprised exactly.

"But we have no choice, do we?" The dwarrowdam said calmly and without judgement or fear. He approved.

"No." Fili nodded, squinting against the wind. The sun was up, though it was a bit hard to tell with all the falling white being whipped around their heads. His own braids were icy against his face. They didn't have the supplies necessary to take care of his own people, much less the Blacklocks or the refugees from the former Human settlement. He'd ordered quarter rations, just in case travel was slowed even further either by weather or battle. Who knew what was ahead?

Raised voices behind them had both looking back toward the cliff face that served as a bit of shelter for the dwarrowdams and mothers at least. From the corner of his eye Fili noted that Risil's hand dropped slowly, as if she'd been reaching for him. Deep in the back of his mind he called himself foolish for being flattered, though he knew it was his closeness to the riches of the throne that called to her. Still, he had to admit that when she looked at him in admiration it was warming. Too bad he couldn't trust her.

Fili strode away without speaking further, such was not necessary. He didn't have to slap her down, just not encourage her. Besides, he had Erelinde at home waiting for him. Or crafting, unaware he was still out here, he thought with a soft frown. No, he preferred to think of her dreaming of him. But, was he on her mind like she was on his?

This was their first time apart, excepting for the fall-in, which he dismissed as unusual circumstances. In the normal course of life, would she return to her absent-mindedness or would she actually miss his presence? It had taken effort to get her notice, would he keep it once out of sight? He dismissed the discouraging thoughts as he approached the source of the raised voices.

Sil was berating his youngest son, his face an angry red while Desil had his arms wrapped tightly around himself, looking terrible small and nearly invisible in the too large coat. Laughing, Fili recognized cut down clothing, probably from his older brother. Kili had often looked the same while growing. The thought of his missing brother wiped all lingering amusement from him and brought twinges of heart-pain that went soul deep. Was Kili safe in the Mirkwood? How long would he be gone? It hurt not to be there to help keep his brother safe.

"Foolish child!" Sil spat, waving his arms as he tried to reach out toward his son.

Fili's eyes narrowed, that wasn't a blow …it was …the dwarrow was trying to take something from the child. He whistled piercingly.

Everyone turned to look at him. Interestingly Sil's face went from an angry red to one mixed with embarrassment as he dropped his gaze. "My apologies, Prince Fili." The dwarf sketched a passable bow.

"For?" Fili asked, peering more closely at the dwarfling. Only there were two pairs of eyes peeping back at him. One set weepy and hazel and the other set a brilliant round green, both looking pitiful. A kitten. His face wanted to break into a grin of relief that this was the problem.

"We have not the supplies for all the dwarrow and people, we cannot be wasting such on a useless creature!" Sil ground his teeth, reaching once more for the burden his son had obviously hidden on the initial journey. "I told you to bring only the essentials."

Sil was right, Fili knew. But he watched as hazel eyes filled with panic and misery and all he could picture in his head was meltingly dark brown eyes. Desil wasn't Kili, but in that moment it mattered not. "Stop!"

Everyone turned to stare at him. Fili blinked, readjusting his thoughts. He certainly couldn't spare food or supplies on a kitten. That would be foolish and appear bad to the others as well. He could almost feel the regard of those looking toward him for leadership. Risil cocked her head to one side, as if waiting for his next words.

Fili rolled his shoulders, knowing his uncle would have no difficulties casting the small creature aside for the better of all. And Thorin wouldn't be wrong. But haunting him were Kili's pleading eyes, even if his brother wasn't here. His mind scrambled as he struggled to come up with something coherent to say that wasn't weak or soft. "There are vermin aplenty in Erebor, especially in the stables. We lost most of our stock and such hunters in recent attacks. It would be good to have a strong mouser to quell the situation."

Strong mouser? Fili fought against a blush as he ignored how small and pitiful the kitten looked right now. He doubted the thing was but a month old, if that. Mice and other such creatures would be safe for a while at least.

He hardened his voice authoritively, looking as stern as he could manage. "No supplies will be wasted on it. If the cat survives the journey, it was meant to be. If not, it is merely nature." Fili announced with a flat move of his hand signaling the end of the discussion. "We move in five. Be ready or be left behind." The words were for the dwarfling, who sniffled, hugged his kitten even tighter and stared up at the prince in a look of near worship and awe as the lad's father backed away without further comment.

Sil made a face, but nodded. He knew, they all knew. The child would give part of his share to the kitten no matter the order. But at least the prince wasn't angry and they all hoped that they'd be in Erebor sooner rather than later, making the point moot. It relieved him, that the royal dwarrow hadn't cast his son's pet out into the cold, though he'd been deeply embarrassed that Desil had ignored his orders. He'd deal with that later. Also hopefully in Erebor. But for now the crisis was over. He nodded again, grateful to the prince as everyone moved away to make themselves ready to be on the move.

"Silly creature." Risil smiled up at him. "Rescuer of scheming females and small dwarflings."

It stung a bit. Fili frowned, feeling exposed. "Dragon." He gruffly reminded her of his bravery in the face of near insurmountable odds. He looked down stonily into her face, but found no censure there. He relaxed a bit as she nodded at him.

Risil leaned up toward him. Fili hesitated and did not lower himself to her, though it felt awkward not to do so. She was tall enough to reach his ear as she whispered. "Thank you for not tossing us Blacklocks out into the icy wastes either. Though I promise we have more to offer than cleaning out mice."

Fili smiled a bit as her warm breath tickled his ear, somehow not surprised when she pressed a kiss right at the top of his cheekbone. Her lips travelled with provocative slowness down the side of his face, following the line of his beard toward his lips. Tempted, it was instinct and not thought that had him drawing away just enough so that her lips missed connecting with his. He smiled at her and shook his head minutely. No.

She pulled back, a moue of disappointment on her lips, though her eyes were shining with something darkly amused. As if she could sense how tempted he had actually felt. "Afraid you might like it?"

One blond eyebrow winged upwards. "I fear nothing." Came the automatic response as he moved away. He could almost feel the heaviness of Risil's eyes on him as he moved away.

She smiled after him, satisfied with herself. He'd be thinking about it now, most definitely.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"We could go after the prince."

"He's not really late yet." The king countered, trying hard not to head out into the deep snows himself.

"Fine." The voice sounded short and a bit irritated. The golden-haired elf peered closely at his left hand, frowning as he then buffed an invisible spot off of one nail.

"Peacock." Dwalin sneered and deliberately reached out to smear dust and grime onto the pristine elf warrior.

Glorfindel moved without seeming like he did so, just there one moment and the next two steps away. Only the dwarf hadn't really seen him move. His sneer grew ten-fold. "Tell me again why we are in the library? The unclean and unsanitary library?"

"Taking note of damages and destruction left behind by Saruman." Thorin said with sarcastic slowness as if to denote the elf was devoid of any actual thought process. "Or you two are, I'm trying to work here."

The tall elf turned around, spread out one arm as if to indicate the area around him. He cocked one perfectly arched brow and looked over at the dirty and mussed dwarf currently perched on a ladder, with one foot up in the air. "You look ridiculous."

"Yah, well you look like a ripe idiot, all clean among all of this." Scoffed Dwalin.

Thorin scowled, ignoring them both. "Why aren't the water pumps back up yet?" He asked rhetorically, snarling under his breath. "Save the mountain only to flood it?"

Ignoring them made the strange duo with him ignore the king right back. "We are doing no such thing, so what are you actually up to?" The ancient warrior asked, going so far as to peer at some of the titles of the books Dwalin was looking at. He sighed, unable to make anything of the strange runes. He moved to a different shelving unit. "Ah! These are in Common and ….they're translated Elvish poetry!" Glorfindel hummed happily beneath his breath. "Ah, this one is worthless though." He made a rude noise that had Thorin looking up from his work.

Dwalin looked back and cursed as he saw Glorfindel toss a perfectly good book into a corner with trash someone more industrious than they had made. "Don't! I thought Elves loved all knowledge, why are you throwing that out? It doesn't belong to you!"

Thorin, his face weary and lined with the stresses and lack of sleep that seemed to be his new normal, frowned sharply. Being a king was turning out to be far more difficult than he recalled Thror making it look. "Get out, both of you. I thought you'd be with Erelinde today."

"She keeps putting us to work. And right now she is scrubbing bathrooms." Glorfindel yawned lazily and pointed at the book he'd just thrown away. "It's horrid. Bad poet, bad poetry. I can't help thinking that translating it into Common would not have helped it any." The tall elf said diffidently, barely looking back at his companions. "If Balin were here he'd agree with me."

"No he would not!" Dwalin gave a rough laugh, shaking his head. "He's not here to give an opinion, so don't give him one on his behalf and in his absence!"

King Thorin leaned back in the chair pulled up to the one clear spot Dwalin had made for him at a large table. He scowled. "Please refrain from lowering the knowledge base of my kingdom."

"If your kingdom is based on ungainly verses discussing the proper shades of green for grass in the Spring, then go right ahead and fetch it back your highness. I'm sure it will raise the education of all those so inclined to read it." Glorfindel gave an affected yawn and pulled out another volume. He paused for a moment, then smiled, still not looking over at either dwarf. "Get much call for dwarrow reading Elvish poetry?"

Thorin sighed and shook his head, then shot an accusatory look at his cousin and right-hand. "Dwalin? Why are either of you in here? I thought you were supposed to be training a queen? Go scrub a bathroom, it would do you good."

"Chit doesn't know a Stonefoot feud from a Stiffbeard debate. I thought I was near about to pull my beard from my own chin when I realized Balin would have given her books to read." He smiled evilly. "Big, thick books full of good history. I'm doing my job." He waved at the books he'd already pulled sitting on the table. "She'll learn, if it kills me."

"More bad poetry." Glorfindel started to toss another book away, only to still as Thorin growled a terse warning at him. The elf smiled and opened the book, holding it up gracefully. "The stars, oh the stars! Captain follow thy leader so that I might follow you. Great is your battlements and strengthened though is …."

"Great is your battlements?" Dwalin sputtered looking disgusted.

Thorin sat back, staring. "Bad poetry indeed. Purely bad grammar, I thought Elves were taught to write better than that."

The golden-haired warrior shrugged. "They were in my youth, certainly. But this might actually be the fault of the translator. The Dwarven one." He peered at the title and page with the credits. "Alas, no." He pretended to great affront seeing as the translator had been Elvish, going so far as to shudder.

Dwalin gave a huffing laugh while Thorin merely shook his head. Glorfindel cocked his head to the trash heap in question.

Thorin sighed, then grinned. "Keep it. Not for the poetry, but as a reminder that Elves aren't all scholars at the very least. In fact, I'll personally have a small shrine built for that book. Set it up with a light source and guarded. Guide all dwarflings for multiple generations up and down just to see that particular book."

Glorfindel sniffed in disdain, though his eyes danced with humor. He tossed the book on top of the other one, in the trash heap.

Thorin sighed. "Like Ori would allow any of the books in here to be destroyed or thrown out."

"Ah, the redoubtable Ori." The elf smiled as he turned back to read the book titles once more. "And why are you hiding from him again?"

Thorin's face settled into a snarl. "Not hiding."

Dwalin scoffed openly. "You are." He countered without heat.

The king frowned sharply, then gave in with a roll of his shoulders as he tried to loosen the stiffness from his neck. "Ori does a marvelous job, but he's not Balin. Balin knows what I need to see, and what he needs to personally handle or delegate. Ori brings it all to me. Great lists, he is quite bright and attentive. I have lists upon lists of…everything. Lists even of all the lists he's brought me! Hourly lists, daily lists, lists everywhere." He shoved some parchment away from himself with a sigh. "I wish Balin were here, he knew how to prioritize and delegate. What I wouldn't give for him to be here now."

"Me too." Dwalin frowned, bringing his foot down to gingerly put it on the rung of the ladder on which he was perched. The pressure of his weight through the arch of his foot had him gritting his teeth and after only a few minutes, lifting the foot once more. He reached up and wiped sweat from his forehead, leaving a streaky trail of grime.

Glorfindel, seeing all this, grabbed another volume at random. A thick blue-bound leather book. He licked his lips and began reading aloud. "…and sayeth the master, take my hand and in friendship we will ever dwell for these gifts are thine for your wisdom, your honor, and your destiny. She will be yours, her heart will beat for you and all that the eye can see will be under your hand. Shine forth upon your peoples that light might gainsay you, and illuminate the path to a future of flowing waters and …." The elf frowned, flipped the book to the cover and then groaned. "Damn."

"That one wasn't half bad." Thorin commented. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing. Everything." The elf closed the book, putting it back on the shelf. "Lies. Told to one I once thought of as friend. Lies to put shadows in the heart and to destroy. A history I care not to be reminded of and ill buried, like mine own grave."

Dwalin and Thorin shared a look, hearing the change in the elf's voice. Gone was the playfulness and elegant neglect. Glorfindel's voice now sounded calm and collected. Too much so, hiding all that he was feeling. The bald warrior nodded, thinking he understood. "Maeglin?" He said of the elf that had betrayed Gondolin, leading to the fall and destruction of so many. Glorfindel included. Dwalin hadn't been familiar with the stories of the city's downfall, but Balin had shared it all with him the very night the elves had first arrived.

The elf lord hummed unhappily but did not answer directly, which was in itself answer enough.

Thorin, sympathetic to the loss of an entire people as he too had seen such, looked to change the subject. "So. Cirdan tasked the two of you to train the future queen of Erebor. If Fili can talk the lass into wearing his beads, of course. Yet I'm not understanding how you can accomplish this feat if you won't go near her."

Dwalin snorted, suddenly frowning. "She actually thought the Ferrum clan was of Stonefoot lineage. Can you imagine?"

"Ferrum?" Thorin wracked his brain, trying to place the information. "Didn't they die out?"

"Centuries ago." Dwalin nodded. "They followed Dain's grandsire though, right enough. Still have some of their descendants in the Iron Hills."

Blue eyes sharpened and a tight smile lit the king's face. "And then the sister of the head of the family married a Stonefoot and moved that way. If I'm not mistaken."

The bald warrior stilled, then cursed roundly. He threw a sharp glance at his king and cousin. "She didn't know that."

"And you forgot." Thorin snarked. "Cirdan tasked you two. Dwalin, who doesn't even like her and Glorfindel who knows less than spit of Dwarvish history and even less of Dwarvish politics. How are you two going to make her into a queen?"

The elf gave a soft chuckle and the two dwarves looked over to see him reading a slim book with a nondescript cover. Dwalin shrugged and pulled out a thick book with an evil grin. "I have her reading material right here." He moved to pick up the three other books off the table that he had already selected.

Glorfindel moved up next to Dwalin as the dwarrow carried the heavy tomes. He gently placed the one slender book on top as if with exaggerated care. "My contribution."

"Poetry?" The king asked, surprised.

The elf shrugged. "She'll learn what she needs to from that, this I swear. It will make for a very happy kingdom, I am sure." He placed his hand over his heart and bowed toward Thorin, who looked even more surprised at this move.

Dwalin scowled. "What is it? Grass is green and battlements are strong?"

"Not quite." Temporized the tall elf as he smiled. "A word or two about marriage and gardening. Nothing more."

"Gardening?" Thorin scoffed openly.

"A most lady-like pastime." Glorfindel smiled, some of his good humor leaking back in. "I have known more ladies over my long life than you two could dream about. Trust me."

Dwalin rolled his eyes while Thorin dismissed the thought entirely, waving the duo off on their way.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili stared at his plate, at the round items of unknown origin. He looked up at Balin who shrugged, already eating. The elves too had already begun to dine.

"Something wrong?"

The young brunet looked up, finding King Thranduil's eye upon him. The cool exterior mask of disdain clearly in place. "No. No, sir." He amended, seeing the monarch's nostrils widen very slightly. He needed to remember he was a barely tolerated guest and not a prisoner. Turning his own nose up at food was different in a cell, than in at a well set table. "I'm not sure what this is."

One of the elves spoke in Sindarin, waving a hand over the table. Kili picked up the words "pickled", "ram" and "whey". Other than that, it was a lost cause. Tentatively he cut one up, eating it cautiously. Sour, but not bad. "Testicles?" He asked, then nodded. "But pickled?"

Kili glanced up and caught Thranduil's expression as he watched the young half-dwarven prince eat his meal. Inwardly he smirked. If the king thought he'd be put off by such a meal, he was doomed to disappointment. Very little went unused back in Ered Luin. Not when the other choice would have been starving. "Mam usually served them either fried on in a pie. And usually in Spring."

The other elves at the table nodded casually, while Thranduil finished his meal. One went on to explain that these had been pickled to allow them to be stored longer, for the winter months.

Kili smiled, suspecting this was some sort of set-up that had failed.

Tauriel smiled at him, catching his eye. She gave a barely discernable nod and Kili knew he'd been right. Here only a day or two and he'd been fielding small challenges from the very first.

"Your father is healing well?" The king spoke after using a cloth to blot at non-existent food particles around his lips.

Kili thought about talking with his mouth still full of food, if for no reason other than to see the king's reaction. But perhaps he'd save that one for another time. He chewed and swallowed first, then took a huge gulp of wine to clear his mouth. "Very well, thank you." He thought he was doing a good job of this whole elegant manners thing. Fili would have laughed himself silly just watching this performance.

Thranduil blinked as his fine wine was used like swill, and the fine linen napkin was left off of the lap completely. As he watched, the dwarfling prince scratched his chin and flicked off a crumb without thought, going right back to eating.

"I sorrow that your father is not well enough to join us." The king continued unable to warm his tone appreciably.

Kili shrugged and grinned. Instead it was Elrohir who spoke up. "My brother is benefitting from the fine healers you have availed to us, and the kind welcome offered. The light here is bountiful and pleasing. You have our gratitude."

Kili pointed at his uncle as if to emphasize the elf's fine speech.

Balin sighed at the lad's lack of manners and bobbed his head. "You have been a very gracious host, King Thranduil."

"This time." Kili murmured, but then when he looked up he found all eyes upon him. He flushed nearly to his hairline, having forgotten about the fine hearing of the elves. "I apologize."

Thranduil stared at the youth, having stilled with his own wine half-way to his mouth. His lips thinned, then relaxed. "No. It is only the truth. Your circumstances now as my guests has changed since your last foray into my kingdom."

"More wine?" A voice at his left had Kili glancing up, then doing a double take. This elf looked vaguely familiar, and his long hair was trapped behind his back as he bowed. No. One side swung forward and Kili realized it was cut short. He paled as he realized this was the medic whom he'd had a run-in with back in Erebor.

"No. I'm fine." The brunet answered quietly, not wanting to accept anything from this source. He turned back to his plate, only to realize that everyone had fallen silent, watching him.

"Actually, Kili made sure to bring some fine wine from Erebor's cellars." Balin rushed into the stony silence. "As a host gift."

Thranduil's eyebrows shot up. "Kili did that?"

Balin stilled, not liking that the elvish King had left off the prince's title, and had used the Dwarrow name for the lad. Did this mean that Thranduil discounted him as both royalty and of elven blood?

The young brunet in question shrugged, either missing or ignoring the pointed little jabs. "I had heard you had a liking for fine spirits, with a sophisticated plate."

"Palete." Tauriel said and then nearly bit her tongue in two for being caught out correcting the prince. Her green eyes closed for a moment in self-recrimination.

"No. I meant plate. Galadriel herself informed me that King Thranduil served an elegant table with fine plates." Kili grinned mischievously, remembering the Lady's amusement as she'd made the comment.

Shockingly, the king laughed. Everyone sat back, watching. Thranduil nodded and settled back down, a smile playing over his lips. "Oh my dears. Yes. An old argument between my father and Celeborn." He reached out and ran a finger around the plate before him. "However, these are not those particular plates, perhaps I should bring them out for tomorrow's meal. To go with the wine you have brought? Tell me, what sort of food best suits the vintage you bring?"

Kili blanked.

"Come, what would match best? Red or white meat? Fish or fowl?"

Vintage? Certain wines paired with foods? Was that something people even thought about? Kili felt he was sinking in quicksand, or had suddenly fallen into a goblin kingdom again.

Tauriel spoke up, saving him from utter collapse. "This is a bubbling wine that Glorfindel put much stock in. I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure as yet, but Lord Celeborn sang its praises as well."

Thranduil's intrigue grew and he looked over at Kili in question.

"Fish." Kili supplied, picking an item out at random and hoping for the best.

"What vegetables?" Another elf asked.

Nearly wincing, Kili settled on something he knew he could tolerate more than the green growing stuff that elves seemed fixated upon. "Beans."

"Ah." Thranduil leaned back and gestured to one of the servants, who bowed and went to relay this new request to the kitchens. Before he'd gone, though, the white-bearded dwarf held up on hand to forstall him.

Balin was staring at Kili as if caught completely by surprise. "Aye, good choices. I do remember several very pleasant meals such as that. Although I do believe that mushrooms would be a better choice than beans."

The young prince flushed, knowing he'd guessed completely. If he'd hit upon the right foods, it was entirely by accident. The servant nodded and headed for the kitchens once more.

Thanduil, appearing to be in a better mood, made another gesture and food was cleared off the table with much speed and decorum.

Something dark brown was placed in front of him, in a small, shallow dish. Unlike the earlier course Kili knew he didn't recognize anything about this one.

"Cream?"

The prince looked up at the stoic face of the former-medic. He wondered briefly why this male was serving dinner. Was it a duty, or a punishment? Kili thought of sending him away, but inexplicably nodded. Cream was at least a word he recognized.

A dollop of something white and dense was dropped onto the dark mound. It didn't look anything like the kind of cream his mam whipped up back in Ered Luin for he and his brother. Where was the light frothiness he was used to having?

Kili looked over at Balin, only to find that dwarf staring at his own dish with a suspicious eye. He glanced over at Tauriel, who was digging a spoon into her dish while watching him.

"Are you unfamiliar?" Thranduil asked, a very light sneer perhaps gracing his lips.

Elrohir shrugged. "I do believe my nephew has not yet made the acquaintance of cocoa, or anything made from such."

"Cocoa?" Kili said quietly, the word wasn't unfamiliar. Suddenly he remembered that Bilbo had sent them a fine powder by that name. He licked his lips, still uncertain, but at least now more intrigued.

"Chocolate is a fine treat." Elrohir continued. "A most generous offering." He nodded in Thranduil's direction.

The king blinked cautiously, and as if not wanting to be seen as friendly, sniffed. "A traditional offering on the night of the first full snows, at least here in the Great Greenwood." He said, deliberately invoking the old name for his kingdom.

"The Great Greenwood?" Kili asked, drawing frowns from all the elves. Tauriel shot him an unreadable look. The dwarven prince stilled, blinking quickly. "I don't mean to offer offense, I do not recognize that name …"

Thranduil sat back in his high backed chair, the only such seat at the table and quite reminiscent of a throne. "No? Perhaps your history lessons are lacking."

Kili flushed heavily, putting his spoon into his dessert with more force than necessary. The metal of the utensil making the dish ring out slightly. "I know Dwarven history."

Balin coughed and then smiled at those who turned to look at him. He turned to look at the king. "I had quite forgotten the fine taste of chocolate, but your kitchen has surpassed even the fondness of my memories. This filling is like silk."

Kili made a face as he brought the spoon to his mouth, sure that Balin was applying the flattery too heavily. Sweet bitterness exploded on his tongue in unexpected ways. His eyes lit up with surprise and delight as he savored the taste in his mouth. The concoction filled his senses as his eyes drifted shut in sensuous pleasure.

A chuckle drifted across the table as Kili sighed.

"I had forgotten what that first taste must have been like." Some elf spoke quietly, almost gently. "I have grown too accustomed."

Kili blinked his eyes open, turning toward the elf who had spoken. The male with the light, oak colored hair lifted his wine glass in the prince's direction in gratitude rather than disdain.

Thranduil dipped his head in agreement, his face unreadable. "So. What do the Dwarves do to pass the long winter's nights?"

Kili didn't answer, having taken another bite of his chocolate. This time with a portion of the cream on top. He looked like he was blissfully lost.

Balin chuckled, shaking his head. "Stories or music, sometimes both. We tell tales of our fathers and their fathers, our uncles and our heritage."

"Learning of dwarven history." An elf spoke with a small smile.

Balin shrugged graciously. "Kili has been learning of elvish history from his father, but it is new to him. I know they have not progressed so far as the Great Greenwood as yet." He bowed his head in Thranduil's direction.

"No doubt." The king leaned forward as if supremely interested. "How far have you gotten?"

Kili blinked and shook his head, not wanting to speak of the Kinslaying. Not at dinner. "Bits and pieces, still trying to make sense of everything."

"Oh?"

"Feanor."

"Oh." Thranduil's tone changed and he stilled, a long moment passed and then he dipped his head. "Well, perhaps we can skip ahead a bit for the night?"

"Did you found the Great Greenwood?" Kili asked, regrettably licking the last of the chocolate off of his spoon, having nearly inhaled the dessert.

Thranduil's eyebrows rose haughtily and a smile played out across his lips. "I? No. That would have been my father, Oropher."

"A most wise and brave elf of great stature and dignity." This from an elf at the table who looked Sylvan rather than one of the High Elves. "I recall the first time I saw him as he travelled this way."

The king's eyes widened slightly as he turned toward the speaker. "I have not heard you speak of this in a very long while."

The elf dropped his gaze, bowing his head slightly at his leader and king. "Nay." He said, not mentioning that naming Oropher always seemed to bring great sadness to the son who missed him so.

Thranduil gestured for the elf to continue, surprising not only his followers, but he himself. "For our guests." He shifted the cause of his mood onto others. "Please edify them of our history here."

Yet it wasn't merely the dwarves who leaned forward, listening intently as the Sylvan elf began the tale of how Oropher had travelled this way following the War of Wrath. Weary beyond telling of the Valar and the death and destruction that evil had left behind. How victory had brought freedom, but also an accounting of all that had been lost forever. The tale grew as the warrior made himself most welcome in the area, impressing all around him with his wisdom, bravery, and caring. How the Sylvan in the area had banded with him, taking him as one of their own and making him their king.

Kili heard the tale, but moreover he heard the love and respect in the voices of those who shared in telling the stories of Oropher. He recalled how the elf had little love for the Dwarves, and weighed it against what he was hearing now. It didn't sound like the same person, and yet it was.

"Your thoughts appear to be drifting far afield."

Kili turned to find Tauriel seated next to him. That while they had all moved around to find comfortable seating during the story-telling portion of the evening, she had moved close to his side. He reached out and she caught his hand with hers, drawing several looks from the elves around them, which they both ignored.

"I find it all strange." He murmured.

"How so?" An elf looked at him curiously. "You find our king's father to have been strange?"

"Nay. Not my meaning." Kili hurriedly explained. "But what little I knew of Oropher, from the Dwarven side of things, was that he had little fondness for our race."

No one corrected his use of 'our' for the Dwarves. They all stared at him with varying expressions and Kili realized he was being asked silently to expand on his answer.

"Despite his dislike for Erebor, and dwarves ….he answered the call for the Last Great Alliance, the one against Sauron." Kili shrugged. "He sounds brave and wise to stand against evil, even when caring not for those he was standing with."

More silence, as most eyes cut to Thranduil in order to gauge his mood and response.

The elf king looked thoughtful, yet there was a great sadness in his eyes, for his father had fallen in that battle. "High praise." He said rather tightly.

"It makes me understand a bit better why Sauron would go so far as to trick a marriage between elf and dwarf." Kili continued in his usual unschooled manner of slightly rushed, obviously thinking as he spoke and not before. "Dwarves and Elves didn't get along, but both were willing to side with Men and fight against a common foe. But tear those bonds with suspicions and kinslaying? Make each believe even worse of each other? Then it would keep such an alliance from ever forming again."

Thranduil froze where he sat, his mind racing too quickly to settle on just one thought.

"It does bring reasoning into sharp focus." Elrohir said, his voice tinged with great sadness. He smiled winsomely though. "However, I cannot regret that this union brought you into our family."

Kili said nothing, though Tauriel squeezed his hand tightly, offering what comfort she could. She knew he regretted not knowing his father previously, yet at the same time she also knew he did not regret growing up fully dwarrow. It made no sense, and yet it did.

Over to one side, Thranduil watched the pair of them. Marveling at their differences, and yet there existed a tenderness between them that he would never have guessed at.

Seeing Tauriel's face and eyes as she watched Kili, it made Thranduil realize that while there had been love and respect between she and his son, it would never have been this. But should there have been? What had he lost by pushing this she-elf to the side as not being worthy? Would Legolas return and if he did, would he be the same? And with Sauron's return to power, would it even matter?

The king's eyes drifted over toward the dwarven prince. Kili. Kuilaith. Was he one or the other? Could it even be possible to be both?

Oropher, his father, had detested the dwarves. But against Sauron they had all stood together, along with one of the Durins. If his father could stand thusly, how could Thranduil not? Would Oropher had turned way the dwarves in their plight when attacked by a dragon?

The king shifted in his seat, making a gesture to call for some music. He'd had enough of stories for one night. And he had much to think upon.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Four courting beads." Moaned Brunere, dropping her head onto the table around which she sat with her friends.

Sealyn laughed, rubbing one hand down her friend's back in a supportive gesture. "Bragging, or complaining?"

"Complaining. Bragging was earlier." Brunere moaned, propping her head up onto her folded hands, though still bent over the table. She blinked owlishly.

Erelinde smiled, her fingers twitching in a way her friends knew well.

"New lace pattern?" Brunere asked, more than willing to be distracted from her courting woes.

Sky-blue eyes blinked in confusion as she followed her friend's gaze to her own hands. She pinked up prettily, dropping her fingers to still the movements. "No. Well, maybe. It's not important, there is too much work to be done."

"That is certainly the truth." Sealyn held out her hands, picking at the chapped and dried skin and the state of her fingernails. "I cannot find a pumice stone among all of this rubble."

Erelinde chuckled at her friend. "Stones, stones everywhere and you complain you want a different kind?"

"Stones can be carted away." Brunere groaned, straightening up as she arched her back in a stretch. "I should know, I've been hauling them around for days."

Sealyn looked at her disapprovingly, and then at the carefully maintained splint on her friend's broken hand.

Brunere shrugged. "Oin won't let me scrub and sewing is out, but there is this basket with shoulder loops the dwarrow fill up, and I can lift it and carry it out. But none of them will let me lift a dratted rock!"

Erelinde frowned, slinking down a bit in her seat in an uncharacteristic move. It looked as if she were hiding from someone she'd just spied entering the area. It didn't help. Dwalin spotted her easily enough, stalking over toward her. Well, stalked with a hitch in his stride.

The bald warrior unceremoniously dropped several large, fat tomes before her. The books making a loud noise, drawing eyes in their direction as conversations stilled. He grinned evilly at her, pointing at her face and then to the books.

"Learn them. I'll be asking you about them later." Dwalin turned and limp-stalked away.

Brunere sighed. "He is made of stone. I've seen the state of his foot and it should hurt worse than he's letting on. Oin still worries he'll lose a toe."

"A toe? He already doesn't have a heart. It's missing." Erelinde complained lightly, looking woebegone at the books before her. "I'm too tired to read these."

"I'm too tired to walk!" Brunere smiled as she said it, then gave a longing little sigh. "Four walks for today. I've done three. One more to go."

"Take out his bead." Sealyn poked fun ruthlessly. "Then you can rest instead."

"Bite your tongue and throw it away!" Laughed the violet-eyed dam with a grin. "I have four courting beads."

"Now that IS a brag, not a complaint." Sealyn pointed out with her own smile growing.

"What does your father think of any of your suitors?" Erelinde asked, curious. She leaned over, reading the titles of the books Dwalin had literally dumped before her.

Brunere grinned and shrugged. "He mutters a lot and glares at them all equally. Then when they leave he begs me to tell him everything. He says it's because mam will want to know when she arrives in the Spring, but his eyes light up so. He is really hoping I choose one of them this time. He was so disappointed I didn't choose anyone back home."

"Do you? Tell him, I mean. Everything?" Sealyn asked. Her friend gave her a disbelieving look and crossed her eyes. "No, I wouldn't either."

"So. When are your beads coming forth?" Erelinde glanced over at the inky-haired dam, then smiled as her friend flushed a bit around the edges.

Sealyn shrugged. "Not yet." She said, very coolly not elaborating on the state of her courtship with the elusive Nori. "I'm going to wait until my parents arrive in the spring. Da will be able to read him, I'm sure."

"Your father loves everyone." Brunere protested.

Sealyn grinned, shaking her head. "No. He just doesn't run his mouth about people, at least not out in public. He's very sharp though."

Erelinde blinked twice at that, thinking over her long history with Sealyn and the Heavyaxe clan. "Really?"

Brunere stared at her friend for a long moment. "Seriously?"

Sealyn laughed, shaking her head at the expressions on her friends faces. "No worries, no worries. He loves you two. Always says it's wonderful there were other dams my age to grow up with, I know it pleased him greatly. Especially after Mam went to Wait in those bad storms we had."

The white-blond crafter shook her head. "Your father must think the worst of me, not coming around like I used to and all."

The Heavyaxe daughter chuckled and shrugged. "Da always said you'd come out of it when you were ready. I guess you're ready." She then grabbed the top book on the pile Dwalin had left. "So. Queen stuff?"

"I haven't even asked him to court me yet!" Erelinde protested, though neither of her friend's took her seriously. Brunere even winked at her. "Well, I haven't."

"Well …you will." Sealyn flipped through the small book, frowning. "I think this is elvish poetry."

"I don't read elvish." Erelinde shrugged, picking up the next book. It looked to be a treatise on the history of Belegost and Nogrod, Dwarven kingdoms from the First Age. "I don't know how this is even relevant today."

"It's written in Common. Listen to this …" Sealyn cleared her throat. "Now in the seventh hour the light of the moon shining like globes lit the paths, making them as unto silver. Roads leading into the garden bowers with hills soft and white and pure, tipped in the rosy glow like unto sunset …."

"Seventh hour? Why would the moon be out at sunset?" Brunere hooted while Erelinde pushed her book aside, reaching for another.

"This one is on ….oh dear, the Firebeards." The white-blond beauty sighed unhappily.

Sealyn though, continued with her book of poetry. "The traveler's hands roamed the veins of silver roads never before seen nor traversed, untouched and yet coveted by all and one. Seeking, seeking treasures only hinted at in the gleam of an eye, the tilt of a chin, the laugh like birdsong filling the void where before only darkness dwelt. The breath of life lifted the dove like a lure meant to draw him ever closer. Softly, softly the white mountains breathed, the hills beckoning him onward ever onward deep and deep in toward the garden groves. He …." Suddenly she choked, coughing and sputtering helplessly.

Brunere reached for her friend, who jerked back and slid off the bench without ceremony. "Sealyn?"

The inky-haired daughter blushed bright, bright red and scrambled back up, ignoring the strange looks all the surrounding dwarrow were sending her.

Looking to be helpful, Erelinde rushed around the table, reaching to take her friend's book so she could more easily gain her feet. Sealyn didn't let go of the book though, pulling it back sharply as she moved back onto the bench seat, breathing hard. Her eyes were wide.

Brunere and Erelinde shared a look of concern. Sealyn waved them in tighter together, as if to impart some vast secret. "This stuff is …NOT what I thought." She growled low and unhappily as her friends clearly didn't appear to understand.

"It's private." Sealyn hissed, raising her eyebrows high on her head, staring at her friends. "Understand? Private!"

Brunere looked helpless as she bit her lip. "Secret?"

Sealyn nearly rolled her eyes. "For married dams only."

"I thought it was for elves." Erelinde sounded less than sure of what was going on. "Didn't you say ….eep!" She drew back as Sealyn sent her a fulminating glare. "What?"

"White hills? Breathing? Uncovered, unseen, coveted?" Sealyn waved the book under sky-blue eyes. "Topped by crowns of sunlight, rosy and …"

Brunere sucked in a shocked breath.

Erelinde still looked lost.

"Breasts." Sealyn told her in a hissed whisper, casting her eyes down to Erelinde's blooming charms covered though they were. Sky-blue eyes froze as she stared back at her friend, though not really seeing her.

"They wrote about that?" Brunere asked, her voice hoarse. "Let me see."

Sealyn yanked the book out of reach of her friend, pushing it toward Erelinde. Who backed away as if it were made of uncooled and molten metal. "It's for you."

"Me?" The white-blond dam said without actually uttering the word, more as if her mouth moved and no sound came forth. She shook her head in denial.

"I want to see." Brunere pouted, drawing an irate look from Sealyn. She just smiled. "Four beads, I need more information than my da is willing to share."

Sealyn grabbed Erelinde's hand and wrapped it around the edge of the book, ruthlessly shoving it back toward her friend. She turned back to Brunere. "You have a mother and an aunt who can answer questions."

The Grimbasher daughter blushed hotly and shook her head. "My mother would drop down dead if I asked such."

"You have five younger brothers, I doubt that very much." Sealyn said sarcastically. "I think your mam already knows. Only the fact that two of your brothers were recovering from hunting injuries kept your mam at home on this journey. Your other brothers stayed to help out your mam and protect the settlement."

A shocked squeak of a sound had both dams turning to stare as Erelinde slammed shut the book, her mouth gaping like a caught fish. Her face was alarmingly red. She stared at her friends for a lengthy moment, then licked her lips. "I think he found the garden." She sounded breathless.

Sudden giggles erupted at the table, drawing puzzled looks from those around them.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili hadn't been able to sleep, so he'd gone to visit his father. They'd spoken for over an hour until the healers had basically chased him clear of the room.

He had walked by Balin's room, but didn't want to wake him if the other dwarrow was asleep already. What he really wanted ….Kili stopped at Tauriel's door, tapping lightly on the door. No answer.

Kili had told her that he wasn't sure when they could be alone again, but he really felt disappointed that his words were proving true.

"Go rest, Kuilaith."

The young brunet turned his head, catching sight of Elrohir who had come to his own door. Possibly because of the tapping on Tauriel's door. Kili grinned at him, unrepentant. "I just want to talk to her."

His elvish uncle smiled and shook his head, closing his door as he did. "You really should go rest in your own room."

Kili nodded, but was still feeling restless. He really wanted to see …Fili. He had so much he wanted to tell him, to share. To get his brother's insight into Thranduil's court. The history of the Noldor. His history. Frowning sharply, Kili headed up toward the balcony where he'd played the fiddle the night before.

He passed several elves on his way. Most paid him no mind, or were polite enough only to stare where he couldn't see. Only a few openly goggled at him. Kili ignored them all.

"Kuilaith." One guard greeted him, but Kili didn't feel like explaining himself. He wasn't a child who needed permission to go outside and look up at the moon and stars. He stiffened as he neared the elvish guard, as if daring the male to stop him. He didn't. Kili moved through without being challenged. It didn't make him relax though.

He turned down one hallway and stopped, it didn't look familiar. Turning back around, Kili stopped and stared.

Tauriel smiled at him.

Now he could relax, he smiled, taking a deep breath as he did so. "I went by your room."

"I was in your room." She told him softly.

Kili chuckled, shaking his head at himself. "I ….damn, that's funny. Elrohir was trying to get me to go back to my room. If he'd only known he wouldn't have advised me like that."

"I think you're wrong." Tauriel's smile grew. "He came to your room and told me you'd gone the opposite direction."

The brunet sighed heavily and laughed at himself. "He should have been clearer."

"Perhaps." Tauriel looked around at where they were. She lifted one brow at him.

Kili shrugged. "Actually, there was this balcony that I wanted to visit, but I may have turned the wrong way."

"Ah." Tauriel gestured for him to go back down the hallway from where he'd come. Yet she hesitated when he reached for her hand, though she took it. Together they approached the same guard he'd seen before.

He could feel her grip loosening, and he tightened his. He drew to a halt, looking up at her. "Is walking hand-in-hand around her discouraged?" Or was she ashamed to be seen in her old home, with him? Though he didn't ask that part aloud.

Tauriel's bright green eyes found his unerringly. Her grip firmed. His asked if she was sure. She started walking again, and since she wasn't letting go it was walk with her or be dragged. Kili laughed, drawing attention their way.

Fair skin pinked up somewhat, drawing her freckles into sharp relief. But her chin only lifted and her stride never faltered.

This time the guard dipped his head with more respect as they passed in a different direction.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	66. In which Thorin can't escape

"This is the third time that you have been witnessed out here on this balcony. I find myself surprised."

Kili's head turned, and the soft smile on his face that he'd been sharing with Tauriel froze for a moment, then widened in challenge. Trenien. He'd finally remembered the name of the elf that had lost the length of his hair, along with his pride, for his actions in Erebor. "Maybe I like it out here, though I do not see how you might find that surprising. For you are out here too."

The elf looked out over the vista of tree tops, limbs, snow, and glittering ice. Winter had well and truly decided to join them. He next squinted up at the sky, his expression showing mock confusion. "Don't Dwarves hide and scurry around in the darkness? Hidden below like bugs? Afraid of the light?" He smirked suddenly, pinning his eyes on the Dwarven prince. "Or perhaps you like to come out here to satisfy the need of someone else? A someone not beautiful enough to garner the attention of the one she really wanted."

Tauriel stiffened beside him, but said nothing.

Kili's smile remained in place, though his eyes glittered with the heat of anger and his facial muscles tightened. He opened his mouth to tell of how Legolas had come to Erebor seeking Tauriel's love, but just as he would have spoken her hand tightened upon his. Kili's tongue stalled, as he took a moment to assess. Unwise. No, best not to bring up the missing prince's name out in public like this. Even he could tell that Thranduil was touchy on the subject of his son. Bringing out how Legolas had sought attention and been rejected? No. The king was also out on the balcony, but was speaking with others further away.

"Nothing to say?" Goaded Trenien, his hand unconsciously going to push his errant strands of hair that had swung forward back over his ears. Frowning as they did not stay, and his eyes hardening as he remembered, again, why his hair wasn't its usual length. "No one else found her pretty enough, so she settles for hiding in the earth?" He cocked an eyebrow in challenge.

Kili pulled his hand free of Tauriel's, crossing his arms as he stood up against the elf. At a glance it appeared to be an unfair advantage for the whip-thin elf, as Kili was no match for him in height. But Dwarves were used to being undervalued and underestimated, especially by this particular race. He was undaunted. "Dwarves live underground yes. But we value beauty just as much as any, perhaps more so as we are driven always to create rather than merely sit and contemplate." He sneered. "We are known for greed, for we gather things that are valuable and beautiful. Such as the pin holding together his cloak over there."

A silent elf who had been silently sitting and covertly watching, startled then smiled as he gave a self-depreciating nod. The jeweled clasp he wore was old, and gorgeous, and of Dwarven make. He gave a light shrug and gave up trying not to appear to be paying attention, relaxing back as he watched the confrontation continue.

Over to the side, King Thranduil was speaking and appeared to be paying no mind to other conversations.

Trenien's face clouded with frustration and he opened his mouth as if to speak. Kili rudely interrupted him.

"We can see in that darkness just fine. We have eyes that can tell that the diamond in the ring you yourself wear has three small flaws." Kili exaggerated deliberately, for he was no trained jewel cutter, though he doubted that Trenien would call him on it. He smiled darkly while leaning forward as if to impart some secret. "And yet we find no flaw in the beauty standing behind me." Kili spread his hands out for emphasis. "Now. If Elves are content with the flawed, I cannot judge you on that. But for me," Kili's hand moved to lay flat over his heart. "I will not settle. Whether in the light or the dark."

"She has freckles." Someone to his left spoke up in a rather neutral tone.

Kili turned to speak to the female voice that had called out, ready to be mean and sarcastic. But his look softened as he saw no malice, but only curiosity. The she-elf who'd spoken up had fairer hair than Tauriel, but she also was freckled. She and another elf sat together near the middle of the large balcony.

Kili's smile bloomed as he bowed in her direction. "Hardly a flaw, not to the eye of one who knows true beauty. Such only serve to enhance, and those who cannot tell the difference are the ones truly living in darkness."

The blonde she-elf blushed prettily while her male companion smiled and nodded his head gratefully at the young dwarrow. He lifted the hand he was currently holding and kissed the back of it with grace and adoration. "I cannot disagree, my wife."

Trenien looked around, disbelief in his gaze as he glanced around the area, finding that several were nodding toward the dark-haired dwarrow. "Elves that befriend dwarves come to horrid ends, simply think on Eol."

"Come." A voice said as another elf approached, putting his hand on Trenien's shoulder. Everyone stilled as they realized that King Thranduil had joined them yet again. "The Dark Elf's demise is a sad story, and he was very friendly with the Dwarves, but they were not the cause of his downfall."

Kili started to relax, though he was perhaps too soon in that.

"Now, the very flaws that were in Eol that caused his sad end may also be the ones that led him to making strange alliances. He could not live happily enough where he was meant to be and instead sought out darker environs. Yes, the same thing that led him to making friends with such might have been what also led him to his doom." The king shrugged lightly and pretended to ignore the presence of the Dwarven prince, and his lady friend.

Kili stiffened up again, clamping his teeth shut. He wasn't sure how to respond. Usually he'd spout off, but this place, this situation was different. It felt like he was being goaded deliberately into losing his control. More than ever he wished Fili was with him.

Thranduil made a dismissing sound and turned away, not waiting for Kili to respond. Treating him like a child.

Kili fumed and had to nearly bite off his tongue to keep from saying something unwise. Besides, he didn't know WHAT to say. Eol? Who in Arda had that been? The Dark Elf? He hadn't learned of him yet. He'd have to ask his father. One certain thing, he wouldn't be asking Thranduil, with his nose stuck up in the air so high.

Several bowed to the king, asking of in what manner they might serve. Thranduil waved one graceful hand in denial, shaking his head slightly. "Nay, nay. I merely came to enjoy the fall of sun on my face, the weather will worsen soon and we should make ready. But for now, a moment of peace is enough."

Kili settled back down next to Tauriel, his hand reaching for hers. She stiffened, her green eyes flying up toward her former monarch, but he did not appear to be paying attention. Slowly her hand moved toward his until they were once more palm to palm.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"We're being followed." Dori said without offering a greeting as he walked up beside Prince Fili. "Bifur makes it to be at least a group of fifty or more, they gain ground on us with every hour."

Fili nodded. Their pace was too slow. But they had more dwarrow with them than they had mounts, including dams and children. And wounded. Not to mention the thrice damned snow fall that was more difficult for the Dwarves to traverse than for the taller races. Their dense bones and heavier weight were not an asset in such circumstances. "Kerchik?"

Dori winced as the most severely wounded Blacklock was brought up. "Won't last." He said, distant sorrow in his voice for one he did not know personally. Still, he was a dwarrow and he would be Waiting soon.

Fili scowled, looking down the trail, then up at the cloud deck while he judged the on-coming weather. "It will worsen."

"Aye." Dori agreed. It was a hard decision. Hurry and speed would bring them safely back to Erebor before the orcs and goblins coming behind could catch up. But they'd lose people. Kerchik was the worst, but he wasn't the only wounded warrior from the Blacklocks.

Fili grunted. He could order them forward at pace. No one would blame him. His teeth ground together as he vividly recalled the sight of the Human settlement being overrun. The red was hungry, and though it drank deep of Human blood it wasn't satiated and now some of their number was hunting them. Could he leave the most severely wounded behind? Dump the dams and dwarflings on the mounts already under strain and ride double back to safety?

How he wished Kili were here beside him, though part of him was glad his younger sibling didn't have to see him facing such as this. It was easier when Thorin was in charge. Following was much simpler than leading. Fili scowled. He knew Thorin could make hard decisions, but would he?

Unbidden came the memory of Thorin turning away from Kili, demanding Fili's obedience. Leaving Kili behind in Lake Town, to die or not. He'd put the quest before family. The blond shook his head, trying to clear away the anger the memory brought back up. It hadn't been Thorin's fault, not in total. Dragon Sickness. He'd been lost then, and had made a bad decision. One even Thorin had come to realize had been wrong.

So. If that was the wrong decision, what was right? Or was it even that simple? There was no wrong or right, just …choices. What would his brother advise? Suddenly he grinned. Actually, Kili's counsel would more than likely prove reckless. The brunet was almost foolhardy in his bravery. Yet it served him well.

The thought tickled Fili and he wondered what call his brother would make as he cast his eyes around. They caught and narrowed on the pass above them. "Good place for an ambush." He commented, speaking aloud as his mind raced. Aye, yes, that might work. They'd still lose people, but not for running. He grinned. In his head Thorin and Kili both would approve. Maybe.

Dori looked up, then back and Fili in confusion. Suddenly he looked back up again, his eyes widening. "Lad! We haven't the time!"

Fili grunted. He threw another judging look at the ominous sky. They'd be more than covered in white soon. It was hard going already with more snow on the way, more could prove devastating. They hadn't the supplies to hole up and wait for better, more than just the injured or young would die then.

But he couldn't just leave and hope for the best. Fili turned, passing exhausted and freezing dwarrow as he moved back toward the Blacklock warriors. The dwarves stood, those that could. They eyed the prince warily, knowing the direness of the situation as well as he. It was obvious that they weren't happy, for they knew that some of their own would not be able to keep up.

"We make for the pass. We take rest and we make ready." Fili ordered harshly, pointing. He started to move away.

"Sir? What?" Exclamations rose up behind him and he ignored them as he moved away.

"Prince Fili!"

Risil's voice. He stilled, turning to look at her as she pushed through the heavy snow to get to him. The struggle was real as the white stuff did not want to part, caking boots and cloaks with winter's bitter cold.

"We will do as we have to, for the good of all." Risil said, her chin rising as she neared. He offered her a hand to keep her balance, which she took graciously.

Fili grinned darkly, baring his teeth. "We did not ride this way to rescue those in need, just to abandon them here."

"If we fight now, we might be lost in the weather later. Better to save as many as possible, rather than to lose all." Risil pointed out, searching his face for clues on what he was thinking. "A good king knows when to make a hard decision."

Fili turned to face her, his blue eyes nearly burning with intensity. "A better king knows when to make a stand. I do not fear death. I fear bowing down, giving up all that makes us Khazad. To the Darkness. I will not be chased like a puppy with his tail between his legs. They follow us? They will die. After? We will push through the snow even if it comes up over our heads. We can dig through the earth, now, if we must, we will tunnel through the snow. We will gain Erebor. Mordor has taken much, and looks to take more. Those following us will not return to their foul master, they will carry no tale of chasing us down like a rabid animal through the mountains. Scared of our own shadows. I say to them, no. No."

"No." Risil repeated his word under her breath, reluctant admiration beneath her fear. Her head lifted and she looked behind her at those Blacklock warriors who'd fought so valiantly. Her voice firmed and rose. She squeezed his hand tight. "No."

The word passed quickly through the crowds, almost like a chant.

Fili grinned grimly, nodded at Dori who looked proud enough to burst. And worried too. Still, he put his hand on his sword and bowed low.

The blond nodded back and started forward, only to draw up short as he found Risil still had a hold on his gloved hand. He sent her a look, and then nearly found himself drowning as she threw herself into his arms. Tears fell unchecked down cheeks made red by the cold. "Thank you." She whispered.

Fili hugged her back for a moment, belatedly realizing he was putting her life in jeopardy too. He'd done so without thought, pledging his warriors was one thing. Erelinde. Could he, would he, have made the same decision if she'd been out here with him?

Fili wasn't sure, but he was damned glad that she wasn't here for him to find out. He was more than grateful she was back within Erebor, safe from all of this. Unknowingly he hugged Risil tighter, thinking of sky-blue eyes and white-blonde hair, and not the dam in his arms.

Mistaking the signal, Risil lifted her face, moving to kiss him.

The moment that her lips touched his, Fili flinched back. His eyes widening. Hadn't he told her before that he wasn't going to pursue courtship? Still, part of him wondered, tempted.

Risil's mouth moved forward as he retreated on instinct alone. A mere brush of lips rather than a real kiss. She stepped back, nearly falling but for him catching her arm. She looked up at his blushing face and gave a weak chuckle that she really didn't feel. "She's a lucky dwarrowdam." She forced herself to sound light-hearted.

"I'm the lucky one." Fili countered as he let her go now that she was standing on her own. Slowly he stepped back, both physically and mentally.

Risil stared at him with admiration, knowing when to beat a strategic retreat. "I admire you so much more than I thought. I could love you."

"She already does." He backed away, hoping his words were true. Erelinde had promised him that she'd wear his beads. But that had been when she'd been overwhelmed, thinking him dead and gone to Waiting. Overjoyed that he yet lived. And while he knew that there hadn't been a lot of time between then and now, it bothered him that she was not yet wearing those beads.

Sensing more than seeing, Risil could tell there was a slight hesitation. It gave her a small amount of hope.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Brunere was heading to the Great Hall for a late bite to eat when she let out a startled squeaking noise. She felt her arm being pulled, dragging her off to one side of the hall. The healer stared at her friend Erelinde in some surprise. "What?"

"I can't look him in the eye!" The pretty young dam wailed softly, nearly wringing her hands. "Dwalin is quizzing me on Dwarven history and the clans and their political make-up and all I can think about is …gardens!"

Brunere choked trying not to laugh. She looked around and then it was her turn to drag her friend by the arm, leading her into a side room. Obviously this one hadn't even started with the clean-up process. It was full of rubble and debris. "You read it didn't you?"

"Twice!" Erelinde wailed, hiding her face in her hands.

Brunere ruthlessly pulled her friend's hands down, her own violet eyes eager with excitement. "I want to read it next!"

"Oh dear." The young blonde began fanning her heated face with her hand. "What am I supposed to do? Dwalin keeps demanding if I read any of the material he set me up with."

"Did you?" Brunere asked, then laughed as her friend shot her a glare. "Did you read any of the other books?"

"I may have, perhaps, glanced at them." Their titles and chapter headings at least. She danced around the truth a bit. "Now I can't look at him! Thankfully that elf isn't with him today."

"I heard Glorfindel is out with the King looking over the defenses." Brunere told her, trying to be helpful.

Erelinde sighed dramatically. "So, not gone as in gone gone? That means that I'll have to see him again and I don't think I can!"

"Why? How detailed is that book?" Brunere's jaw slackened as her eyes widened.

Sky-blue eyes blinked rapidly as Erelinde shrugged. Brunere hissed at her and the blonde caved. "The second part of the poem? Is in her words. How she felt with him …touching …and tasting." Her words lowered into a hoarse whisper.

A shocked breath. "Tasting?" Her friend repeated, echoing the whisper.

If possible Erelinde's face reddened even further. She shook her head.

Brunere suddenly chuckled, "you mean kissing. Of course you mean kissing. Several of my suitors over the years have kissed me, though until now none of them seemed right."

"Until now?" Erelinde's eyes sharpened and she stared hopefully at her friend. "You've made a decision."

It was Brunere's turn to blush as she shook her head. "Maybe. I think." She licked her lips. "I want mam to meet him first."

"Wise." Erelinde nodded, still looking a bit shaken though. "Maybe I should let your mam meet Fili. Find out what she thinks."

Brunere grabbed her friend's shoulders, then winced as this strained her broken hand. "Don't you dare! Your da loves the prince, and so do you!"

Erelinde nearly buckled at the knees as she shook her head. Brunere nodded at her firmly. The blonde crafter dropped her gaze, reluctantly nodding.

"Why the hesitation?" The violet-eyed dam asked. "He is the first to ever get your attention, and then to hold it! He obviously cares a great deal for you. Are you still frightened because you think you can't hold his interest? I think you're wrong."

"No, no." Erelinde sighed. "It's just Dwalin and these politics. You once told me you couldn't see me in the middle of Dwarven politics. I'm thinking you were right."

"No!" Brunere yelped, appalled. "Don't you dare! I said that before the attack, before I saw you grieve for Fili when we all thought he Waited. Darling, you are so in love with him that it makes me catch my breath in wonder."

Sky-blue eyes took on a look of near panic as she shook her head. "But the politics!"

"You will make a great queen!" Brunere avowed, standing up straight and tall and staring right into her friend's gaze. She reached out and flicked Erelinde's hair. "You've been practicing nashatal braids."

Erelinde's jaw dropped open as she sputtered, shaking her head.

"You've redone your braids and even though you don't have enough time to even turn around and breathe with all the work we've been doing, and plus Dwalin's schoolwork …you've washed and scented your hair. And you're wearing your father's beads you got for your majority. Does he know?"

Defensively, Erelinde's hands went to her head. "I had dust and grime everywhere. I just needed a bath! There is nothing telling about me wearing da's beads. Sealyn does too!"

"And to get time alone to bathe you had to do so in the wee hours. Did you take the book with you?" Brunere's eyes sparkled with humor. "I'm sure you took the one about ancient Dwarven kingdoms."

Erelinde batted at her friend half-heartedly. "Will you tease me like this even after I become queen?"

"I promise."

Erelinde stared at her friend, eyes wide and nerves jangling as she'd just spoken aloud about actually getting married. "This is your fault." She muttered.

The violet-eyed dam shrugged. "You're the one who fell in love."

"You and Sealyn talked my da into bringing me along to Erebor sooner rather than later." Erelinde gave a soft snarl.

"Ah, I wondered if you'd realized that." Came the rather smug reply.

"I'm often too focused on crafting, it doesn't make me stupid." Muttered the irritated blonde as she crossed her arms. "I just wanted to get here and be able to craft all winter, prepare for the Mastery tests." She hadn't counted on Fili.

"Now you can add learning about all sorts of clan politics to your list of accomplishments." Brunere said in a rather sing-songy voice. "You didn't think there was a dwarrow out there who you could fall in love with, did you?"

"I'll never forgive you." Erelinde said, meaning nothing of the kind.

Brunere, knowing this, smiled gently at her friend. "Queen."

"Really never forgive you." Erelinde's voice stiffened in response. "And just for that, you can't borrow the book for at least a week."

"Aw." Violet eyes nearly danced with good humor. "Yes ….your majesty." She teased.

Having turned toward the door when her friend called her that, Erelinde spun around with a strange look on her face. "Not funny!"

"Of course." And with that, just to add fuel to the fire, Brunere gave a deep curtsy.

Sky-blue eyes nearly crossed with temper before the lass finally cracked a smile. "You're not very subservient to one you claim as your queen."

"Marry him first."

Erelinde stepped out into the hallway to get away from her friend, only to come face to face with the King and Glorfindel, accompanied by her father. "Oh!" She hastily sketched a respectful curtsy.

The king nodded and started to move away. Erelinde kept her gaze carefully anywhere but at the tall elf, as if he might be able to see into her mind and know she'd read that book of poetry. More than the twice she'd admitted to.

"Daughter." Fergard smiled at her warmly and then started to move away. He stopped, turned and glanced at her hair, where she wore the beads that showed he was her sire and he stood for her against any enemy. Or for any other reason as well. His eyes lit up, but he said nothing, merely smiling as he turned to follow the king and continue their discussion on repair work.

Beside her, Brunere started to hum happily.

"A month, you can't read it for a month." Erelinde vowed.

The other dam shrugged happily. "I have four beads. I can learn all about kissing if I want, don't need a book."

Erelinde nodded, debating internally on what to say and how to phrase it best. Finally she cleared her throat. "Tasting doesn't refer to kissing." She hinted broadly. "And it all sounds rather darkly scandalous. I've certainly never heard of the like before."

Brunere's head whipped around so she was staring at her friend. "What do you mean by that? Tell me! Please?"

Erelinde smiled and walked away as casually as she could manage.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The red covered the white, soaking it. Melting the top layer of snow with the heat of life dissipating as it flowed from the bodies of the slain. The battlefield was full of cries and torn flesh, the screams of pain and the silence of death.

"We lost five." Dori said without ceremony as he approached the prince as Fili was cleaning his blades. "Three Blacklocks."

Meaning two had been Longbeards of Dain's warriors. Fili's eyes had already searched out Dori and Bifur, counting them among the living. "Burn the bodies."

Dori disapproved, his face turning stoic. It wasn't the Khazad way where burial was the norm, unlike some of the other races.

Fili's eyes hardened. "We haven't the time and the ground is too frozen, and even if it were summer we are in the mountain passes and cannot dig, not here." Not with the amount of time they had.

Dori sighed, looking up at the setting sun.

"We ride through the night. The preparations and then the battle gave the mounts a rest." Fili said, sliding yet another of his many blades into the proper sheath. "We got lucky, the force coming against us wasn't well prepared for mountain fighting. Took them out swiftly. We can, and will, push on now."

"We can carry them with us." Dori protested, not disagreeing with the prince but hating the thought.

"Burn the bodies. Not them, just ours." Fili ordered, drawing a hurt look from his companion and friend. He shook his head at Dori, whose heart was at least as strong as his arms, but who could be more tender-hearted than Ori at times. "We can't search for enough fuel for separate fires."

"It's disrespectful."

"It's prudent." Fili insisted, turning a hard look at his friend. He sighed heavily. "It's not my wish, but we need to be away and we need to be gone hours ago. I took the time for this battle because we couldn't leave them breathing down our necks. But that weather is already turning bad, and we are on the wrong side of these rocks."

Dori grunted, hearing truth although reluctantly. He turned to carry out the orders of the Crown Prince, passing Sil as that dwarrow approached.

"Everyone well?" Fili asked.

"Well enough, a few cuts and bruises, but no more."

Fili grunted, glad to have the good news. The dams and young had been hidden in some shallow outcroppings, not quite caves. Protected though.

"Lost my sons though."

Sil's voice wasn't grief stricken, which Fili took to mean that the dwarven father did not mean the lads waited. He raised an eyebrow, much like he'd often seen Thorin doing over the years.

"Befael and Desil now have a new hero to admire and aspire towards." Sil smiled, obviously not upset. "Especially Desil, now I don't think the lad has taken his eyes off you in days."

Fili sniffed. This was usually his uncle's role, not his. "He didn't get a chance to see Thorin Oakenshield on the battlefield." The prince said with a weary grin. "If he had, his eyes would be affixed elsewhere."

Sil nodded and thanked the prince again. He knew he and his family owed Fili twice over for their lives. Taking them and theirs out of the Human settlement, and then again now. "Hear tell we're heading out again." He looked unsure.

Fili understood. Here was a crafter, a dwarrow who fought because he had to, not because it was in his blood. He wasn't a true warrior, but that was just fine. "We push and we push hard. We're leaving fires behind." He didn't mention the bodies in those fires. "By the time the remaining orcs and goblins find them, we shall be long gone."

"It'll be harsh on the dwarflings."

Fili nodded, finishing up with his blades. They were now cleaner and sharper than he was. "I know."

Sil nodded slowly, giving in to the aura of command. Trusting. But he didn't move away just yet.

Fili waited, then coughed to garner attention.

Sil took a deep breath and sighed. "Ye courting a Blacklock, your majesty?"

Fili was caught out by surprise, both by the address but also the question. He shook his head. "I have home and hearth at Erebor, waiting to wear my beads." Please.

The dwarrow relaxed a bit as he nodded. "Though if you were, she'd not be bad as a queen I'd be guessing. Still, not a Longbeard."

Fili snorted and didn't answer further. Nothing more needed saying.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I can't do it!" Kili whined, deliberately leaning so far off of his chair that he rolled onto the floor. There he laid, spread eagle and with his tongue poking out as if dead.

Elrohir blinked, raising his hand to his mouth as if to wipe at a crumb or something, but only to hide his smile as he looked away.

Balin outright laughed, shaking his head. They were all seated in the healing hall, gathered around Elladan who was sitting up in a large over-stuffed chair. Blankets and a roaring hearth fire helped keep the elf lord warm, as well as the rooms other occupants.

Tauriel toed him with her boot, eying his antics with bemusement.

Elladan, who'd just finished walking the length and breadth of the hallway outside thrice, sighed. He was weary, but at least not shaky with exhaustion anymore. "At least if you're going to keel over, it is within the healing halls."

"What's keel over mean?" Kili said, his eyes still closed.

"It's a nautical term." Elrohir explained.

"Naughty?"

Tauriel snorted lightly. "Do not. I know you know the word 'nautical' as we have discussed Cirdan being known as the Shipwright before."

Kili slitted his eyes, peering over at his beloved. "Tell tale." He whispered to her.

"Keel over means that a boat has capsized and turned on its side so far that it cannot recover without assistance." Elladan smiled down at his son. "Tired of sitting again?"

"Just tired." Kili abruptly sat back up, though he was still on the floor. He scooted backwards until he was leaning up against Tauriel's legs. There he relaxed.

Her hand went to his hair, softly carding through the loose waves away from the braids and beads that marked him as a Dwarf. He hummed happily, moving his head in a cat-like manner as if being petted.

"Tired of sniping and comments and jabs and …"

Balin sighed from where he sat, sewing something with needle and thread. "You knew it would be like this before even coming this way."

Kili nodded, though not enough to dislodge the red-head's touch. "I don't know if I can take a whole winter."

"You already win some over." Tauriel said lightly.

Kili frowned, not sure he believed that. He turned the subject. "Eol. He was an elf who was friends with Dwarves?"

Elladan stilled, then slowly nodded. "The Dark Elf."

Balin peeked up, intrigued. "I'm not sure that I can place that name."

"Maeglin's father." Elladan admitted. "He'd left Doriath, choosing to live in the forest realms. He is known as the Dark Elf for wanting to live in the shadows of the trees rather than in the Kingdom of Light."

Kili snorted. "Then shouldn't Thranduil be known as a Dark Elf as well? Ow." He reached back, capturing Tauriel's hand in his own as she'd caught a snag in his hair. "Careful, love."

"Don't be rude." Elladan said, not sure if this would be taken lightly or not. To his relief, while Kuilaith grumbled about Thranduil, he did not appear to be offended.

"Eol became friends with the Dwarves of the Blue Mountains. He learned many of their forging ways. So much so that he crafted marvelous swords, including the one that became the Black Sword, Gurthang." Elrohir said with a sadness.

Kili perked up though. "Black Sword?" He looked intrigued.

Balin though shook his head. "Another time, another night. We have plenty of time. Return to Eol, if you would please? I have, of course, heard of Maeglin, but not so on his father."

Kili seemed disappointed to be thwarted, but settled back to listen to the tale of Eol and his son, who would grow up to betray the city of Gondolin. He learned of the elf who preferred the twilight, the world under the light of the stars rather than the sun. Of an elf who was ill at ease within either Doriath or Gondolin, and unable to live with the Noldor as they had slain his kin, the Teleri.

Kili frowned, not having enjoyed the tale of the Kinslaying in the slightest. He had sympathy for Eol's distrust of the Noldor, even though he was technically now one of them.

Elrohir finished, telling of Maeglin's fate as foretold by his father. Both thrown to their deaths from the city walls.

Kili was silent for a long time, staring off into the fire. "I can't say that I'd be thrilled to be told I couldn't go back to my lands, nor take my wife and child with me. That doesn't even take into account how Eol felt about the Noldor, or why."

Elladan nodded. "No. But Eol did not consider that his realm was protected by Noldor swords and blood. He took their protection, but could not live by their rules."

"Was it right to try and kill your own son, rather than let him live with his mother in Gondolin?" Balin asked, pondering the story he'd just learned. "I'm not sure of the other parts, but that one seems quite clear to me."

Kili wasn't as sure as his cousin. "To be held against their will though."

"He would have been welcomed." Elladan said quietly.

"He would have been a prisoner, even if there had been no bars or cell." Kili scrunched up his nose as he shook his head. "Eol was wrong to try and kill Maeglin, and he ended up killing his wife by mistake. That is truly tragic, and I can see why he was punished. But I'm not sure about why they wanted to keep him in Gondolin against his will in the first place. Couldn't he have gone back home, even if his wife and son chose not to go with him?"

"Morgoth. The great evil."

His father's words caused a shiver of something foul running up and down his spine. Kili shuddered at the name.

"You don't realize just how dark those days really were. Sauron is bad, but Morgoth was worse. And he had won. There had been a great alliance with Maedhros, the Naugrim, Edain and other Noldor. They marched upon Morgoth. But in Nirnaeth Arnoediad they were defeated. Rulers of Men, Elves, and yes even the Dwarves, fell." Elladan continued his voice subdued.

"The Battle of Unnumbered Tears." Tauriel translated the name.

"Gondolin was one of the last free places. Only made so by devout secrecy for several hundred years. No. Anyone who found their way there were not permitted to leave, it was for protection. Proven by how it was destroyed."

"Betrayed from within." Kili said bitterly, nodding. "I understand. I just, it wasn't Eol's fault. It was his son. I just …"

"Feel sorry for him?" Elladan contemplated the thought for a moment. "Perhaps you see a bit of yourself. Friendly with the Dwarves, wanting to live under your own auspices, forced to live away from where you are happy?"

Kili stared at his father and then surprised everyone with a wide grin. He pointed at Elladan, shaking his head. "You read far too much into that. Eol was forced to stay, fine. He should have found a way to sneak out, perhaps in some barrels. Trying to kill his son was poorly done, even if it might have saved the city if he'd succeeded. It was still badly done. I feel for anyone held like that, but he had other recourses."

Balin chuckled. "Oh those barrels. I swear I smelt like fish for two weeks after."

Elladan sat back, tired but pleased. He enjoyed spending the evening with his son, even if he had a long way to go in understanding him. "Tell me about the barrel ride again, I like that story."

"Explain how Bilbo got you all free. I've never been quite clear on that part of it." Elrohir asked, stretching as he rose to refill wine glasses. "Oh. And I think King Thranduil has fallen in love with the bubbly wine you brought for him."

Tauriel smiled widely, biting lightly at her bottom lip to keep from laughing. The king had nearly been ecstatic over the taste of the gifted wine. "Don't tell him it comes from the Blacklocks, make him deal for the wine through Thorin. It will help those two get along better."

"Good idea lass!" Balin beamed at the she-elf proudly.

"Now. About Bilbo and getting you out of the prison cells. I've never been real clear on that part either." Tauriel admitted, pulling lightly at Kili's hair as their pleasant evening continued.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin handed the list to Ori, blinking his dry eyes in an effort to draw some moisture in order to soothe them. It was barely working. "Well?" He demanded.

Ori's eyes widened and he shook his head. "That was it, that was the last one."

"The last one?" Thorin repeated the words, as if not comprehending the words. "What do you mean, the last what?"

"Report, sire." Ori bobbed his head a few times, looking a bit smug. "The next round shouldn't be coming your way for another three hours." When the king only stared blankly at him, the younger dwarrow shuffled his feet a bit. "I could maybe stretch it to four hours?"

"I have three hours until I have to make any more decisions or meet with anyone?" Thorin sounded dumbfounded. "Then why am I wasting it here? Bath or bed? Food?"

"Your chambers have been cleaned, although not much more than that. The water is running in your bathroom again and I sent for a tray just a moment ago."

Thorin stared at his young cousin, claimed no matter how distant the tie, or disreputable. He grinned like a dwarfling offered a sweet. "I'm free?"

"Three hours, sire." Ori said, following his king as Thorin stalked toward his rooms.

Erelinde burst through the door, arms crossed and sky-blue eyes afire.

Ori actually paled.

Thorin sighed. "No. I have nothing to say and nothing to do. Come back in three hours!" He snapped, starting to step around the child.

Erelinde moved to block his path. "Three times? You're thinking of raising the Guild tithes by three times? The crafting guilds will not take that lightly, returned Erebor or not. I can see why we might need special rates for a short length of time, until the crafting halls are repaired and supplies are plentiful. But raising the guild tithes by that much with no end date in sight. It's unreasonable, unfathomable, and unacceptable."

Dwalin ran into the area, almost hopping on his good foot. Thorin stared at him, his eyes wide. "I am doing what?"

"Raising the Guild tithes." Erelinde snapped at him.

The king drew back, staring at the lass as if he'd never seen her before. "Who are you?"

"Funny." The usually shy dam groused. "You send Master Dori out on duty, and in his absence you try and flank the guilds with this increase in tithes? We are beholden to the crown, of course we are. And the guilds will certainly pay their dues. But this kind of tyranny is unheard of! Or should be!"

"Dwalin?" Thorin turned to his friend and cousin, a note of panic and blame in his voice. "What did you do?"

The bald warrior shrugged. "She was mixing up the clan hierarchies and I asked her what she would do if you raised the guild tithes by three fold."

"A half percent, or maybe one for a year. No three years would be better." Erelinde was thinking aloud it seemed. "But only at half a percent. It would help defray the kingdom's cost outlays but be a reasonable solutions to the guilds. Or the main ones. The glass blowers have always had different rates, based on the availability of supplies. It's the quality of the sand that matters, of course."

Thorin nodded, then scowled. "I am not raising the guild tithes by three."

Erelinde blew out a breath, nodding as she looked relieved. "Dwalin said you were."

"I said …if. IF!"

"You said when." Erelinde corrected him. "You made it a deal already accomplished."

"Ori. Did I raise the guild tithes?" Thorin sighed, rubbing wearily at his temples. "Tell her I didn't."

Ori paled, refusing to answer.

"Ori?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	67. In which Glorfindel makes a new friend

"What are you working on, Balin?" Kili asked curiously, as he walked up behind the seated dwarf. Before them both roared a merry hearth fire in an open sitting area that was near deserted. Briefly the young prince wondered if it would normally be so clear of elves, or if their absence was because of the closeness of the dwarvish guests.

One glance around the area showed that the other elves were either being polite and not paying attention in order to give the dwarrow some privacy, or they were being utterly rude and ignoring them. Kili felt the bite of his temper, and the increasing effort it was taking to hold his tongue.

"Something to wear, lad." Chuckled the white-bearded advisor, unaware of Kili's inner struggles. The prince focused on this male whom he'd looked up to his entire life. Balin's beard appeared to be gleaming and freshly coiffed, nearly the equal of the blinding snow and ice that glittered and blanketed the world outside.

Kili was grateful for the shelter here in the Mirkwood, but at the same time, resentful. He was feeling more than a little trapped here even after less than a week in residency. His fingers twitched a bit as he looked around, unsure and uneasy.

As if sensing the unsettled nature of his prince's mood, Balin shot him a glance from the corner of his eyes. "Want to help?"

"I have clothes." Kili answered absently.

"Well, I don't." Balin scoffed openly at the lad's disinterest. "I have been wearing the same clothing for near a week, spot cleaning them to be sure but it grows old."

Surprised, Kili turned his dark-eyed gaze onto his uncle's closest advisor and friend as if noticing him for the first time. His eyes melted as he shook his head, realizing belatedly what must have happened. "You have Dwalin's gear." Why hadn't he noticed? Too distracted by all the foreign elvish fripperies about him?

"I do indeed." Balin nodded with a chuckle. "Elrohir has been kind enough to gain for me some materials to alter or make do, but I am no Dori." He said of their fellow Company companion, and a craft master.

Kili could sew, and do it well, but only for basic things. Growing up poor meant you leant your hands to whatever was needed. And Dis wasn't one to stand on ceremony when passing out chores. "I'll help."

Balin shot the younger dwarrow a look, then grinned in appreciation. "Most kind of ye, lad. Haven't seen too much of you lately."

Kili flushed slightly as he pulled up a low foot stool to perch upon. Some of the Elvish chairs being too high to sit comfortably. "Thranduil seeks me out." He said airily.

"He is our host."

"I think he wishes to be our gaoler. Again." He sneered, thinking of the dark cells of the Elvish king.

"He feeds us better this time around." Teased Balin, not put off by the prince's rather sour expression. "Yes, yes, he needles you lad. But you won the heart of the lovely and brave Miss Tauriel, whilst his son did not."

Kili caught his breath, nodding slowly though his lips did not form their more habitual smile.

As if sensing the prick of unrest his words had caused, Balin's wise old gaze narrowed. "Something wrong with Tauriel?"

Dark hair shifted as Kili quickly shook his head, then he frowned, calling into question his original response. He peeked over at Balin. "She hesitates."

"About what?"

"Nothing. Everything. To take my hand, to walk with me, to let me hold her."

Balin smiled easily, shaking his own head. "In public. For I have noticed no such hesitancy when we are alone and sharing the news of our days." He said of the nightly grouping of those from Erebor, including the twin elf lords.

Troubled, Kili shrugged.

Unconcerned, Balin smiled reassuringly. "Ask her if it worries you so. But I don't doubt her love. It could be that aren't that demonstrative in public or some such."

Frowning, Kili shrugged again. "I've seen other couples holding hands." He groused.

Balin leaned back and watched as Kili threaded a spare needle with ease. "Put that down." He groaned, shaking his head.

"What? Why?" The young brunet asked, looking down at the tunic he'd selected to work on.

"Because that is red thread and yet a blue tunic." Complained the elder dwarrow.

Kili looked down and clearly didn't understand the problem. "The seam will be on the inside."

"The stitches will show."

"Not under your leathers. No one will know."

"I will know!" Countered Balin with a laughing groan. "Go, seek out your she-elf lad. I am sure that I can handle my clothing difficulties. Thank you for the offer of help."

Kili could have offered to switch thread color, but feeling antsy, he got to his feet as if given a reprieve.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Careful."

Elladan shot his brother a look promising retribution, but instead of cowing his twin, his mirror image merely smirked at him. He shifted his stance, sliding one foot a quarter turn while committing his weight to the opposite leg. Muscles quivered, but held. Moisture dripped down one side of his face while he gritted his teeth at the effort.

"You push yourself too fast, too far."

Another weight shift, lifting one foot upwards in a pattern for basic swordplay, Elladan executed a turn at a quarter of his normal speed. He swayed, unable to find his usual balance, though was able to self-correct before his brother could reach him. He snarled as Elrohir neared. His brother backed off, with obvious reluctance, his hands held up in the air in a sign of surrender.

"You are blessed to be still alive. Are you trying to finish what Sauron could not?" Elrohir may have backed off physically, but not verbally it seemed.

Elladan, nearly panting from exertion, dropped the training stance and walked over to a chair for the towel he'd tossed earlier. With that he wiped the sweat clinging to the sides of his face and forehead. He looked up as a cup presented itself to him, following the line of the arm to the blank and neutral expression of his twin brother. Reluctantly and with ill grace he grabbed the cup of spring water and drained it.

Silence dragged on between the twins. Finally, with a sigh, Elladan ducked his head. "Kuilaith suffers here."

"He will stand." Elrohir defended his nephew. "And we cannot leave until winter loosens her grasp on these lands. The mountain passes will be closed even after that." He paused and pinned his brother with a look. "Kuilaith is strong, he will be fine."

"He chafes. As would anyone. Thranduil …." Elladan sneered for a moment before the expression faded. "Thranduil does and says nothing that we can answer to, nothing that we can cry offensive. But he continually pokes and prods at my son, and Kuilaith's temper already simmers."

"So to recover faster, you push yourself over hard?" Elrohir shook his head with worry. "You will set your recovery back, not forward. We cannot leave this realm for a lengthy while yet. Do not render our reason for coming here moot by killing yourself off."

A baleful look from his own face drew a chuckle from Elrohir. Elladan tossed the towel back down and moved back into the center of the room, taking up the sword stance once more.

"Don't. Please."

Elladan ignored his brother's voice as he moved his feet in a pattern he'd known for well over two millennia.

"Brother." The word wasn't spoken aloud this time, but rather in his head. Harder to ignore. Spoken word had inflection, but projected thoughts carried emotions. In this case, worry, love, understanding, fear, and disappointment.

Elladan's knees nearly buckled and he stilled. Before he could respond, however, the door opened as Kuilaith walked in. Dark eyes scanned the room but the face didn't light up.

Elrohir smiled gently, guessing at the reason. "I believe she is seeking out the company of old friends but should return soon enough."

"Stop reading my mind." Kili groused, nearly hunching his shoulders in automatic defense.

"I do no such thing, I simply see your eyes and expression and make a guess that appears to be on target." Countered his uncle.

Kili's eyes moved away from the speaker to the elf that was his father. Perhaps some more elvish history to pass the afternoon? That plan failed to even form fully as he saw the paleness of Elladan's face, under the sweat of great effort. His own expression clouded.

"I recover." Elladan assured him as he blew out a frustrated breath. "In fact, perhaps we can train together. You might be ahead of me physically for a time, though."

Kili glared at the taller elf and then grinned evilly. "Remember when Thorin told you that father and son can remove barriers to physical closeness as warranted?"

Elladan and his brother both had a memory flash of Kili covered in dust and unable to breathe. Then of the moment in the pool where father had held the son close regardless of Kili's embarrassment.

"Don't make me come over there and pick you up and make you rest." Kuilaith threatened.

Elladan's eyebrows shot up. In his head a mental image formed of his son doing just as threatened, a humorous visual provided by Elrohir. The aggrieved father sent back an image of him fending off Kuilaith with ease, keeping him at arm's length. In retaliation, Elrohir amended the mental picture to him sweeping Elladan's legs out from under him and leaving Kuilaith to actually carry the recovering elf lord.

"You're doing that mental talky thing again, aren't you?" Sighed Kuilaith sounding grumpy. "Not fair to leave me out of the conversation."

Pride was racially inherent to both races of Elves and Dwarves. Elladan licked his lips and nodded at his son. "My apologies." He bowed slightly. "I will sit and rest if you will join us and work on talking mind to mind."

Elrohir smiled at the compromise. Kuilaith would get his father to rest, while Elladan would still feel the time to be productive.

"Unless you'd rather seek out Thranduil for another of his 'chats'." Teased Elladan pointedly.

Kuilaith made a face of disgust, drawing a chuckle from both elves.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin scowled at the three messages laid out before him on his new desk. In front of him Ori stood with his face flaming red and his head hanging low.

Dwalin sat on a nearby stool, his arms crossed and his facial expression set on disgruntled.

"This is only the start." The king spoke in a measured, calm voice that went beyond scary to genuine threat. "There will be far more than three soon enough."

Sweat dripped down Ori's face as he opened his mouth.

"No more apologies." The king barked out the order with considerable force, his face a mask of burning anger barely controlled.

Ori's mouth shut with a snap, his hands clenching tightly in the effort not to speak up.

The vein next to Thorion's left eye twitched and he shook his head. "Go. Go make more lists of things that need doing. Then bring them to me, don't take them on by yourself!" His voice rose with each word until he was at a roar.

Ori bowed and took himself off.

Silence.

Dwalin shifted, drawing Thorin's stare. The bald warrior yawned in deliberate provocation of his king's ire, looking bored.

Thorin scoffed, then sighed, finally he gave a tired shrug. "Three times the guild tithes." He shoved the messages on his desk away. "The guilds will have my head before I can have a formal coronation. These messages make it clear they feel that I've lost my mind! The first two are barely polite, the third, from the iron workers doesn't even come close to being courteous."

"You told Ori to take on some responsibilities, like Balin does." Dwalin said in his gruff voice.

"Balin knows how to do that!" Thorin rather threw himself back into his chair. A new one that was not nearly as comfortable as his last. That only angered him further. It just didn't fit him well. "Where did they find this thing?"

Ignoring the last question, Dwalin focused on the important matter. "Ori just needs seasoning. He's young. He made a mistake, one that can be fixed even if it costs you some pride."

Thorin stood, growling as he bared his teeth at his chair. For the life of him he couldn't see anything wrong with the thing. It just didn't feel right. "He sent out missives to the guild with requests to raise the tithes by three times by the time they reached Erebor. It was supposed to be three percent, not three times!"

Dwalin nodded thoughtfully, watching as Thorin picked up his chair and tested the legs with a focused look in his eyes. He waited until his monarch righted the seat and tested it out. By the king's expression he could tell it still didn't suit. "Erelinde wasn't impressed with three percent. Relieved it wasn't three fold, but still unhappy."

Thorin rose with a fury, turning to glare at his chair once more. He bared his teeth even as he answered Dwalin. "I don't care if she's happy or not. Chit isn't even a master yet."

"Will be. If not this year, then soon. Dori's judged her work so far, and while it's not a full testing he is a good indicator." Dwalin looked down at his nails with a soft frown, not that he cared about the state of his hands other than functional.

"She bearded me in my study." Thorin looked up, sapphire eyes blazing mad. "Marched right in without knocking or anything!"

"You don't have a door to knock on right now." Pointed out Dwalin, even as he had the gall to yawn as if without a care in the world.

Thorin glared at him, turned and walked over to where his magnificent sword was within easy reach. Unsheathing Orcrist, the blade nearly sang as it sliced through the air itself before cleaving what had been the king's chair into two halves. Well, two halves and several small chunks and pieces.

Dwalin watched as the king's labored breathing slowed. He look a moment, then nodded. "Feel better?"

"Strangely, yes." Thorin chuckled and let himself start to relax. "She marched right in and let me have it, Dwalin."

"Aye." The bald warrior frowned lightly. "More gumption than I gave her credit for. Maybe she wouldn't be an utter disaster as queen."

"Having a craft Master on the throne would go a long way in appeasing the guilds. The guilds that, thanks to Ori, I have now completely enraged." Thorin sheathed his blade and put it aside once more, but still within reach. Having Saruman turn traitor in this very room still had him on edge and looking for trouble even in the mundane.

"Want me to go out?"

And there it was.

Thorin's eyes turned worried as he set his jaw, shaking his head negatively. Where was Fili? The lad was overdue and the snows were well and truly here. The white stuff blanketed the area and travel, already dangerous, was now even worse.

"Glorfindel assures me that he can run nearly atop the snow." Dwalin paused and shook his head with light disgust. "I believe him. My only surprise is that he is even asking as he is not beholden to your rule. He can come and go as he pleases."

Uneasy, Thorin nodded. "He is ….a friend." He said, some bitterness as well as some awe in his tone.

"He asks today, tomorrow he might already be out looking." Dwalin grunted. "That elf worries over Fili too." He shrugged at the mysteries of fate that had placed the ancient hero within their midst. A male elf who had ridden against them now standing as an ally.

Horns sounded, making both dwarrow freeze in place, listening. Faces taut, the two cousins glanced at each other. What now? More attacks? Fili arriving back home? Elves from the Mirkwood with ill news?

As one they headed toward the hallway. Thorin went through the space that had once held his door. Dwalin walked through the space that had once held a wall, ignoring the pain in his wounded leg and foot as he limp-stalked behind his king and cousin.

Dwalin saw the messenger approach the king, speaking in low tones he couldn't hear as he hurried forward to catch up. He saw and felt Thorin's relief as if it were a tangible thing. He nodded. "Fili?" He guessed.

"Spotted and approaching, nearly tunneling through the snow and ice but will be here shortly." Thorin scowled, but this expression did not hold the weight of temper. Instead it was the anger of relief so strong it would threaten to take the iron out of a dwarrow's blood and bones. "Took him long enough!"

Dwalin nodded, then grabbed a messenger to send to Glorfindel. He didn't want the elf to sneak out to look for Fili on his own now that the lad was returning.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili looked around with near despair. The afternoon hadn't proven fruitful as far as mind-speaking had gone. He just couldn't seem to get the hang of it.

At least the efforts at teaching him had left Elladan so weary that he'd had no choice but to lie down to rest.

Not knowing where Tauriel had gone off to visit, and not wanting to be cooped up inside, Kili had elected for a walk.

It was cold and icy, but with a stark beauty all its own. He was bundled up warmly enough and it should have been a nice quiet moment. Alone with his thoughts.

Only he wasn't alone.

Dark eyes slid from side to side, finding elvish guards standing silently with him. Ignoring him and allowing him to act as if alone, but not really being alone. It wasn't good enough.

"I don't need an escort."

His words fell on deaf ears, apparently.

"I want to be alone." Kili tried again.

The two elf guards shared a look, making the dwarf wonder if they were speaking silently. Which only increased his temper because he himself couldn't do that yet. As one the two guards moved away, one leaping upwards into a tree.

Kili sighed. It was only the illusion of being alone. He still could see the guards, and feel their presence bearing down on him. He took a deep, bracing breath of clean, crisp winter air. Lifting his face toward the sky, he wished he could feel the sun shining down on him.

Clouds and branches of a myriad of trees blocked direct sunlight. He wondered which way he'd have to go to find the river from which he and the Company had first escaped the Mirkwood. The rocks along that shore wouldn't have tree cover and he could stand beneath the sun.

Unlike a true Khazad.

That thought kept him rooted in place. Was his wish to be free under the light of heaven due to his partially elvish blood? Or his upbringing above ground? He loved Erebor, from the deepest deep to the highest high, but part of him still loved being outdoors. It worried at him a little, but at least he now had an excuse for not wanting to be underground all the time.

Voices carried over the frigid air and his feet turned of their own volition in that direction.

Above ground or under it, Kili was not someone who longed for solitude, not usually. Though as he neared, he slowed as if sensing something amiss at the edge of his awareness.

"Ah, a visitor. Come to join in?"

That voice. Kili winced. Trenien.

"Come now, you can't slip away unseen. You came out here tromping like a herd of elk, no finesse. You could have been heard approaching from a mile away."

No help for it. He wasn't some coward to cut bait and run. Kili closed his eyes, regretting coming this way, yet he stepped forward into a clearing.

As much as he didn't want to be here, his breath still caught when he opened his eyes once more. A small pond, glittering like crystal, having frozen over looking like the most expensive glass. Shining under the sun, though that heavenly body wasn't warming anything, so the ice remained.

A few of the elves caught the wonder and appreciation in the dwarven prince's expression. One or two even nodded at him in what wasn't friendship, but wasn't animosity or disinterest either.

"Do you enjoy gliding?"

Kili nearly dropped his head in despair. Thranduil. Of course the king was out here too. He turned, finding the elvish monarch behind him, walking forward. "Gliding?" He repeated the word, unsure of what it meant.

Thranduil raised a hand and pointed. Kili turned and saw one of the elf ladies …well, there wasn't any other word for it …she was gliding …across the ice. His eyes widened in alarm, sure she'd fall through the ice at any moment and waiting for the ominous cracking sounds.

Only they didn't come. Oh right. Lighter bones, no where near the body weight of a good dwarf. "No. We'd break through the ice."

"Too bad." Thranduil shrugged blithely, moving forward to watch, his hands behind his back in a regal posture. He smiled as he watched. "It is a favored pastime here in my kingdom."

"We don't have much of winter games." Kili admitted, even as he watched another elf make a slow, elegant turn before stepping off of the ice to join a friend.

"Well, of course not." Trenien sniped. "It doesn't snow below ground."

"Grew up in Ered Luin, hardly below ground." Kili bit out the words, then clenched his jaw to keep from saying more. Instead he shrugged, fighting to keep his voice in check. "We sledded."

"Ah." Thranduil nodded thoughtfully. "My father used to speak of such things, but we have too many trees here for such. For the most part.

"Oh, but your highness, there is a small hill here." Trenien walked over to the edge of a dip in the area. "It doesn't have to be very high, as he is only a dwarf. What seems like a mere step to us would be as a mountain to him." His eyes glittered with something dark as he gestured for Kili. "Come, try our mountain."

"You first." Kili bowed with what grace he could manage.

Thranduil frowned sharply and Kili had a moment of thinking he'd offended the king somehow. But the monarch merely looked up with a puzzled expression, "what is that? Trenien, can you make it out?"

The elf immediately looked up and stepped forward. His foot did not find purchase, slipping and landing on his backside as he slid down the small curve of the earth. He couldn't possible have been hurt, except for his pride.

Kili looked at where the elf had disappeared and back at the king, who wore no expression whatsoever. He hurried over and looked down, finding Trenien already on his feet, his face red from the laughter of the other elves.

"What?" Kili turned to look back at the king once more, but Thranduil was no longer standing there but was walking away with a studied grace, unhurried and with an erect posture. What had just happened?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Erelinde held her breath while she braided her hair. Nashatal. Fine tremors shook her hands and she had to wave them about for a moment to try and free herself of nerves. This was it.

Marriage.

Oh, the nashatal braid would only mark the beginning of courtship, but she knew down deep that if she took this step there would be no turning back. No deciding it wasn't a right fit.

What would be Fili's expression when he saw her? Rumor had it that when the younger prince had gotten his first bead he'd kissed Tauriel right out in front of everyone! She hoped beyond measure that Fili wouldn't do that. She'd die of embarrassment if he grabbed her like that in front of the king, and her father. Not only that, it would earn the couple chaperones until they'd exchanged the third bead.

She didn't want chaperones. What she wanted was those kisses, just not in public. Erelinde smiled, thinking of a certain book of poetry. Brunere had it now, despite her threats of keeping it. Sealyn was making jealous noises already.

She wanted to feel …what was that quote? "Breathless, gasping, unable to move from the sheer beauty of the feeling that could steal the air from the body, the stars from the skies."

Quickly she finished getting ready, in a hurry though she knew it would take Fili and the others awhile yet to get to Erebor. She hurried toward her door, jumping back with a squeak when it opened as she found Dis with her hand raised as if to knock.

The Durin princess' eyes flew to Erelinde's braids and froze.

The younger dam couldn't tell what the princess was thinking, whether she was pleased or not.

Dis slowly lowered her gaze to meet sky-blue eyes. Erelinde felt the weight of that gaze, but instead of dropping her eyes she lifted her chin in subtle stubbornness. "Yes?" She dared Fili's mother to say anything about her newly done nashatal braids.

"Well." Dis cleared her throat, her eyes moving back to the braid so prominently displayed. "Thorin wanted me to tell you that there was a transcription error and that the amount was three percent, not three times."

Erelinde blinked quickly and then shook her head. "I know, he has so informed me." There was a question hidden in her statement, such as why bring this message now that Fili was arriving at the mountain?

"Yet you left messages to speak with Master Dori as soon as he arrives?"

Erelinde blushed prettily, she was no craft Master. Not yet. "Dori should be the one to speak with the king on the matter. He has a position within the Weaver's Guild, is a Master, and is …." She petered out.

"…a cousin and a member of Thorin's Company?" Dis nodded thoughtfully.

"Aye." Erelinde bit her bottom lip slightly, not sure what was going on right now. Only that the princess had not stepped out of the way so the dam could leave. Erelinde had few choices, move past the princess rudely, ask her to move, or shut the door in her face. None seemed like the thing to do.

"I'm not sure of you." Dis said.

"Well, that's rather blunt." Erelinde replied, her eyes widening somewhat though she wasn't that surprised.

"But part of my wariness might be a mother's overprotective nature." Dis admitted with a wry tilt to her mouth. "Going after Thorin in his own study? Well done. But you back off and allow Dori to make the proper negotiations? I can't decide if that's wisdom or reticence. One is useful in a queen, the other not so much."

"I keep messing up the secondary and tertiary clan hierarchies in the other main families." Erelinde couldn't believe she'd admitted that!

It was Dis' turn to look confused. "So? There are a lot of them, and the hierarchies are fluid at best."

Erelinde looked down for a moment then shook her head. "Dwalin feels it is important." Her nashatal braid swung down a bit, almost startling her.

"It is." Dis agreed with a thoughtful look. "But hardly tantamount."

Erelinde nodded, but the princess of Durin's Line still did not remove herself from the doorway. The dam stared, still unsure.

Dis stared right back at her until she groaned and shook her head. "This might sound cruel or as if an attack, but it is not meant as such."

Erelinde stiffened, but said nothing, waiting.

"I meant a quick word, but the braids in your hair bring the matter much closer to hand." Dis forced a small smile, though her eyes did not seem angry. "Crown Prince Fili will one day be King Under the Mountain. First of Durin's Line. From his blood will come the next iteration of Durin himself, if not this generation it will come eventually."

Shakily, the crafter nodded, suddenly feeling small. Fili's bloodline wasn't just above hers, it was the pinnacle of all that was important to all Longbeards. The Father of Fathers, Durin. It was a daunting prospect.

Dis held up one hand. "I think if Fili marries you, all will work out fine."

Erelinde took a shaky breath, waiting for the other stone to drop, as the old dwarrow saying went.

"I wanted to warn you though. You are among one of the first wave of dwarrowdams to enter Erebor. More will come. Dams are rare, but there will still be more. You can't …no, you should not fight for him." Dis paused, her eyes and expression turning sympathetic. "He thinks himself in love with you but he has known few dwarrowdams."

Erelinde stopped breathing as she felt the weight of the moment pressing upon her. Her fingers went defensively to her new braids.

Dis' hand stopped her. "I do not ask you to remove those."

"No?"

"No." Fili's mother looked at her sadly. "I simply ask that you realize that he will have to look around. He will have to be sure to choose wisely for himself and the kingdom, and if that choice is you I will welcome you like a daughter. I wasn't at my best when I arrived here, and I might still not be at my best. He is my first born, beloved of my heart as are both my sons actually."

The white-blonde crafter nodded a bit shakily.

"Do not hold it against him. He has a duty to this kingdom before anything else. Do not fight what has to be. Just …be yourself, and know that Fili will have to choose wisely."

"I understand that. Just not what you are wanting from me?" Erelinde said plainly.

"Just …don't fight with the other lasses when they start arriving in the Spring. It would only pain Fili to think he is causing you to worry. He will feel guilt and hurt and shame and it could poison what should be a delightful time for you both. Do not worry overmuch over this, just know he may have to court more than one." She smiled at the younger dam. "You do have him all to yourself for a time at least. You have all winter to dazzle him."

"That's not …." Erelinde began, only to stop as Dis shook her head at the lass.

"That came out wrong." The princess said with a frown. "I know you love him enough to put those braids in your hair. I saw you when he was feared Waiting. I saw you when he was found. I know you love him."

A shaky, gasping breath escaped the younger dam.

"I just want you to know that it isn't out of not-loving you that he will perhaps have to pay court to other dams as well. If he weren't Thorin's heir you two would be married sooner rather than later. But he cannot cause a rift with the other major families within the Longbeard clan by not at least meeting their eligible daughters." Dis paused and reached out, catching one of Erelinde's hands. "What I want from you is a promise not to fight this, don't cause Fili upset and pain over what he cannot control. Wait for him. If all is as I think it will be, at the end you will be wearing all his beads, and a crown as well."

Erelinde swallowed hard, finding her throat dry as a bone in the desert. "It's him, not the crown."

Dis smiled, tightening her hold upon the lasses' hand. "And that's what makes asking this of you so difficult. Just love him, child. Be strong. Give me your promise."

"Princess?"

Dis smiled wanly. "In this I am both a princess of the royal line and a concerned mother. I need your promise."

Or what? Erelinde didn't ask that aloud, she wasn't sure she wanted the answer. What Dis was asking wasn't beyond the pale. Of course Fili was the Crown Prince, and there would be definite interest in his marriage. Political interest. It made her eyes want to cross just thinking about it all.

"I promise." Erelinde said solemnly.

Dis stared at her for a lengthy moment, then nodded, but she didn't look completely happy.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"There you are. I looked everywhere for you."

Tauriel turned, a cup of something hot and steaming in her hand. "This is my chamber, where else should I be?"

"My chamber?" Kili said suggestively, a hint of a leer in his voice. He waited, but when she didn't react, he frowned. "You hesitate."

Tauriel shook her head. "Long day."

"Not just today. You have been hesitating, to be seen with me, to take my hand, to walk with me … you are perhaps ashamed?"

Green eyes suddenly seemed to be glaring at him and Kili took an actual step back before stilling. "I have nothing of which to be ashamed!"

"Good!" He grinned fiercely at her, though there was still hurt shining behind his eyes.

Tauriel groaned, rolling her shoulders. "Dwarves are more physically demonstrative in their affections, especially before others. It disconcerts me, I am unused."

"There was an elf couple holding hands on the balcony the other night."

"They have been married for over 500 years." Tauriel responded with a heart-felt sigh.

Deliberately Kili widened his eyes as if shocked. "Five-hundred years and they've only progressed to holding hands? If they actually kissed would the world fracture beneath their feet and swallow them whole?" His voice rose in pitch rather than volume, as if in complete disbelief.

It had the desired effect, Tauriel burst forth with a sharp laugh. It was quickly controlled, but it had been there. "Foolishness." She chided, though looking far more relaxed than just a moment ago.

"I think I might be able to refrain from kissing you in public. Barely." Kili grinned a bit sloppily, then shrugged. "But don't, I plead you, don't shy away from me." He held out his hand as if needing a life-line, casting his eyes downward.

Tauriel laughed again, crossing to him and taking his hand, pulling him toward her. He needed no other invitation, but quickly wrapped his arms about her lithe form, humming happily.

Her free hand went to his face, cupping the side of his cheek and running her fingers over the heavy scruff there. Kili nuzzled into her touch and it warmed places inside her that she'd never known existed. He did this to her all the time and it embarrassed her for how deeply she felt for him, though it shouldn't. He made her vulnerable, it thrilled, delighted and terrified. "I love you."

Kili stilled and looked up at her, his grin threatening to take over his face permanently. "No finer words in all the land …only …."

"Only?"

Kili snorted and shook his head. "I spent a good portion of the day trying to learn to mind-speak with my father and uncle. Nothing. I glowed, but I can't do this one. I cried out that one time, but since then I can't do it."

"I am not the best at such." Tauriel admitted, though her eyes showed her confusion. "Why bring that up now?"

"Because. I want to hear those words you just spoke, in my head. Mind to mind. I want to hear them and say them back to you. I want to know this so deep in my soul that it …I don't know! If I never mind-speak again, I want to hear you in my heart."

Green eyes met dark eyes and they shared a moment of understanding and love. She nodded. "We will work on this, together. Love."

"Alright. But for now, I came to find you in order to escort you to dinner actually."

Tauriel started a bit, not having realized the time. She nodded and offered him her hand.

Kili eyed her hand, and then her face. He raised an eyebrow, silently questioning if she wanted to be seen walking hand-in-hand with him into dinner, with King Thranduil.

She wiggled her fingers enticingly, almost in demand.

Kili laughed and took her hand in his, her fingers were warm from the hot tea she'd been holding. He raised the back of her hand to his lips. "I won't do this but in private."

Tauriel's breath caught as his lips brushed butterfly soft over her skin, drawing goose pimples out all along her spine and over her scalp. Her breath caught in wonder at how much she loved him. No matter how much she knew this already, every time something reminded her it was like a new discovery all over again. A delightful one.

She stared, tightening her hold when he would have moved toward the door.

Stilling, Kili sent her a questioning look.

"Telling you of my love with my mind."

Kili groaned, closing his eyes as he shuddered with pleasure. "I am going to have to redouble my efforts in learning this skill!"

She laughed and followed him, hand in hand.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Erelinde felt flummoxed and nearly desperate by the time she'd gained a spot among those outside, awaiting Prince Fili's return. On her way out here she'd been stopped seven times to be asked about her nashatal braids. Three had congratulated her, three had propositioned her. One had just laughed, shaking his head, unable to get a word out.

Nervously she stuck her gloved hands into the warmth of her cloak. At least out here she could keep her hood up and cover the evidence. But then how would Fili see her braids? Erelinde's lips trembled slightly, but it was an easy enough solution. While waiting, the hood stayed up. The moment he arrived, she would drop it down. So why was she so nervous?

The king stood across from her, speaking with Dwalin, Gloin and Dis. Glofindel was …well, he caught her eye and winked at her. Erelinde blushed hotly and dropped her gaze. She wondered if Brunere and Sealyn would have such a hard time meeting the elf's eyes once they'd read the book he'd obviously added to the stack of reading materials given to her. It couldn't have been Dwalin. Glorfindel made much more sense as the culprit. But why would he? For a lark and a laugh? No. He seemed amused, but not mocking. Well, he could be mocking, as she knew well enough, but didn't seem to be over this. Was he? She looked again. The elf winked.

Erelinde turned and stared at the arriving dwarrow, trying to ignore the golden-haired elf to the best of her abilities.

Fili. Her breath caught. Even wrapped up head to toe in snow encrusted gear, there was no mistake. He was there. Helping someone down from a horse. Someone whose cloak was of Blacklock colors.

The cloak had patterns on it. Pretty. Rich. Feminine.

Erelinde stiffened as she recognized Risil Blacklock just as the dam appeared to slip and almost fall into Fili's arms. So close. Erelinde's heart skipped a beat, making her breath hitch.

Other dwarrowdams? Fili would have to court others? And she'd have to let him? Her promise of only an hour ago rose up out of the depths of her soul, screaming in denial. Not that she would have this issue with the Blacklock heiress, Fili had not liked her and had delighted in escorting her from Erebor. But there would be other dams soon enough.

She needed to speak with someone? Dis? Probably not. She'd start with Sealyn and Brunere and then go from there. Mind made up, Erelinde dropped her hood back.

Fili turned back toward his warriors, issuing orders, then looked over toward the welcoming party. His eyes lit up as he spied Thorin and his mam, but slid over them seeking other eyes. His expression lit up when he spied Erelinde. Then his face fell into a look of utter shock and delight.

He'd seen her braids.

Erelinde smiled back, turning her head slightly so he'd get a better view.

Thorin looked back and forth between the two blonds and threw up his hands in mock despair, but he was grinning and laughing as he did so. He waved a hand back and forth between them even as Fili walked toward her. Stalked toward her. His face intent and predatory, longing.

Would he kiss her? Please no, not yet. Private. Private. Erelinde licked her lips, part of her hoping he would anyway.

Fili stopped in front of her, his hand going to her braids. Braids waiting to be claimed. He leaned in and she met him, their cheeks barely apart as they stood there in traditional, and appropriate, greeting. "I have missed you." She whispered.

"I have missed you more." He whispered back. "You're wearing them."

"I told you I would."

They held still for a bit too long until laughter made them reluctantly draw apart.

"Let us go inside, and we can exchange beads." Fili grinned at her. "If I try and do it now, I'm afraid my hands would shake so much I'd drop them and lose the beads in the snow."

She laughed, drawing smiles from everyone around the couple. Almost everyone. Erelinde caught sight of Risil Blacklock's face. The lass didn't look happy. "We are keeping everyone out in the cold. Come. There are fires aplenty inside, and ale and tea and whatever you need."

Erelinde smiled at the Blacklock dam as Fili looked around for his uncle. "I'll report in on what we found, did, and how many rescued. Have you word on Blacklock survivors? Risil's brother and uncle?"

"Not as yet." Thorin nodded grimly. "We waited to send word until we knew more. I'll have messages sent out within the hour."

Risil dropped into a curtsy, dropping her eyes. "I thank you. I know we parted on not the best terms, you are quite gracious to give us ease at this time."

"We will talk more, but inside." Thorin grunted. Not exactly welcoming, but to the point.

"I brought a dwarrow family from the Human Settlement. Even a few of the Men." Fili straightened before his uncle as Sil and the others moved up closer, the prince gestured to them. Desil hurried up to his favorite spot next to his hero. "They can all work and earn their place, and we can speak to Bard about taking the Humans if we need."

Thorin looked at the refugees, nodding. "We'll see. All are welcome for now. The Humans might not be happy underground, but any willing to work for now is more than a guest."

At the king's words, the newcomers should have relaxed. But Erelinde noted that there was more than one distrustful look ….at Glorfindel. The only elf outside.

Dwalin noted the looks, and scowled. "He is a friend, of mine, the king's, and of Erebor."

Sil and his family looked less than pleased. "He's an elf."

"He's trusted." Thorin made a hand gesture.

Several of the Blacklocks looked less than happy, and the newcomers were obviously not sure what to think.

Erelinde shook her head. "Come, there are dwarflings and they should not be out in this cold." She made a gesture toward a drawn and worn out looking dam. Reluctantly the dwarrowdam handed her the infant she was holding. Relieved and yet worried.

Dam's didn't trust their infants to just anyone. It was a gesture of absolute trust.

The idea came from no where, and Erelinde didn't question it. She turned and handed the infant to Glorfindel. Basically thrusting the bundle toward the elf in a manner that he could not refuse lest the child fall.

Shock filled the area as everyone froze in place.

Erelinde smiled up at Glorfindel, pretty as a picture. "Would you be so kind as to escort everyone inside to where it is warm? It would be a kindness I ask of you."

The ancient warrior stood with wide, wide eyes, his mouth slightly ajar and holding the child as if it were a precious, and possibly dangerous, item.

No one else moved or spoke. Well. The infant caught sight of the elf and grinned.

Glofindel blinked and then grinned right back. "Hello beautiful."

The mother of the infant started breathing again, though she was now clutching at her husband's hand. Sil stared at the elf, and then to the king.

Thorin nodded. "Trusted. He has fought beside me and for me against great evil. Head on inside. We will talk more." He made a gesture for Glorfindel to lead the way.

Desil tugged on Fili's cloak. "Is he a boy or girl elf?"

General laughter eased the moment as Fili grinned. "I haven't dared to ask."

"I'm holding new and precious life, don't make me hurt you, Fili." Glorfindel crooned to the child he now brought close to his chest, his voice soothing and perfect for an infant though his words were meant for the prince.

"He doesn't have a beard though." Desil seemed worried about the answer. Fili was laughing too much, so the dwarfling turned to Erelinde instead. Here he stilled. "You're pretty."

"I thank you." The crafter smiled at the charming dwarfling.

"You're wearing courting braids!" Desil piped up, his eyes widening with glee. "I learned about those! I have a brother who can court you. He's real brave and strong."

"Oh? Well, he'll have to do his own asking." Erelinde shook her head gently. "Besides. I have someone in mind and he's promised a bead to me."

"My brother can take him!" Desil said adamantly, not wanting to be denied. "Doesn't matter who it is!"

"Even me?" Fili asked with a wide grin.

Desil blinked and shook his head. "But it can't be you. Cause I saw you kissing her!"

Everyone stopped and turned, staring at Desil pointing directly toward Risil Blacklock.


	68. In which Fili does not die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stay home sick. Take cold medication. Think to yourself, I'll get a head start on the next chapter. Finish chapter and wonder how in the world you managed that. Take more medicine. I'm sick, you get an extra chapter. Enjoy!

"Fili!" The roar of protest came not from the beauty by the prince's side, but from his uncle, King Under the Mountain. "Explain!"

Torn, Fili went cold, frozen far more quickly than even the bad weather could account for. His mouth turned dry and he threw a panicked look at Risil and then turned quickly to Erelinde and finally to Thorin. "It's not true!"

Desil's little face tilted to the side and he shook his head, but when he would have spoken his father scooped him up in a big hug. "It's not the way the child makes it sound." Though he sounded a bit unsure himself. "Lad told me he wasn't courting her, that he was looking to return home for such." The dwarrow dipped his head, embarrassed to be speaking up in such august company, and on such private subject matters.

"But I don't lie!" The small child protested, confused as to why he was in trouble. Desil shook his head emphatically, his bottom lip starting to protrude. "I didn't do anything bad, I promise!"

Risil fought to keep from smiling as she curtsied, letting her head dip down to hide her expression. "I beg forgiveness. Yes, I kissed the prince, as a thank you for being rescued. What he felt I cannot say, but I look upon him most fondly. Unless, of course, the dwarrowdam doesn't think she can overcome a simple rival. Hmm?"

Fili sent a shocked look of betrayal and disbelief toward the Blacklock heiress as Risil had just declared herself to be open to the thought of courtship.

"What? Should I lie? Tell her that the kiss meant nothing? It meant something on my part." Risil told him in the still quiet as everyone watched and heard. "I was very impressed with your strength, your honor, your cunning, and your …warmth." Her voice alluded to more intimate things than what had actually been shared. "I would not mind exploring those feelings more fully. And as you know, a marriage between Longbeards and Blacklocks might be most advantageous. For both sides."

Erelinde blinked, her eyes feeling overly dry. Shouldn't she be crying? How odd that she felt …hmph, like stone.

"I told you where my heart lay." Fili reached out for Erelinde's hand, but the dam beside him moved her own hand fractionally back, away from his touch. The prince swung his head around immediately. "It is not how she is making it sound. I did not kiss her. This is a huge mistake!"

Erelinde stared at Risil as she lifted her chin.

Thorin, Dwalin, Dis, Glorfindel, Gloin, Dori, and everyone stared at Erelinde. She felt the weight of each set of eyes. The weight of their judgements. Some instinct deep inside her knew this was the moment that would define or break her, as a dam and as a potential queen for Erebor.

If she forgave Fili, all might work out awkward but well enough. But afterwards would she be seen as weak? By them? By Fili? Worse, would she see herself in that way?

If she railed at him, raking him over fires hotter than the forges of Erebor would that be seen as vindictive? Mean? While she had no desire to be a rug over which any could walk, she also did not want to play the role of harpy. Then there was the problem of the promise she'd just freshly delivered to Princess Dis. Not to interfere with Fili courting others.

The world seemed to narrow in on her, a ringing began in her ears and Erelinde feared she might pass out, so light-headed did she feel. Her mouth opened and cold, cold air filled her lungs. Oh. She'd been holding her breath. Odd. The bracing chill of winter revived her enough to slide her sky-blue eyes toward Fili's. He looked near to miserable. Good. He should. That may be small and petty, but it was the simple truth about how she felt. He should feel bad.

For some strange reason she turned her gaze away, seeking another. Dwalin. He was staring at her, his arms crossed over his chest, scowling, disappointed. Like always. Beside him was Princess Dis. Her expression was shock and anger. Finally Erelinde's eyes came to meet and catch the gaze of Risil herself. There was a challenge there, and a smugness. As if Erelinde posed no possible threat to her.

Risil Blacklock. She wasn't classically beautiful, but she was striking and exotic and from the smoldering heat she seemed to project Erelinde was certain that all of her knowledge and wiles didn't come from a book of elvish poetry. She felt silly and child-like in comparison.

"Erelinde?"

She turned to look back up into Fili's face. Her heart melted at the plea she saw reflected there. Was their guilt, or was she seeing something there that was only in her imagination? "Believe me." He asked her simply.

"I do." Her voice sounded reed thin to her own ears. She could hear people shifting their weight, trying to keep warm in the cold wind, but she could also feel the heaviness of judgement pressing down on her. "But that's not enough."

Everyone stilled once again, nearly straining to hear her softly spoken words.

Erelinde turned toward Risil Blacklock. So. The other dam thought she could be dismissed? Just like that? Erelinde was a Longbeard, one of Durin's Folk. She was not of noble blood, but she was the proud daughter of the Stormrune line, a name never broken nor disgraced. She was a crafter of fine goods and textiles that were much sought after and she was not without pride herself. Soon she would be a Master in her field. And no one was taking anything from her.

Where she found the words or the courage, she would never be able to say. She just spoke, letting the words form as they took shape in her mouth. "I have no rival. Not now, not ever. Certainly not you." She lifted her chin and turned to look at Thorin and Dis. "I know that Fili will have to meet and court others in order to choose wisely for Erebor. If that is the case, then do not look in my direction. If you only want a queen, then I will not be she. If Fili wants to court more than one, do not look to me to be among them. He is free and I hold him to no promise or obligation."

With that, and leaving utter shock in her wake, the dwarrowdam turned and walked away from all and one.

Fili would have taken off after her, but Gloin moved to block his path. "Let her go lad, speak with her later. Privately." He was smiling, though sadness still stained his every expression. "And I wouldn't kiss anymore maids, not even to allow them to thank you."

Thorin looked confused, scowling as he watched the normally shy dwarrowdam basically shred his nephew to the core of his being. Not that he could blame her. "Damned fool." He threw the words at Fili.

Risil smiled in victory.

Fili threw her a nasty look and moved around Gloin, heading inside, to find his heart.

Dwalin laughed out loud as he moved to stand closer to Risil, Dis following along. "Lass, I don't know what you're smiling about. You hear the sound? You know what that sound is?" He cupped his hand to his ear as if listening intently.

Risil shrugged at the warrior with distaste.

"The crown, slipping from your grasp. That sound is your defeat."

She licked her lips and shook her head at him. "You don't know me, and I can forgive you the misjudgment. Once. She just gave him up, he's free. And I am a prize worth winning. You know nothing of courtship and dams."

"Lass. I may not know courtship and dams, but I do know battle strategy. I know winning and losing." Dwalin grinned smugly. "And you were just flanked, soundly. You are bleeding to death before you finished taking your first step onto the battlefield. She won. You lost."

Dori stepped up next to him, shaking his head. "Poor lad. It really wasn't all that much, the lass here was chasing him but I know that Fili's heart was back here."

"Poor lad, my ass." Thorin growled, moving closer too. "He brought it upon himself. Fili is going to have to work hard to get her back. I will not have this piece of tripe marrying my sister-son!"

Risil hissed at the king in reaction, her dark eyes flashing ominously. Still, she wasn't cowed in the face of his temper, standing up straight and proud. Dwalin could almost admire that, if he didn't dislike her so.

Dis sighed and rolled her eyes, sharing an amused glance with Dori. "Well." She said. "That's that. I'll have to start monogramming her initials entwined with his."

Dwalin smirked. "It'll be at least a year before the wedding." He predicted.

Dis nodded, shaking her head. "We'll have to come up with a strategy to appease the other noble families that have daughters. Dori? We're going to need to get the weavers working as soon as possible."

"Defenses first. Wedding second." Dwalin shook his head in denial, disagreeing with the princess.

Thorin scowled, looking back and forth between his sister and his cousin. "What are you two blathering about? She just left Fili cold. You could end up with THAT as a queen." He gestured rudely over toward Risil, who lifted her lips in a near snarl.

Dwalin nearly smiled at the display. He wished he could teach that gumption to Erelinde, though truth be told, she'd handled herself reasonably well today.

Thorin sighed. "I probably need to yank both of them into my office and talk sense to them."

Dis coughed and sputtered, shaking her head. "You are the last person who needs to be doing that."

Gloin moaned, shaking his head too. "You don't want to know what Balin said about the talk he had with Kili about marriage. Thorin you need to keep out of this business."

"Fili could lose her!" Thorin roared at them, furious they didn't seem to feel the urgency of the situation.

"She just effectively became engaged to him!" Dis roared back.

"Did you all listen to her talk at all? She set him free!" Thorin growled, so frustrated he raked a hand through his long hair.

Dis turned to Dwalin slapping her hands against her side. "Fix it. Keep him too busy to interfere. Let those two work it out on their own. Now. I need to find out what kind of celebration feast we can hold with limited supplies."

Thorin groaned, rolling his eyes after his sister's back. "Dwalin. Get Erelinde, then Fili …bring them to my office immediately!"

Dwalin blinked at his king, frowning. He turned deliberately toward Dori. "Thorin wrote to all the guild masters informing them that the guild tithes would be reinstated with Erebor now ours again. At three times the previous rates." He turned and offered his arm to Dis. "Come, let me get you some hot tea."

Thorin roared in shock just as Dori turned bright red in the face, rounding on his king with righteous indignity.

Dis drew to a stop as they neared Risil. She turned to Dwalin. "Cousin? Is this the dwarrowdam that I have heard tried to slip poison into my brother's drink?"

"It wasn't poison." Risil snapped, feeling off balance. She'd been so sure of herself. Why were people looking at her with pity? She'd won? Hadn't she?

"Oh. So you admit adding something to his drink then. Just not poison. Interesting. Now you want my son?" Dis smiled with dark threat as she leaned in closer. "For one or both, I would see your bloodied head at my feet before you ever wore a crown."

Dwalin grinned happily beside the princess as Risil's face paled. "Oh Dis. I think I actually missed you."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Glorfindel sat before the fire, pretending to ignore the rabidly curious looks from the newly arrived dwarrow family. The Blacklock warriors had either been escorted to the healing halls or were speaking with Ker and Bifur about accommodations.

The Humans were looking around with a mixture of awe and relief, settling about the fires and finding something to eat and drink. Relaxing for the first time since the initial arrival of the Blacklock dwarves fresh from battle and seeking refuge themselves.

Sil and his wife sat amusingly close and were watching his every move as he held their child. Actually he was rather surprised they hadn't demanded the infant's return.

As for the child. Glorfindel looked down at the tiny hand he'd freed from the sodden blanket that he'd tossed aside. He marveled at the smallness and the perfection of the tiny fist waving about. A clean and dry blanket appeared to his left. He looked up, finding Bofur beaming at him.

"Who have you there?" The hatted dwarf asked, stepping over the low bench to take a seat as the elf wrapped the fresh blanket around the tiny dwarfling.

"Not sure, actually." Glorfindel smiled as the infant grabbed a handful of his long, golden hair. He laughed. "That is what the Balrog did as well! Good battle planning there."

Sil shifted uncomfortably, not understanding the references. He shared an uneasy look with his wife. Beside him Desil moped, still rubbing away tears from getting in trouble when, to his mind, he'd done nothing wrong. "That's Sila." He ducked as his mother swiped at his head. "WHAT?"

"Don't talk back to your mam." Sil responded, not even bothering to look. "And don't you raise your voice."

"At a guess, lad." Glorfindel told the young child. "I would think that as an outsider and an elf it isn't the practice to be giving away family names."

"But you asked!" The child protested, obviously still upset.

"No filters." Bofur chuckled indulgently.

"You have no idea." Glorfindel responded slyly. "Told everyone outside that Fili had been seen kissing Risil Blacklock."

Bofur froze. "No." He winced heavily. "Erelinde?"

Glorfindel just nodded and Bofur hissed as he winced again, shaking his head despondently. "You'll have to ask Dwalin what transpired next. I needed to get this wee one inside to the warmth."

"You left?" Bofur's voice hitched higher with disbelief.

"Dwarfling." Glorfindel pointed out the obvious. "Freezing. And I had no desire to see any more bloodshed." He told them, not speaking of the pinch of memory seeing greed and longing fighting to interfere with love. Risil wasn't Maeglin, not by a long-shot. But the memories had risen out of the depths to bite at his soul. So he'd walked inside instead. Whatever transpired, he'd hear of it later. And he'd keep a very watchful eye on the Blacklock dam to be sure.

"Oh by the Axe and Blood." Muttered Bofur mournfully, looking around but not spotting anyone who would be in the know.

"Are all dwarflings this charming?" The elf asked, making a face at the baby, who giggled happily. "Hello Sila. I am hoping that I am right in guessing that is a feminine name, as you are far too beautiful for a dwarrow."

Sil relaxed fractionally, though his wife still appeared to be sitting on pins and needles. He gave a tiny nod to show the elf's guess was quite correct.

"Are you ever going to give the child back?" Bofur asked with a chuckle, amused to see the mighty warrior so smitten.

"Sila's mother is still wearing wet and cold clothing, not even having taken off the outer layer. She has yet to eat or drink or even relax." Glorfindel explained, never taking his eyes off of little Sila. "And no one has asked for the child's return."

Sil shifted his weight, but seemed to be pondering the moment. He turned and grunted at his wife with a nod of his head. The dam looked reluctant, but began to get out of her frozen travel gear.

Bofur nodded thoughtfully. "Haven't had dwarflings around, so you'd not be knowing. But it would be considered a rudeness to ask for the baby back, it would be calling into question your honor as a guest."

"Explains much. Though to be quite technical, it was Erelinde who handed me little Sila here." Glofindel nodded, which lost the baby her hold on his hair. He fixed that by handing it back to her. The baby gurgled happily, going so far as to bring the ends to her mouth and begin to gnaw away. "Well now, can't say the Balrog did that especially."

"What's a Balrog?" Desil asked curiously.

"Evil creature of fire and flame. Killed me it did." The ancient hero smiled, knowing how the words sounded. He lived for the moment when he could do this. Small bit of hubris, to be sure. "They buried me and everything."

Bofur watched the shock bloom across dwarrow faces and started laughing so hard he near fell off his bench. "You do that apurpose!" He accused.

Glorfindel denied nothing, he just made another face at the dwarfling.

Desil watched in awe, never questioning how someone who'd died could be here now, holding his baby sister. "How'd you get away?"

"I didn't. I was re-embodied and sent back by the Valar to fight against the Great Darkness."

Desil listened, but still not quite sure of what was going on.

"He is a great warrior." Bofur nodded at the lad, smiling in a reassuring manner. "And he's on our side."

"Prince Fili is the best warrior ever!" Desil announced with all the dignity in his little body. "He swooped down on those orcs and goblins and slew them all! I saw it!"

"Well now, that be grand and all. But Glorfindel here has slain a dragon and a Balrog. What do you think of that?" Bofur teased.

Desil scrunched up his face and shook his head defiantly. "Fili's the better warrior!"

"Oh?" Glorfindel finally looked up from the infant. "Do tell?"

"Well." Desil shrugged artlessly. "Fili didn't die. And he has a beard and braids in his mustache!"

Bofur and Glorfindel both shot each other a long look. The hatted dwarf gave a decisive nod. "I can't argue with that."

The High Elf simply sighed, not bothering to be affronted with little Sila smiling so prettily at him.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Are you alright?"

Kili moaned, dropping his head back as he stared at the stone ceiling. Fire light dancing over the excellent craftsmanship. Though, it wasn't dwarven. There were no elegant carvings and mithril inlays. It made him home sick for Erebor. Which was strange, as he'd not actually lived there very long. Perhaps a few months.

"Kuilaith?"

The brunet groaned, sitting back up as he stared in disbelief at his father. "I don't understand how you could have ever gotten married to mam. Or how you, or Galadriel, or your own da, or Arwen could find me in their hearts."

"At one time Elu Thingol and the Dwarves got along quite well." Elladan said with sympathy. "It is through no fault of yours, or mine, that they came to ill ends."

Kili put his hands on his chest, splaying the fingers out wide. "All of my ancestors at one time or another hated each other."

"There was love too."

Kili shook his head, his eyes wide. "Not just the dwarves against the elves, there is the Teleri and Noldor. I have BOTH bloods in me."

"And both sides eventually learned to love again." Elladan glossed over more than a millennia's worth of wrath and intolerance. "Learning history is but a small thing really. It is applying the lessons learned from the mistakes of others that is important."

"I ..I need a walk." Kili rolled to his feet, pacing the room for a moment. He looked over at his father. "It's just …the Kinsaying, the curse of Mandos, Feanor, Eol, now Thingol and Doriath. It's still not all, is it?"

Elladan wanted so much to say that it was. His sympathy shone out of his light-gray eyes. It was the only answer needed.

Kili nodded. "Well. I have an expanded number of years. So. Let's wait on some of it, yes? Take advantage of living longer."

"I can come with you if you want." Elladan offered, but wasn't surprised by the quick shake of his son's head. Whatever feelings may have been hurt were alleviated as Kili seemed more worried than rejecting.

"You've been up for several hours, even walked outside today." The young prince pointed out. "You look drawn and pale and need to rest, I've overstayed."

"Never."

Kili fairly pushed his father into resting, settling a blanket across him in the chair when Elladan refused to lie down on the bed. He accepted the glass of water, and refused the fruit and cheese plate. Laughed when Kuilaith mispronounced the Sindarin word for cheese and smiled when his son looked at him with worry and concern.

Kili stoked the fire, the glow of the flames backlighting his hair and silhouette. Elladan sighed, pleased to have come so far with this unexpected child. "Kuilaith?"

"Hm?"

"I'm proud of you."

Kili turned, dark eyes blinking. "For what?"

"For who you are."

More blinking. "A reckless youth who runs around kissing a she-elf behind your back at every given chance?"

Elladan sighed and lifted his eyes as if asking the stars for patience. "Perhaps that. But because you feel the injustices on both sides of the racial divide. Because you sorrow for the Teleri, sympathize with Eol, weep for Doriath and the Dwarves both and are angry for all the right reasons."

"Oh." Kili looked down at the toes of his boots, unsure how to respond. Finally he gave a small chuckle. "Well, I'm proud …and bewildered …to be your son."

"Oh?"

"You rode to free your mother, risking all for one you love deeply. You rode across Arda to face a dragon just at the idea of a son. You chose to stay in Erebor where you weren't wanted or accepted. You have patience with me when I can't do everything an elfling should."

Elladan nodded. "I wasn't alone, I have my brother."

"Me too." Kili said cheekily, then froze. He bit his lip.

"You don't have to hide it, I know you miss Fili." Elladan sat back, watching his son. "Tell me about him."

A huff of a laugh. "You've met Fili."

"Tell me of him." Elladan pulled the blanket up higher, settling into his chair. "Tell me a story." He shamelessly pandered to the Dwarven sensibilities and heritage. "You've been learning, now it's my turn."

All thoughts of a walk disappeared. Kili's mood lifted a bit and he smiled. "There was this one time. Fili went off with Thorin. I was so mad, being deemed too young. They hired on guarding a Human caravan. Great trading expedition."

As Kuilaith spoke his voice eased. The tightness ebbed away slowly and his face became more animated. Elladan nodded as he listened avidly. Yes. This was right.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili should have caught up with her. But people kept getting in his way. Somehow she'd slipped out of sight and away before he could catch up with Erelinde.

Free. She'd let him go. Without promise, without a bead. Why? Because of Risil? Stupid, stupid, stupid. She'd said she believed him? But obviously not. Not if she was cutting him loose like this. Court Risil? NONSENSE!

It couldn't have been any clearer for him. He didn't want a dam who'd make a great queen but would have to learn to love him. He wanted a dam who loved him beyond all else, and had to learn to be a great queen. He wanted Erelinde. Damn. "I love her." His teeth clenched tight as he ran to her rooms.

He didn't bother knocking, rude as that might be. Didn't matter. It wasn't until he saw the complete disrepair of the room and the dust everywhere that he remembered she wasn't staying here anymore. She was sharing a different room with the other dwarrowdams. "By Nain's Hairy Fecking Arse!" He scraped his knuckles pretty badly as he slammed his fist into the stone wall.

Without another word he charged down the hallway toward the new room. Dwarrow parted before him, cowed by the thunderous expression on his face and possibly the dripping blood from the scrapes on his knuckles. Whispers followed him and he ignored it all. Until he got to the door of her room. Here he stopped, trying to grab hold of his temper.

He knocked this time, aware of being watched. Seeing the drops of blood left behind he frowned. Fili glanced at his hand, for the first time becoming aware that he'd done himself any damage. Without fanfare he wiped his knuckles against his leather tunic and left it at that.

Sealyn opened the door, her eyes widening in surprise. "Prince Fili?"

"Erelinde?" It was a gravelly growl.

If surprised, Sealyn didn't show it much. "We heard you'd arrived. I would have assumed she would have been out front to meet you, actually. I was on duty, myself. But am glad that you're ….Prince Fili?" She called out, stunned as he turned away from her mid-sentence and stalked away.

Where? Where? Fili stopped cold. He grabbed the reins of his temper and nodded. Fool. He was a fool. She'd gone to his room. So they could speak quietly, in private. Of course.

He turned, no longer rushing but still walking rather quickly. Fili took a deep breath. Of course she was waiting for him. She'd tell him she hadn't meant it, that she was just hurt. That was it. Her feelings had to have been bruised. Drat that Risil. It was all her fault. No. No. It was partly him too. He hadn't exactly shoved her away. He'd felt sorry for her. Yes. Missing her brother and worried about him. Alone, attacked, separated from family. He'd offered safety and comfort. That was all.

Fili burst through the door of his room, spinning twice before realizing, it was completely empty. Completely. He stopped, staring at the chests that had held his brother's things. He and Kili had shared space after all the cave-ins. Now Kili was gone. And Erelinde wasn't here.

Slowly he turned and saw his clothing. Freshly laundered, folded, waiting for them. They'd fallen over from the neat piles they'd obviously started out in, but they were there. He thought he knew who'd gone through and washed, tended, and mended them. And she wasn't here!

Where? Where would his ….crafting room.

One blink and then he was out the door. No. He stopped, turned and grabbed his father's fiddle and bow. He'd need these.

Fili hurried through the hallways, stopping to speak with no one despite his name being called numerous times.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dwalin noticed something was different before he'd even opened the door to his room. He pushed the unlatched door open, then quirked up an eyebrow as he looked inside. "Rude."

"The door was open." Erelinde said, her voice rather small.

"Liar."

Miserable sky-blue eyes blinked over at him. "You assured me that all leaders lie or at least bend the truth to their needs. Weren't you trying to make me into a queen?"

Dwalin grinned suddenly. "You did a great job of that today."

Erelinde's hands went to her face, scrubbing vigorously.

"So. Your courage give out?" Dwalin leaned against his doorway. "Won the battle and are afraid to claim your victory? Your crown?"

"Fili is not same trophy!" Spat the suddenly infuriated blonde.

"And that's why you won." Dwalin casually eased the pressure off of his left foot. It ached still, though not as badly as it had been. He was finally starting to really heal. And he still had all his original toes.

"What is this, a party? And me without an invitation or a gift." Glorfindel's voice caused Dwalin to roll his eyes even as the elf came to the doorway. "Aw. Beauty has invaded. Do you have another dwarfling to thrust at me without warning?"

Dwalin coughed to mask a quick grin. The look of shock on Glorfindel's face had been perfect. "Another brilliant move. By a queen."

"What if it hadn't worked?" Erelinde shook out her hands, pacing a bit as she turned on the duo who still hadn't entered the room with her. "I didn't think it through."

"I caught the child."

"No! Giving that Blacklock a clear chance at getting to Fili!"

"Oh that." Glorfindel nodded. "I missed that part."

"Why did you leave?" Dwalin asked, ignoring the flighty and nearly hyperventilating dam in his room.

"No special reason. It was cold." The elf replied in the blandest voice possible. Dwalin was instantly suspicious. He'd dig more on that later. "Fine. Erelinde? Why are you here?"

"I need a dagger."

Two male warriors of vastly different races and cultures blinked simultaneously. At the same time both blew out a breath, and then narrowed their eyes. But when they spoke it was two different responses.

"What?"

"Why?"

Erelinde looked at both of them as if they were crazy not to understand already. "Dis made me promise not to fight other dams for Fili. That he'd have to look around and choose wisely. That she'd support me if that was his choice, but that I had to allow it."

"You want to attack …Dis?" Glorfindel was sure that didn't sound right, but he had to ask.

"No! I just can't keep that promise."

Dwalin nodded. "You need a blade, for what?"

"To pry that ….person off of Fili!"

Glorfindel and Dwalin turned to look at each other, and then back at the pretty crafter in her sensible gown and boots and soft hands. They both winced. Risil would take her down in three seconds, easy.

"There are other, better, ways to fight another lady. Dam." Glorfindel corrected his grammar.

"She doesn't have him. I'm trying to tell you, you've already won." Dwalin sighed heavily.

"She doesn't know that! She will though!" Erelinde said, fire in her eyes.

Glorfindel bit his lip and looked at the ceiling. Oh, by the stars above, she was adorable. Clueless. But adorable. Still, he had no doubt she was up to the task ahead. He liked the spine she'd shown today, and the move with the dwarfling had been brilliant, even if it had been mere instinct. "There are other weapons."

"Like what?" The dwarrowdam demanded.

"Like what you read about in books." Came the pointed response from the tall elf. He grinned as she immediately flamed bright red. "Ah, I see you read it."

"What? The history books?"

Glorfindel grinned easily and laughed darkly. "Wear a more revealing dress."

"What?" Dwalin scowled. "Elf, you are no help."

"In this, I can help shape a queen." The ancient warrior avowed, placing his hand over his heart. "I have lived many, many more years than either of you. I have seen and met the living sources of most of the major love sagas of the elves. Wear a more sensual dress. Tease him. You gained his attention. You've brought him to the edge, now push him over."

Erelinde shook her head madly. "This is my best dress."

"It's serviceable." Dwalin remarked, looking skeptical. He grunted and sighed. "Elf might be right. Could be better cut. Lower."

"Clinging." Glorfindel waved his hands in a generalized feminine shape. "You have a great figure. Don't hide yourself."

"Risil has a figure too." Dwalin closed one eye, peering over at Erelinde.

"Didn't notice." Glorfindel turned his look onto his friend. "What made you look?"

Dwalin's eyes widened and he sputtered angrily. "I got eyes!"

"Yes. You've got eyes. What we don't have is a dress!" Erelinde said a bit sharply. "This is the best I've got. And my friends don't have anything much better."

"Can't dress her up if we don't have the right items." Dwalin sighed. "Now what?"

"You give up too easily." Glorfindel said with a definite gleam in his eye. "Do you really think a pretty dress is the only option?"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili startled when the log on the fire split and fell apart. He glanced quickly over toward his father, but Elladan was deeply asleep.

He felt the presence next to him without even looking. Kili turned his head and smiled, somehow sensing it was she.

Tauriel smiled at him as she drew the needle through the fine linin cloth. Kili eyed the rusty brown color and rather short sleeve. "Balin's?" He whispered, to keep from awaking his da.

Tauriel nodded. "I offered my assistance. Dwalin's clothing does not even come close to fitting, properly or otherwise."

Kili chuckled, keeping his voice down. "Aye." He peered over at his father, tracing the lines of his profile as he slept. Slowly he stretched and yawned, feeling well rested and in a much better frame of mind. He could even put up with Thranduil at dinner. He hoped.

Tauriel sent him a side-ways glance from her green eyes.

Low in his body something tightened, pressed. Kili mentally moved to block the sensation before it turned into a painful itch. He was getting better at this. Still, he wished he didn't have to do it at all. Why couldn't his body just go ahead and 'wake up'?

And it wasn't all bad. Sometimes, before the pain set in, it was a pleasant feeling. Heated. Sweet. Drugging. He let his mind wander as he smiled at his red-haired love. Slowly he let some of his inner walls thin out, letting some of the nicer feelings back through.

It worked. But then his body started to itch again, burn too much. Kili bore down with his mind, rebuilding the walls, but only so much. Oh. Better. He grinned, winking at a surprised Tauriel.

"What?" She asked, keeping her own voice down.

"Later." He promised. He'd tell her later. It would only serve to embarrass her, and Kili didn't want to speak of such private things aloud around his father. Even if the elf was asleep.

Only. Aloud wasn't the only way to communicate.

Kili grinned wickedly. Her eyes questioned. In his mind's eye, Kili built an image of Tauriel, dressed all in …oh, green. Yes. But in a silk, the finest silk. Jewels winked in her hair, at her throat, and on her wrist. Her arms were bare, as she was only in a shift. The silk molding to her like a second skin. Kili put himself into the image, wearing his finest trousers and a shirt with …no, no shirt. He laughed darkly. In his head he pictured taking her hand and lifting it to his lips.

In his imagination he could feel the heated smoothness of her skin, smell her fragrance, taste her …his lips travelled from her hand to the bend of her elbow.

Tauriel's breath caught in a gasp, her cheeks flaming red.

Kili blinked at her and then sat up as if struck by lightning. "You got that?"

"I don't know if she did, but I did. Are you trying to kill me off?"

Elladan's voice was as effective as glacier water dumped over his head.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The music gave him away.

Erelinde paused at the door of her crafting room, having nearly crawled through rubble to get here. The way was only partially cleaned out and cleared. She knew it had been deemed safe, but it wasn't high on the priority of repairs. She knew this because she'd been using it for storage for a few days now.

When she walked into the room her eyes widened. Two empty bottles were at Fili's feet while he sat with his back to her, playing his father's fiddle. Funny. Two bottles of whiskey, but he didn't seem to miss a note.

The music was sad. A dirge really. Like the sound of wind over a lonely lake. The sound of abandonment.

Her boot scuffed the floor and the bow paused in mid note. "Are you here or am I that drunk?"

"I was saving that to make a dessert for your return."

Fili rolled to his feet, turning. He opened his mouth to say something really, really angry and hurtful. He didn't get the chance. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head though.

It wasn't the fact that she was wearing male clothing. Dwarrowdams did that normally. It was that Erelinde was wearing HIS shirt. The blue silk one that Arwen had basically stolen for him from her grandsire's closet. It was too large for her. The sleeves were rolled way up, and he was much broader through the chest, but she filled it out way better to his way of thinking.

The leather pants weren't hers either. If she'd worn something that tight before he would have noticed. The vest ….Fili's eyes narrowed. "That's Ori's."

Erelinde nodded.

"Why are you wearing Ori's pants?" His tongue felt numb and fuzzy, too big for his mouth. How had that happened?

The blonde blinked at him. She didn't want to explain that she was wearing his clothes because some tall elf had told her to do so. That it was a way of claiming Fili as her own. It all felt so silly right now. Except for the heated look in those sapphire eyes.

"I didn't kiss her."

Erelinde didn't know what to say. Her brain wasn't working right. The terror of the thought of losing him had wiped everything away. All her plans, all her carefully thought out words. Gone.

"Erelinde?"

She crossed the space between them in three steps. Fili didn't have a chance to react before her hands were pulling his head down so that her lips could take his.

He melted immediately, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"Don't drop the fiddle." She murmured. It gave him an opening and he opened his mouth against hers, tangling his tongue inside and pulling moans from both of them.

Air became a problem and she pulled back. He buried his head in the crook of her neck. "I'm so mad at you."

She groaned. "Why?"

"You walked away from me. Telling me that I can't court you?"

"No!" Erelinde really did pull back, as much as he'd let her with his arms still around her waist. She stared up into his eyes. "I only meant that if you want to court others you're free to do so, but if you court me then I will be the only one. I can't …I just can't watch you court Risil or any other dam and be one of many. I'm sorry."

Fili searched her face, her expression, her eyes. He groaned and closed his own. "I'm an idiot."

"No."

"I thought you were rejecting me."

"I love you."

The words dropped between them like something explosive. Suddenly Fili grinned widely. "That's good, because I'm in love with you too. Sweetheart, there is no one else for me."

"But you have to be sure. Meet with the other dams. I know you do."

Fili grinned like a loon while he shook his head. "I'll meet them. Fine. Be nice to them even, but I'm courting you. If you'll have me."

Erelinde smiled, dropping her gaze to his mouth. His wonderful mouth. "Don't you see what I'm wearing?"

"I love what you're wearing." He avowed, leaning in and nipping at the skin the silk exposed at her neck.

Her breath caught and she shivered. "I meant my hair."

"Hair?" Sapphire eyes rose to the nashatal braids. Oh. She hadn't removed them. He laughed and finally let her go. It wasn't until he reached for his own braids that he realized he still had a hold of his father's fiddle. He put it away quickly and then reached for his braids.

Her hands stopped him and he mock growled, nipping at her fingers until she drew them back.

"It has to be in public." She reminded him with a chuckle.

Oh. Right. Fili nodded. He knew that. "I want two beads."

"Two?" Sky-blue eyes blinked at him.

"Two." He said with finality. "Because I will court no one else and it could lead to untold number of deaths if I had to fight off every dwarrow that will try and get one of your beads."

Erelinde groaned, she'd already had to turn down several offers and she'd only been wearing the beads for a few hours. Still. "I can handle myself."

"Did it upset you to hear that Risil kissed me?"

Erelinde shot him a hurt look. Fili shook his head. "I can't handle it as well as you did. I'd hurt someone trying to steal one of your kisses."

"I went to Dwalin to ask him for a dagger." She admitted.

His eyes widened as he goggled at her. Then he started laughing.

She smiled, until he kept laughing. Then she started to look cross. "I can use a dagger." When he started laughing more, she pressed her lips together angrily. "Stop." But when she would have moved away, Fili caught her around the waist and spun them both until they landed in the chair, he on the bottom and she in his lap.

"What are you …." The question was lost forever as his lips reclaimed hers. And with his hands suddenly free of the fiddle, they began to run up and down her spine, urging her closer.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elrohir and Balin looked puzzled. Thranduil seemed to notice nothing out of the ordinary. Only that none of his clever lines seemed to get a rise out of Kili.

Kili and Tauriel were quiet. Too quiet. Elladan had joined them tonight though, sitting right between the pair.

"Anything new today?" Elrohir finally asked, somehow at a loss.

Elladan smiled grimly. "Kuilaith managed to mind-speak a bit today. Though he can't quite get a handle on how to keep it to only one person. Anything he sends goes to anyone in his sight, as long as they are close enough."

Thranduil lifted one eyebrow. "Oh? Nursery lessons then?"

Not even that got a rise out of Kili, who kept his eyes on his plate.

Thranduil nearly sulked all night.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	69. In which there are beads

"You taste like whiskey." Erelinde mumbled, though not really complaining much. Against her lips, his curved momentarily before he nipped at her playfully. She gave a huffing sort-of laugh, half-sigh and let him catch her in another drugging kiss.

"You taste like beautiful." He said when finally taking a quick breath, his rough voice doing shaky thinks to her nerves, which felt like melting.

Her hands, already framing either side of his face, trembled as she leaned in closer once more. Whether he kissed her or the other way around, was a moot point. Erelinde did shift herself closer to him while seated in his lap as his hands stroked her back, culling shivers from her over-heated skin. The silk shirt of Fili's that she was wearing was no protection from his touch. The fabric was too thin, too soft, too gliding, and …falling open at the neckline as his hands on the shirt at her back were tightening the fit across her front.

Fili watched her sit back slightly, her hands move to cover the now-straining buttons with some disappointment. "Aw."

She tugged. He didn't let go. Sky-blue eyes narrowed on him. His grin only grew.

"Let go." She whispered.

"It's my shirt." Fili whispered back in kind, his gaze darkened from sapphire to near midnight-blue. He tugged.

The silk slid across her skin, causing more goose-bumps of pleasure and a shaky, breathless sort of longing fear mixed with anticipation. Her whole body felt tingly as she shook her head at him, reluctantly sliding one leg off of his lap.

He moaned and dropped his head back as she untangled herself from his reluctant hands, standing.

She laughed, a raspy hoarse sort of sound hinting at her own internal yearnings held in check by sheer will-power. "I keep the shirt. You get two beads."

Fili's head snapped up, only to start blinking rapidly and swallow hard as he took a deep breath.

Erelinde chuckled, rearranging and tucking her new shirt into the borrowed pants more snuggly. "You drank too much whiskey."

"It's only too much if you're not really here." Fili protested lightly. Mixed with the sound of their increased breathing, there was a hollow kind of rumbling gurgle.

Erelinde stilled and looked at the dwarrow she'd just admitted that she loved. "When did you last eat?" She watched as he yawned large enough to make his jaw pop and creak. "Sleep?"

Fili shrugged and didn't answer, looking rather owlishly at her. "We were pushing to get here." His mood dipped down a bit.

Answer enough, she supposed. "You need food. Water. Rest."

"You."

Erelinde ignored the pleased tremors his words seemed to set off in her nerves, trying not to smile outrageously. "A bath." She wrinkled her nose.

"I do feel rather light headed, almost dizzy." Fili admitted, suddenly looking solemn, collapsing back into his chair in a posed position.

Instant alarm. Erelinde stared at him with worry as she put her hand on his forehead.

Quicker than a snake strike Fili had grabbed her wrist and tugged her back into his lap. He grinned as he stole a kiss from the protesting bundle of dwarrowdam in his arms. "Foul!" She exclaimed.

"No, no …It's true. My head is definitely too light. It needs beads, and fast. My balance is off without them. I'll fall over. Sad."

She sputtered and then gave into laughter as he ran clever fingers around her ribcage, digging in just enough to make her squirm as he tickled her.

"Stop! Stop!" Erelinde yelped and struggled, though not very hard, to get free. When Fili did give her a break, they were left staring into each other's gazes, breathing hard, barely any space between their noses. From here she drew back very slightly. He didn't look good. Tired, pale, his face lined, and despite his teasing there was something dark lurking beneath his mood. "Fili?"

"Kiss me." The blond cajoled. "We've already passed your three kiss limit, I think we can dispense with that now. I want your beads, I want your kisses, I don't want to see or hear from anyone else for days and days …."

"Fili?" Erelinde's hand moved as she placed one finger against his lips, stilling his words. "What happened?"

The prince shrugged, suggestively running a hand down the length of her back. Erelinde reached behind her and nudged his arm away, and when he instead moved to touch her again she intercepted his hand and brought it up to her face. She kept her sky blue eyes on him as she spread his palm and tucked her cheek into his touch, holding his hand against the side of her face.

He sighed, relaxing a bit as he nodded at her.

"What happened?"

Fili shook his head and gave a half-hearted shrug that he made sure did not dislodge his hand from where he was touching her face. "You heard what little Desil said. Not that it's like he was saying." He carefully did not bring up Risil's actual name.

Erelinde immediately shook her head, taking his hand between both of her own as she watched his expression closely. "You haven't eaten or slept. Before what the child said, you were already troubled."

"It was a near thing." Fili told her, his voice suddenly gone neutral. "Orcs. Goblins. We got lucky. Found a great ambush spot, were able to take them out with more ease than I thought. Saved us much." He paused then shook his head. "Lost a few."

Erelinde studied him without saying a word, as if sensing something deeper under the surface. "You saved all the ones you could."

Something shuttered immediately and Fili blinked, looking away. Her hands tightened on his. "I'm sure there was nothing more you could have done."

Fili groaned. "Can't we go back to talking about the Blacklock dam?" He said deliberately.

One elegantly arched eyebrow rose delicately as she stared at him. She knew a dodge when she heard one. Fili went limp beneath her. "I am weak from thirst and hunger and sleep."

Knowing there was more, Erelinde nodded slowly. "Let's go downstairs. You can get some food in you, and we can exchange beads."

A bit surprised, as he was more used to his mother, Fili blinked three times very quickly. He gave her a suspicious look. "You're going to let me get away without telling you what is bothering me?"

Erelinde smiled at him, leaning close as she brushed her lips over his. She kept his hand as she stood and headed toward the door, with him following. "You'll tell me when you're ready, or not."

Fili watched as she turned and led him toward the blocked hallway, having to let him go to navigate through the rubble with him following. Dis would NEVER have let him have any peace to think on matters. Same with Thorin. They both would have badgered him until digging to the bottom of the matter. Even Kili, as much as he loved and sorely missed his brother, would have worried and dug until Fili gave in. It was rather refreshing to be allowed to think something through on his own. It certainly wasn't as if Erelinde didn't know that there was something on his mind, but she was willing to give him peace and space and let him move at his own pace.

"They wouldn't listen to me."

Erelinde turned, looking back over her shoulder at him as they gained the top of what had been the stairs leading back to the crafting areas. "Who?"

"The Humans. The Blacklocks took refuge in a settlement?" She nodded, having known that much already. "I warned them another attack was imminent. Urged them to come with us."

"There were Humans with those you brought back to Erebor." Erelinde reminded him in a soft voice.

"A bare fraction. Some individuals." Fili shrugged and shook his head. "I'm not used to making speeches, convincing people. That's always been my uncle." He suddenly grinned, though he couldn't maintain the expression. "Kili too. He has that way about him."

Erelinde stared at him, hearing what he was saying, and what he wasn't. She was a Dwarf. She understood what it meant culturally to be standing in an older relative's shadow. Master to apprentice to initiate to untried dwarfling. Stepping closer, she met his gaze head-on with her own. "Did you bring all the Khazad?" At his rather jerky nod, she nodded back. "Then you were convincing. Humans aren't us. They don't always understand, nor do we fully understand them. That's not on you."

"The red was hungry." Fili said, though he couldn't, or wouldn't, fully describe to his shy beauty the horror of watching the orcs and goblins sweep over and destroy what had been a prosperous little village. He shook his head at her when he didn't elaborate. "No. I'm good. I'm well. We did what we could."

Erelinde nodded at him, feeling the moment slip by leaving him whole but saddened for those he could not save. She had no answer for that. This was not something that could be solved by unknotting string, or even cutting out a tangle. What would a queen do? She had no clue. Nothing in her past could or would have prepared her to be paid court by the Crown Prince of Erebor. She needed to stick with what she did know, though it was the simple, the basic.

"You need water. Food. We'll ask if you can soak in a bath at last." Erelinde felt inadequate as she spoke. "I want you to be kind to the dwarfling."

Fili looked startled. "Desil?"

"He's going to be upset." Erelinde nodded to herself. "You need to let him know he's forgiven."

"He's not." Fili said, watching her cautiously. He could still feel the horror of that moment outside, and yes, the hurt and anger.

"He is." She insisted with a small, tight smile. "And you need to make sure the Humans and Dwarves you did rescue are settled in well and tight. Welcome. They did heed your warnings." Erelinde nodded with more confidence. "Yes. They're your responsibility now."

"Thorin's king." Fili said, more to see how she'd react and what she'd say than out of a rejection of her words.

Blonde braids shifted as she shook her head. "They will respect the king, but they will always KNOW that you were the one that came for them. That you were the one to fight for them. They'll follow him, they'll love you."

Fili stared at her for a moment then shook his head. "That's not the way it really works you know."

"No." Erelinde's smile dimmed slightly around the edges. "I don't know how it all works. But I know that the people you rescued from certain death will never forget. Time changes things, they may get angry at you for something you do or say or make a ruling on. They may disagree or grumble over something in the future. But always, there will be that knowledge, that they only live because of you."

He stared. Her smile disappeared as he didn't respond at first. Was she making a muck out of it after all?

Fili reached out and yanked her close as he took her lips in a long, dominating kiss. She let him, wrapping her arms around his head and drawing him even closer.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili felt the weight of the gaze as the group sat, gathered in the large reception area, reclining on chairs and lounges. He didn't look. Ever since dinner, wherein his father had announced that Kili had made mental-speaking contact, there had come much speculation. Amusement. Doubt. And trials, attempts to reach him mind-to-mind.

Balin nudged his side less than covertly, and when Kili looked up to find a questioning look of concern. At least this one wasn't trying to knock on his mental walls. Walls that had snapped up higher and thicker than ever after Elladan had caught Kili's earlier message, though it'd not been aimed at him. Walls that may never come down again.

Balin flicked his eyes and chin subtly, indicating he wanted Kili to do something, look somewhere. Kili groaned internally, but turned as indicated. He found Laninil, the king's friend, looking back at him as if expecting an answer.

"He asked if you would play for us." Balin supplied the question. "On your fiddle, lad." He clarified, just in case the brunet hadn't been paying attention. Which he hadn't.

Oh. Kili looked around the group, giving a small shake of his head. "Not really in the mood." He paused, then added a, "thank you" for good measure. Elves were big on manners, he was learning.

"Worn out from speaking with your mind? Do you need something soothing for your head?" Thranduil's voice sounded less than solicitous and more sulky instead. Kili hadn't been rising to the monarch's bait all evening.

Laninil smiled in what might have been a supportive manner if Kili didn't distrust all the elves here, and their motives. He didn't count family, or Tauriel in that assessment though. "I remember when I first learned. I had a headache for at least a week if I recall aright. It is not an easy skill to master."

Thranduil closed his eyes, as if calling for patience. He wasn't looking for anyone to be actually complimentary.

Another elf chuckled. "My brother stuck with one-word answers to any and everything for over a year. Tried our father's patience terribly."

"Your father? I don't recall him having that commodity. We can ask him when he returns from guard duties." Thranduil yawned, the picture of lazy contentment unless you noted the sulky mood and tightness around the eyes.

The other elf did not respond, perhaps sensing too late that the king's mood was precarious this night.

Laninil, who was a close family friend and an older elf, dared to smile over at Thranduil. "I can recall whole night's worth of conversations with your own father. Very pleasant memories."

Thranduil stilled while everyone seemed to wait for his reaction. Finally he took a sip of his wine and said nothing.

"The first one resorting to speaking aloud had the worst duties." Laninil smiled gently.

The king blinked slowly with no overt expression, but the skin around his mouth and eyes eased slightly, a softening. Suddenly his eyes narrowed and cut over to the brunet prince who was morosely ignoring those around him. "Mind-speech is not a natural talent, but one learned through effort and exercise. I compliment you on the achievement."

The sons of Elrond both looked over at Kili, who had been ignoring Thranduil's barbs and jibes all evening. His simple words of praise though, were different. Kili's face went beet red.

Elrohir blinked, curious. Elladan gave a wry smile and ignored his own twin's mental question.

Thranduil's mood lifted immediately. "Ah. A thought sent inadvertently perhaps? I'll admit, such is not unheard of when learning a new skill."

Kili's shoulders hunched slightly and he kept his eyes averted.

Elrohir finally caught Elladan's eyes, his neutral expression masking his avid curiosity. The elvish father sent his brother the scene his son had projected earlier with amusement.

Elrohir blinked, opened his mouth, then stilled. Stiff. Upset in some manner. "Excuse me." He rose smoothly, offering his apologies most graciously as he exited the area quickly.

Elladan paused, having expected amusement and chagrin. Perhaps a bit of shock, but not this complete shutting down. With his brother out of line of sight he could not mentally ask what had upset Elrohir. He sent his twin a general mental 'prod' that leaned toward inquiry, though without words.

Elrohir did not respond.

Elladan went so far as to question if he himself was too tired to have sent his message properly. His brother rarely shut himself off so completely, and never since Bainnid's demise.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"There he is." Thorin scowled, catching sight of the familiar blond head as the prince entered the dining area. He started to rise, but stilled as he saw Fili had his arm around a certain pretty dwarrowdam.

The king wasn't the only one to notice either. Murmurs began, with some relieved smiles as Fili and Erelinde headed toward the main table. Gloin stood and bumped Dori with his hip in an unspoken demand to shift over. The dwarves made room for the returning couple without being asked.

Great notice was taken in the few moments it took to cross the room to take seats at the large dinner table. The dwarrowdam still had nashatal braids in her hair, and her arm was linked through Fili's. The prince was smiling and fairly relaxed looking and Erelinde did not appear angry.

All of this might not have been Iglishmek, the silent hand-gesture language of the Dwarves, but it spoke volumes nonetheless.

Thorin blinked, then scowled as he flicked a glance at his sister. Dis watched him back, nearly gloating. She might as well have said 'I told you so'. The king turned and sent his gaze out over the room until he spotted Risil Blacklock. The dam looked less than thrilled. Thorin felt a hand on his shoulder and he sent his eyes upwards without turning his head. Dwalin. The hand tightened before the warrior moved away to take care of matters without the king having to say even a word.

Without meaning to, the king watched Dwalin walk, taking note of the limp that looked marginally less heavy today than it had yesterday. Good.

"He heals." Dis said reassuringly. "You'll want to spread the Blacklock warriors around, so they're not anywhere gathered in large numbers though."

Thorin grunted. He'd already made that call, but couldn't help but argue. "They are hardly in a position of strength to force anything."

"Ah, you've already handled it." Irritating him, his sister guessed accurately. Ignoring Thorin, Dis smiled in welcome toward the young couple as they finally arrived. Her eyes narrowed on Fili's face, her son's eyes looked glassy. "Fili?"

The blond sat his dam down first and then slid onto the bench next to her. Too closely actually. Erelinde scooted fractionally to one side, only to have Fili put his arm around her to keep her in place. A pretty little blush tinted the dwarrowdam's features just slightly.

Dis hid her smile. Her son was drunk and being possessive. Hardly surprising after that scene earlier. She gauged the situation and turned, gesturing for food to be sent down to the newly arrived duo. She poured a large mug of spring water and moved it in front of her son.

"Other things first." Fili stared at Erelinde, reaching out and taking her hands in his. "Stormrune?"

Off to the side, but watching avidly, Fergard looked right ready to burst with a mixture of pride and worry. The mining engineer had been standing with friends, but at the prince's call he moved through the knot of dwarrow around him over to join the royal family. His friends and colleagues clapping him on the shoulder as he passed, offering support and congratulations.

Fergard stopped, standing next to his seated child and the dwarrow who was holding her hands. The room stilled so much so that it felt as if the entire mountain held its breath. All eating stopped. Every bit of attention focused solely upon the Crown Prince.

"Erelinde Stormrune, I seek an answer from you on this night. I would request the honor of your regard in allowing me to offer court to you. My eyes seek your face, my hands seek your touch, and my heart seeks your approval. Will you honor me by letting me wear your beads as you carry mine? Telling all that I walk with you?"

Erelinde's slight blush intensified as she nodded, looking nowhere but directly at him. She looked up at her father, who was staring back at her expectantly.

"Daughter?" He prodded when she didn't answer quickly enough.

Fili's hold increased as she nodded up at her sire, his beads shining in her braids opposite the nashatal tail. "Father? You will stand with me?"

Technically, she didn't have to ask as she was already wearing the sigils that marked him. Yet it had always been the two of them, together. Father and daughter, miner and crafter, who had taken care of one another. All his years of worry, all his pride, everything within him welled up as he wiped a tear aside and gave his assent. "Anywhere, anytime."

The moment felt pregnant with expectations as Erelinde turned to look deeply into Fili's eyes. Technically all of this ceremony wasn't strictly necessary, this was a representation of the old world. Which seemed appropriate now that they were back living under the Lonely Mountain. A word or two, an exchange of beads, that's all that was strictly required.

Yet every Dwarf watching felt the groundswell of sentiment, the feeling of coming home, the return of something lost and dear. Witnessing the return of tradition called to each and every Khazad, and even the outsiders seemed to feel the weight of the moment with awe.

"Will you don my honor?"

"Aye, I will. Walk with me, share with me your history so that I might learn of your name. I give you leave to offer courtship."

Fili's dimples were clearly evident as he grinned widely. Cheers went up all around them, echoing through the room.

More than a few cast eyes over at Risil Blacklock, as rumors had already run rampant through the mountain. But the dwarrowdam sat still, unmoving, a polite smile upon her lips. If the looks discomfited her, none of that showed.

Everyone waited, watching as Erelinde and Fili seemed to bask in each other's company. Still. It was taking a bit long. Fergard leaned in, whispering. "Are you going to offer him a bead, daughter?"

Dis smiled handsomely, having been watching bit more closely, noted the problem the dwarrowdam was having. "Fili. She needs her hands for this part."

Relieved laughter rolled over the watching crowd as the prince grinned, realizing that she couldn't move at the moment. Fili lifted his hold enough to raise her fingers to his mouth, pressing a more traditional first courtship kiss now, in contrast with what his brother had done with Tauriel.

Dis sighed with pretend offense. "The kiss comes after the bead exchange, not before."

More genial laughter and calls of support as Fili reluctantly allowed Erelinde use of her own hands again. She reached for the pertinent beads in her nashatal braids. Quickly one fell into her hands and everyone held their breath. A second bead joined the first as she presented them to Fili who already had his out and awaiting hers.

"Two beads!" The words raced through the room with great pleasure to some, and moans of disappointment to others. Money changed hands, clinking and clattering as bets were paid off based on the number of beads given and received.

Beside Risil one of the Blacklock warriors looked up. He moved over reluctantly as Dwalin forced his way next to the heiress. The bald warrior looked at her sparse plate. "Long and difficult journey. You should eat."

"No appetite." Risil snipped out the words shortly.

"Two beads." Dwalin grunted with satisfaction, rudely taking a bit of cheese off of her plate and eating it without fanfare.

"I have eyes to see." The Blacklock dam told him without even looking in his direction. "Gloating?"

Dwalin watched the striking dwarrowdam, shrugging. "Warning."

Risil turned on him, her eyes flashing with temper that did not show in her outward expression. "You're not warrior enough to warn me off." Her chin lifted. "They're not wedded yet. The mid-stem space is hers. For the moment."

Dwalin grunted, watching as Risil rose and swept out of the room with her head held high. He shook his head as he turned back to watch as cheers rose up, nearly deafening him. The beads were in place.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I need to speak."

Thranduil waved a graceful hand at Elrohir as the elf interrupted the tail end of the evening. "Speak."

Elrohir said nothing, waiting expectantly.

The elvish king sighed. Most everyone else had taken their leave for the night. He waved the remaining away with an irritated air.

Kili and Tauriel had long since retired, and if pattern held they'd be walking hand-in-hand through the corridors. Elladan's endurance was gaining, but still low. That elf had retired several hours previously with Balin with him, the two discussing history and the names that Dwarves had given traditional Elvish heroes over the years. Some of those names hadn't been exactly polite.

Thranduil looked over at Elrohir, but the gray-eyed elf lord shook his head. Surprised, the Elvish king glanced at his guards. With a flick of his eyes, and his mind, they moved, leaving the two in private. Doors closed. "Well?"

Elrohir ground his teeth together, not altogether trusting.

Thranduil paused, watching the younger elf lord speculatively. "Speak or don't it makes no difference to me."

A whisper soft touch, mind to mind. Almost like a tap on the door.

Thranduil made a face. He wasn't in the practice of opening himself to just anyone, and this stripling from Imladris was being rude. He denied the touch.

"Tilion's Heir."

The whispered words shook Thranduil badly. He froze for a moment, then put his wine glass down, barely touched. Turning, he blinked slowly at Elrohir.

 _"Tell me."_ The king spoke directly into Elrohir's mind, committing not another word aloud where it might be noted or overheard.

 _"What do you know?"_ Elrohir responded to the demand with a question.

Thranduil shook his head, refusing to answer.

_"I know I ride with him."_

Eyes narrowed as Thranduil hissed in reaction, drawing back with distaste as he shook his head. _"Impossible."_

_"Kuilaith has seen Galadriel's memories. He bathed in the light of the Two Trees and can describe them perfectly. When Sauron manifested within Erebor, my nephew gathered the light of the Trees to his defense. He thinks he used the Eldar Light to brighten his soul, but Galadriel says not. Cirdan himself has spoken on this matter."_

Thranduil walked to his chair, an ostentatious and richly appointed throne. He sank down onto the seat with inborn grace, but no artifice, not now. His mind raced. "No." He said aloud.

 _"He mind-spoke earlier. An inappropriate picture with he and Tauriel, one that makes my brother most uncomfortable."_ Elrohir said, pacing with his hands behind his back. _"What my brother forgets is that between us twins it took years to send even a static picture between us. Words. We form them and send them to another, that is the way it works. Not whole pictures excepting between those of a long and close relationship."_

Thranduil stared, his mind alarmingly blank with shock.

Elrohir stopped, pinning the monarch with a worried look full of fears unspoken. _"The picture my brother sent to me carried touch, movement, and scent. Ever before, only the Lady of Lorien has ever been able to do thus, at least to me."_

Thranduil felt the world tilt beneath his feet. Only a few times in his life had he spoken with someone mind-to-mind in such a close manner to share something so complete. Oropher had been able to do that with his son, but rarely. Galadriel. Even Mithrandir once or twice over the many millennia.

Kuilaith? Kili. A Dwarf. A child. No, no, no.

 _"Cirdan said that Kuilaith may not actually be Tilion's Heir so much as that Sauron would make him such by dint of his own fear and belief."_ Elrohir said into the silence of the king's mind.

Thranduil waved a hand at the other elf. He needed to think. Tilion's Heir. Those that read portents had been seeing the name creep into things lately. The first mention had been about the time the Dwarves had first arrived within the Mirkwood's borders, actually. Thranduil nodded to himself. Yes. Then the omens had increased following the Battle of Five Armies. When Galadriel and the others had arrived, revealing Kili's actual background. Coincidence?

 _"We know little. Merely the name."_ Thranduil made a face as he spoke silently. _"And that the name stands against the Darkness. What else there might be, it still is clouded." _He would NOT admit that he'd been heartened, thinking that the Valar would send assistance against Mordor. Perhaps re-embody more heroes from the past.__

A Dwarf? A child no less? It was unfathomable.

 _"I would counsel with the Lady. Or Cirdan."_ Elrohir said. _"I must go."_

"Go? Go where?" Thranduil laughed bitterly, abruptly rolling to his feet with smooth grace and speed as he took up his wine glass once more. "It is well and truly winter. The snows hamper travel and what more is there to know? No. Take the time given."

Elrohir stared at Thranduil, unsure.

"Train your nephew."

"This is beyond me." Elrohir said simply. "I can train him, certainly. But only so far."

Thranduil shrugged elegantly. "Do it. I will set aside room and space for such. Say nothing of the other. Just train him as an elfling should be trained."

"But …" Light-gray eyes still seemed unsure as Elrohir shook his head.

"He was training with the Lady in Erebor? Fine. In her absence, send him to me each afternoon."

Elrohir stilled, staring. He didn't think that was a good plan. Thranduil and Kuilaith did not like each other, not even a little. "Perhaps some alternative method …."

"Elrohir? That wasn't a request." Thranduil finished off his wine, he sat the fine crystal down with no regard for its delicacy or expense. "Tomorrow. Send the child to me tomorrow."

The younger elf lord watched as Thranduil swept regally from the room, leaving the doors open as he left.

That had not gone as expected.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Saruman unwrapped his hands rather awkwardly, not trusting in anyone else. His joints ached a bit, not unusual in the cold. He looked around his new rooms with a sniff.

A whole tower and he was forced to live below ground level. Hidden. Let the guards of Rohir make the place seem as if uninhabited.

Here, in secret, he could heal and plan. "Galmod? GALMOD?"

The Rohirrim man of Dunnish descent came running, greasy hair in disarray and pulling on his clothing in a rush. "Sir?"

"I need some things." Saruman spoke imperiously, pointing at a piece of parchment on his desk. "Bring them to me."

"It's not even three of the clock." Galmod yawned as he protested.

Saruman turned and glared at the man, who ducked his head muttering about being awaken before the sun. Still, he grabbed the list of items and scurried from the room.

The wizard would have preferred a better servant. But Galmod did suit his needs. Weak-minded fool that he was, he was still a member of the Rohirrim. Not every horse-rider was under Saruman's control, so it was good to have eyes and ears above.

He needed time. Time to heal properly, time to plan and time lull the enemy into believing him vanished.

Sarumand cursed under his breath. Forced out of hiding before he was ready. Revealing himself. Sauron hadn't been pleased. The wizard flexed the knitting bones in his hands, no, the Deceiver had NOT been pleased at all.

Tilion's Heir. What? Who? The portents weren't clear, not yet. That's why he'd sent Galmod out for more supplies.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"But I need ale to celebrate properly!" Fili grinned fatuously as he tugged on the new beads hanging next to his face.

Thorin rolled his eyes. "You celebrated already. I can smell the whiskey on you from here." The king looked at Gloin, who was holding up the other half of Fili. Between them the blond prince hung nearly boneless.

"Not to mention the wine that was used to toast the two of you all through dinner." The red-bearded dwarrow grunted.

As one the two cousins basically threw the younger dwarrow across the bed.

Fili laid where he landed, face down on the blankets.

Gloin scratched his chin and shook his head. "We should take off his boots at least."

Thorin gestured for the other dwarf to go ahead. Gloin made a face, but turned and straddled Fili's right foot, tugging on the heavy boot. "Well. Busy night."

Gloin grunted roughly and the boot shifted, coming loose an inch at a time. Finally he tossed it aside and moved to the other foot. Fili didn't so much as mumble. "He's out."

Thorin nodded, leaning against a small table as he crossed his arms. "Gloin?"

The red-bearded dwarrow kept on with his task, though he grunted again just to show he was listening.

"I need you."

The second boot popped off suddenly, nearly slipping from the red-head's grasp. It joined its mate on the floor. Both males turned to stare at Fili who hadn't so much as moved through the process. "He can sleep in those leathers." Gloin commented dryly.

"I need you." Thorin repeated.

Gloin nodded. "I'll do whatever you need, you know that."

"Stay with us."

Uncomfortable all of a sudden, Gloin rolled his neck awkwardly. "Didn't fight for Erebor all this way to leave her now."

"Don't go Waiting, not yet." The king said quietly. "There will be a lot more battles with Mordor rising. I don't need you flinging yourself at every orc or goblin hoping they'll be the one to send you off to wait with her."

Gloin didn't pretend to misunderstand. He glared at the king. "You ask much."

"I need you. By damned if both Fili and Kili won't need you." Thorin pushed up out of his lean, moving to grasp his cousin by the shoulders. "Don't waste your blood on scraps, save it for Sauron. Saruman. Gimli needs you especially."

"He's got you." Gloin commented.

"I need you. Beside me." Thorin shrugged. "I need you to watch me. Knock me around if necessary. Don't let me sink again."

At the oblique mention of the Dragon Sickness, Gloin's eyes narrowed. "The gold calling to you?"

"Always." Thorin grumbled, running a hand over the back of his neck. "Not like before. I'm ….alright. Now. I nearly lost it all, Gloin."

The red-bearded warrior sighed, nodding. He'd seen, he knew. "Bad?"

"No. It helps, this …" Thorin waved at Fili's slumbering form. "This helps, and I nearly destroyed him. Both of them."

Gloin didn't disagree, he couldn't, not in good conscience. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "I want Saruman's blood."

"Me too." Thorin nodded, thinking of the wizard who'd betrayed them all.

"That's my price. For staying around. Saruman. I want to bath my axes I the heat of his blood."

The king nodded, seeing the light of vengeance in his cousin and long-time friend. "Durin's Line. We are stone."

"We are stone." Gloin repeated stoically.


	70. In which Kili's lessons begin

"I believe my son is avoiding me this morning." Elladan said as he notched another arrow.

Elrohir approached his twin slowly from behind, not really wanting to have this particular conversation. He glanced over at the small targets with a low hum of approval.

"It tires me out more than it should." Elladan complained with a sour expression which tightened into determination as he again took aim. The arrow split the air with a sleek sound and embedded itself in the center of the target. He glanced back at his twin and blinked slowly. "I've not been out here two hours and my shoulder muscles burn."

Elrohir gave a rather curt nod to show he'd heard.

Elladan's gaze sharpened, especially when the face that was a mirror to his own did not raise his eyes. "You avoid me as well?" He asked quietly. "What news is so distasteful that you must gather courage to speak with me?"

"Kuilaith does not avoid you. More than probably he wishes he was right here by your side."

Elladan stiffened, hearing the carefully neutral tone of his brother's voice. He turned and looked around. They were alone. He raised a single eyebrow at his brother, asking without asking.

"Tauriel is with Balin, learning about Dwarven history and politics."

Elladan nodded slowly. "My son?"

"Was informed that Thranduil wanted to speak with him."

"I am aware, he was with me when the message arrived. Yet that was hours ago."

Elrohir looked down at his feet in avoidance. Which did nothing for his brother's increasing unease. "Interesting message that Kuilaith was able to mind-send."

Elladan snorted, blushing lightly at the memory.

"Very detailed. Very strong."

A hitch in breathing as Elladan considered the words. Very carefully he spoke. "Showing the strength of his desire for marriage."

"Perhaps more than that." Elrohir winced before he looked up and met his twin's gaze.

Elladan shook his head. "You and I have done similar."

Elrohir kept his brother's eyes pinned on him as he very slowly shook his head negatively.

"We have. It just shows a closeness. He is my son, it is no wonder the image was so strong. Add to that how much he was wanting to send that thought."

"Brother …"

Elladan raised a hand, forefinger lifted with a slight curl to the other digits. A signal to wait. To forestall. To hold off. To not bring something into reality by speaking of it aloud.

"The images you and I share are stronger than what we can accomplish with Father or Arwen. Yes, perhaps some with our mother's mother but not often. Father always put that down to our bond as twins, growing in the same womb together. Connected in an ineffable manner." The next word out of Elrohir's mouth was not of any language of Arda. It was of the language that he and his twin had spoken solely together as elflings. It simply meant, remember.

Elladan stilled, unable to move away no matter how strongly his muscles ached to jump clear. Warnings of some unseen danger clanged within his nervous system. He said nothing though, waiting, waiting.

"Kuilaith fought against Saruman."

Even with his excellent hearing, Elladan had to struggle to hear the whispered words of his twin. His mind flew back to that brilliant glow, the moment when he'd realized that Kuilaith had freed him to move. Freed them all to breathe.

"The light he gathered ….Kuilaith was unable to gather the Light of the Eldar and send a message or form an attack. He is not far enough in his training, and you know this."

"Emergencies bring out the unexpected." Elladan whispered.

Elrohir snorted in dry amusement at that understatement.

"What my son could not accomplish during studied times and controlled circumstances, he managed when lives were at stake." Elladan sighed, shaking his head. "The move collapsed him, drained him, as it should have to one who is new to our ways. He did well."

"Better than well." Elrohir blinked and sighed. "Brother. Kuilaith sought sanctuary in the light. But not the Eldar light within us all, he still fears that part of himself, as you well know."

"Speak plain."

"When Kuilaith crashed his mental walls, after your head injury in the mines, the Lady healed him." Elrohir flicked his glance to his brother's face as Elladan nodded for him to continue. "Apparently it was a close healing, she had to step within his thoughts. And he into hers apparently."

Elladan frowned. Where was this going?

"He saw the Light of the Two Trees within her memory."

A gasped breath, then a nod. Elladan's mind raced, but could find no purchase on which to find stable ground. He still did not know what his twin was trying to explain.

"In the fight in King Thorin's study, your son …my nephew …was blocked like the rest of you from reaching the Eldar light. So Kuilaith took instinctive cover …" Elrohir stepped closer, though that was unnecessary as his next words were not aloud but spoken solely within his twin's mind. _"He wrapped himself in the Light of the Two Trees that somehow had stayed with him."_

Brilliant light. Strong, sure, glowing, and able to cast off Saruman's spells that would have crushed the air and life from the lungs of all within that study. No. Elladan shook his head, his ears ringing. He didn't have to deny anything, his feelings were written across his face.

Elrohir nodded very slowly, and with terrible sureness. "Galadriel and Cirdan both concur."

Elladan stepped back defensively before his mouth firmed and he stilled. "Concur on what, exactly?"

"What do you remember of father's lessons? Of Tilion?"

Whatever response Elladan had been expecting, that was no where even close. "Where is Kuilaith?" He asked, not answering.

Elrohir smiled sadly. "Where he'd least like to be, I presume. With Thranduil. I answered you, now you do the same for me."

"Tilion?"

Elrohir hissed, shutting his brother up quite effectively. _"Here. Do not speak aloud."_

Elladan blinked uncertainly. Tilion was one of the maia, the one charged with one of the final fruits of the Two Trees. The moon. But what did an ancient history lesson have to do with his son?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The sun was bright, even if the temperature did not reflect that. Erelinde blew out a breath, watching it fog before her face. "Why does the sun seem brighter during winter, but it is so much colder?"

Glorfindel smiled easily even as he laid out the blades with what looked like no attention, but in actuality was quite precise. "Ah. The Great Darkness ever fights with the light of the last fruits of the trees, and during winter strives to keep the heat from warming us, though the light pierces through. The Darkness gains, as the days shorten …."

"There's less humidity and water vapor." Dwalin grumped as he interrupted rudely. "Makes it seem brighter, that's all."

"I thought it was the reflection of light from the snow." Ori scratched his chin through his thick woven scarf. Beside him, Risil Blacklock sat on a bench the dwarrow had pulled up for her. Her cheeks were prettily pinkened and she was smiling, though bundled up for the weather.

Glorfindel blinked, standing still, and then sighed with mock despair. "Are there no poets? No dreamers? So prosaic and …."

"Why do elves use five words for every one that should be necessary?" Risil asked aloud of no one in particular, her eyes skipping over the form of the tall elf to settle on the other dwarves.

"To be more precise." The ignored Elf replied. "To bring clarity, purity, and …."

"To show off their vocabulary." Ori burped deliberately with a grin. "According to Thorin."

Glorfindel drew up to the fullness of his much taller stature, looking down on the unrepentant dwarrow. "And why aren't you with King Thorin now? A lack of precision? Clarity?"

"He sent me out here to supervise."

Dwalin laughed, shaking his head as he gestured for Erelinde to come closer to the blades. "Ori. He sent you out here to save your life as he deals with Dori and the mess from the guild letters. And it doesn't explain why you brought along company." He glared darkly at the dwarrowdam.

Risil laughed, a throaty sound full of promise and heat.

The young dwarrow blushed, but set his lips mulishly. "I'm supervising. King's orders." He didn't answer about the Blacklock heiress, for truthfully he wasn't sure what had caused him to invite her to join him outside. She'd stopped by to talk with him at breakfast and somehow had ended up accompanying him this morning. At his request, though he couldn't exactly recall how THAT had come about.

"Then supervise. From over there." Dwalin turned to the blonde dam and pointed at the line of blades. "What do you know about daggers?"

"They're sharp." Erelinde drew back as the bald warrior glared balefully at her. "They're weapons."

"Ori?" Dwalin bit out the name.

"Close combat, can be used for stabbing and thrusting. Multiple purposes and they can come in many different configurations. Single or double blade sharpened. Throwing, though that's not as sure as when used in closer proximity."

Dwalin clenched his jaw tight and turned to glare at Ori, who had not been the one to answer. The young dwarf blushed as the pretty dwarrowdam lifted one hand and waved flirtatiously. "Did I get it wrong?" She asked innocently enough. "My father and brother taught me." She added, as if daring any Longbeard from disparaging either of those fine Dwarves.

Glorfindel said nothing, just taking note of Risil Blacklock's demeanor and audaciousness. He watched without appearing to pay much attention.

"My talents lay more with needles." Erelinde sounded almost apologetic as her sky-blue eyes scanned over the weaponry laid out.

"A dagger type weapon without a sharpened edge, more needle-like, is called a stiletto." Risil smiled, and when all the males turned to glare at her she spread her hands. "I'm only trying to be helpful. The elf should agree, as my words are ….for clarity."

Glorfindel smiled darkly but made no comment.

"My skills are unlikely to be called into service on a battlefield." Erelinde licked her lips, feeling off-balance, and Risil's presence wasn't helping. She wanted to tell the other dwarrowdam to be gone, though that felt rude and stank of cowardice. Something unseemly to any dwarf, regardless of profession or gender.

"Throw one." Dwalin gestured toward the target.

"Isn't that a little insulting, having the target so close?" Risil asked with faked concern, frowning prettily.

Ori blushed hotter, hunching his shoulders a bit and still wondering how the dam had finagled an invitation from him in the first place.

"Which one?" Erelinde looked over the wide variety of daggers with a mounting sense of impending doom. Dwalin had provided her with a wide selection and she felt as if this was some sort of test. If so, she'd failed to study.

Sky blue eyes dismissed the more ornate weapons, those with a great deal of jewels or fancy hilts that sprouted out from the blade like bird wings.

"Come, strike the target." Dwalin prodded her, then growled as something flew by his face and thunked heavily into the stuffed-straw enemy. He turned and noted the precise throw and then spun to glare at Risil.

The Blacklock heiress was now standing. "You wanted it attacked." She shrugged prettily, blinking her eyelashes at him. "I killed it."

Dwalin scanned her quickly, but saw no overt sheathes or blades. He frowned. "Where were you hiding that?" He barked.

Risil walked up to him with a predatory smile, her eyes moving to no one else as she approached. When arriving in front of the bald warrior she turned her head and winked at Erelinde, who looked startled. "We dams have our secrets."

"It was in her boot." Ori called out, not having moved, his voice sounding rather reedy as he blushed hotly. He mimed lifting up a skirt.

"Oh darling, a dwarf that can't keep a lady's secret ….tsk." Risil crooned over at the young scribe.

"If he meets a lady, I'm sure that he could keep her secret. Until then …" Dwalin challenged her honor head on, making Risil spin back and glare at him.

He smirked, she sniffed in studied disdain as she drew herself up proudly. "Don't you want to search me for hidden and dangerous weapons?" Risil stepped back, smiling coquettishly as she spread her arms in an overt display.

Erelinde watched, barely breathing. This kind of brashness was entirely foreign to her sensibilities. In the back of her mind she wondered, was this something Fili would be attracted to? No. He wouldn't have sought out HER beads if that were the case. Right? Yet …when he'd helped Risil from her horse, they'd looked …close. She knew he'd not kissed the other dam, but maybe he'd been tempted?

"Is that an invitation?" Dwalin's eyes narrowed upon the Blacklock dam.

"Hardly. I'd never let you touch me, or search beneath my skirts." She leaned in as if to impart some great secret. Her smile teased as she spoke. "And that's where all the more dangerous weapons are with a dwarrowdam, don't you agree Erelinde?"

Sky blue eyes stared, hardly daring to blink. She hadn't given leave to the Blacklock dam to use her name so familiarly, but protesting seemed so childish. While struggling with how to react, her chance disappeared.

Risil's smile turned a bit toothy, not diminishing her appeal but raising the threat level. "However, if Prince Fili wants to search me, he has an open invitation." She turned and winked at Erelinde. "Just send him to my chambers whenever. I'll make sure he's ….thorough."

With that parting shot, Risil swept away, her hips swaying an enticing but not overly exaggerated beat.

Ori whistled under his breath.

Erelinde stared, not sure how to react or what to say. She wasn't clever and worldly like the Blacklock dam. Embarrassed, she looked down at the daggers laid out like a buffet before her. She had NO clue which ones would throw best. She couldn't just let the moment go, it was too much like giving up. But she had nothing but some weapons she didn't know how to use and a row of spare targets she couldn't hit, all ready to be hung once she started … oh.

"Risil?"

At the quiet tone of the white-blonde, the Blacklock dam stilled, turning with a smirk. She'd already won the contest. Not that Fili was here to see, but word would spread quickly. A bundle of straw hit her in the chest and it was instinct that made her catch it. She looked down at the thing a bit lost.

"If you're so keen to make yourself a target, I thought I'd let you take one back with you. As a model."

Rich brown eyes blinked and widened at the implication. She looked up at Erelinde who was trying hard to look brave. Risil smiled and nodded, accepting the challenge. "Pay attention to your lessons then." She tossed the small target up into the air and catching it neatly. "If you miss, targets have a habit of fighting back." She turned and headed back inside.

Erelinde was breathing a bit heavily as she turned back to the display of weapons. "Not the ones with jewels." She said.

Dwalin grunted. Glorfindel reached down with his elegantly long fingers and pushed a blade closer to her. It was plain and had no hilt, a single piece of metal, one end sharpened and one end not.

The bald warrior scowled instantly, shaking his head. "Too light, she needs something heavier."

"This one would aim better, be steadier in flight." Glorfindel protested.

"It's about the damage." Dwalin protested, shaking his head. "That would only bounce off. Couldn't damage a thing."

"There won't be any damage if it doesn't hit what she aims at." The golden-haired elf responded, his eyes flashing stubbornly.

Erelinde picked up a blade, testing the balance, though she didn't really know what to do past that as the two warriors of different races argued stability, distance, damage, and accuracy.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili looked around the chamber trying not to appear impressed. He might be a prince by blood, but he'd grown up in a rather mean cabin with items more suited to function than fashion or style.

Erebor had been described to him his entire life, but the reality was beyond anything of his experience. Even run down and in need of repair the Dwarven kingdom had overwhelmed him at times.

But here there were silks and satins worth at least ten times more than his mam's cabin, and that was just with the chairs. It wasn't as spectacular as Erebor's treasury though. Kili nodded grimly to himself. He had to remember that.

"Wine?"

Kili blinked. "It's not even noon yet."

"Ale then?"

He was sore tempted, but Kili managed to shake his head in denial. When he looked Thranduil was still staring at him. The half-dwarven youth straightened his spine. "No, but I thank you for the offer."

"Better." Thranduil said lazily, and then just kept watching.

Kili tried to stand as still as possible, but first the side of his nose started to itch. Not badly, just a trifle. But it was difficult not to scratch or to fidget. A hair, or some particle of dust or …or …something tickled the back of his left hand. And the right ear. Kili was pretty certain if he scratched all of these places at once he'd look like some deranged animal needing to be put down. "Sir?"

"Yes? Kuilaith?"

"Uhm, you sent for me." The dark-haired youth reminded the elven monarch, in case he'd forgotten.

"Yes."

Kili waited, but nothing else was forthcoming. Silence fell between them and then dragged on far longer than was needed for mere awkwardness. "King Thranduil?"

"Yes, Kuilaith?"

"Did you need me for something?" Kili blinked, very ill at ease.

"No."

Kili nodded and looked longingly at the closed door to this richly appointed chamber. Fine. It was a game, but he didn't want to play. Kili reached up and scratched his nose, his ear, then the back of his neck and lastly his hand. He blew out a noise between his lips and looked around. He chose the richest looking chair and walked over and plopped down as if he owned the place. He grinned at the elvish king and then winked as he lounged back.

"Did I give you leave to make yourself comfortable?"

"No." Kili replied, using the same tone of voice that Thranduil had been using earlier. "But I don't know that this isn't what you meant by your silence." He shrugged diffidently and picked up his feet and deliberately put them on a low table of fine, polished wood.

Thranduil stared for a moment. "Your Elvish name. How did you come about it?"

Kili blinked and nodded, he shrugged again. "Galadriel."

This seemed to set the king back a moment. Thranduil stared at the youth for a moment. "Not your father or his father?"

Kili shook his head. "The Lady of Light sat down at dinner and changed my name like you change your socks." He suddenly laughed and shrugged again. "I only suppose. I don't actually know how you change your socks, but I must assume you do. Nothing stinks. Well, actually, some things do, but they stink of flowers which isn't a real stinky kind of odor after all. Why do you like flowers so much?"

Thranduil's lips thinned in response. "The pin that Tauriel wears is a type of flower, is it not?"

Kili's smile disappeared and he suddenly looked solemn.

Thranduil nodded slowly. "A private matter, that pin? Then you should not have gifted her something that she'd wear in public."

"Right." Kili forced himself to relax back into his chosen seat. "You're right." But he didn't explain the pin, the gift, or the story behind it.

"So. It is a gift from you then." Thranduil looked smug as he sat back in his own seat.

Kili mentally called himself a fool.

Thranduil watched the chagrin and temper flow like water across the youth's face. "I don't need to have you mind-speak. What you think and feel are plain in your expression. I thought all dwarves were such dour creatures."

Kili's facial muscles froze, his expression turning stony.

"Ah. Just like that." Thranduil nodded in mock approval. "You don't like me."

Kili didn't feel the need to refute that statement.

"I don't like you." The elvish king continued. "But then, I like very, very few. With a name like yours I doubt that there are many that you don't like."

"You might be surprised." Kili said without thought, then nearly biting his tongue into two pieces.

"Ah." Thranduil sat forward as if the dark-haired prince had finally done something interesting. "Tell me how you feel about me. I give you leave. But not aloud, never aloud. Tell me."

Kili's eyes went wide and he sat back, stunned. He shook his head.

Thranduil tapped the side of his head and nodded at the brunet. "We will stay here, not eating, not drinking, nothing until you manage this." He reached for a cup of water, taking a small sip.

Kili's eyes narrowed dangerously. He opened his mouth.

"Ah, ah!" Thranduil interrupted. "You speak aloud, for anything, you lose. Fond of bets I hear, are the dwarves. So." He took a small silver coin and leaned forward, tossing it so that it landed on the table in front of Kili. "I bet that you can't keep your mouth closed and your mind open."

Kili frowned sharply, his dark eyes going from the coin as it settled back up to Thranduil's face. He didn't give a damn about the money, but he was NOT going to lose honor to this ….this ….

"Whatever you are thinking of calling me, do it with your mind." Thranduil said lazily, taking another sip of his water. "And just to be clear, when I said no food or drink, I meant only you, of course."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel ignored the whispers and bold staring behind her back. She kept her head high as she moved through the area to where the weavers kept their looms.

Balin moved beside her, having to move quickly to keep up with the she-elf's longer stride. He gave a smile to each one he caught looking in their direction. Some looked away while others openly gawked. "Lass?"

Tauriel drew to a halt beside one male elf with long hair the color of summer wheat. "Since when did you quadruple your prices?" She said without greetings or preamble, propping one hand on a hip while the other held a wrapped packet.

The elf in question looked up, not at her, but to Balin. His gaze slid up to meet hers next. "I am under no obligation to sell any of my work."

"You do so regularly, for either monies or trade depending on your needs."

"This isn't necessary. I can make do, I assure you." Balin said, a bit taken aback by how angry Tauriel had gotten when he'd casually mentioned the prices asked for materials that he needed. "Please, I took no offense."

"You should." Tauriel murmured, then stilled. She turned to Balin with a most direct look. "Your brother yelled at me for not taking offense enough when I was insulted. My choice. But these crafters do not know you and have had no dealings with you. Their actions are not against you as a person, but solely because of your race. For this I do take offense."

"I am not outside of my rights." The elf stated unequivocally, standing up to emphasize his point.

Tauriel smiled tightly. "Oh, I have no doubts and I will not deal with you or your wares again. But I wanted to know …" The she-elf unfolded the cloth from over the packet she was holding, and a long stream of beautifully knotted lace work fell like a shimmering cloud to catch the light. "Oh, I brought the wrong package."

"Where did you come across that?" A brunette she-elf stepped forward boldly, her eyes lighting up as she looked at the delicate lace.

Balin stilled, not having realized that Tauriel had already crafted a plan. He'd misread the situation. With a soft, beaming smile he nodded. "This? Oh, some trade goods gifted to us from one of our crafters." He tried to sound off-hand about it.

Tauriel's hand caught the stream of lace work and lifted it, folding it gently back into the package. She could almost feel the weight of covetous looks being sent her way, following the movement of her hands. "Balin. I have made a mistake, I thought I had your measurements and sample pieces."

"No problem, lass."

"Give." The brunette she-elf licked her lips. "What do you want for the lace, how much do you have?"

Tauriel shook her head. "The lace is to be a gift, and was given to me by a friend. A dwarven friend. It is not for sale."

Balin's eyebrows rose, just how was she playing this?

Apparently that was the brunette's question as well. She looked around her at some of the other weavers and then made a gesture with her hand. Tauriel held out the lace, but didn't relinquish her hold.

The brunette she elf inspected the lace carefully, glancing up at Tauriel with a throaty laugh. "What do you want?"

"Fair prices and a modicum of respect, if you don't feel it's earned then give it until proven otherwise." Tauriel tilted her head slightly in Balin's direction.

"In return?"

Tauriel shrugged. "The lace-maker is possibly to be my sister through marriage one day, if all goes as planned." She blinked slowly as she nodded. "And if not, she is still a dear friend. In exchange I would negotiate for preferential trade."

The first elf shook his head. "Never."

"Well, I will." The brunette smiled winningly, and a few others also nodded. "And to prove goodwill, I will even help with the fitting." She leaned toward Balin. "Tauriel is wonderful with a blade, and only passable with a needle."

"All assistance would be quite welcome." Balin nodded graciously, his smile growing.

"Now. How did you get to be out here, stuck for the winter, without a wardrobe?"

"Ah my dear, that is a tale." Balin smiled and shrugged. "My brother was supposed to come, but a sudden attack by orcs and goblins left him wounded and I on his horse and with his packs." He leaned forward conspiratorily. "My brother and I are not interchangeable when it comes to clothing."

"A burgundy would look good on him." Another voice called out helpfully.

Tauriel smiled and turned to look at the first weaver. "Trenien is your cousin, but it wasn't the Dwarves that asked for his honor. He was declared derelict of duty by the Lady of Light. His own actions brought his shame."

The male elf considered her words. "He claims otherwise."

"King Thranduil himself was present and helped in passing judgement." Tauriel's voice softened. "You've never gotten along with your cousin well, I know he is family but you and I have never had a problem before."

The elf looked over towards Balin and then back at Tauriel. He met her eyes, but was the first to look away. "We don't have one now, just … a bit of lace won't change my mind."

Tauriel smiled and pulled the trailing edge of the lace back out so he could see it better. "No bribery, no trade. Just keep a fair mind?"

The male nodded slowly, then smiled slightly. "It's gorgeous lace."

"She's a jewel." Tauriel said quietly. "Truth? I about fell over when she gifted it to me."

"They treat you well?"

"Aye." Tauriel smiled, thinking of her dark-eyed love. Then shrugged. "The tea took some getting used to at first. Very strong."

"Do they make you live underground?" Another elf sidled up, curious.

"Make me? No." Tauriel refused to think of the underground female quarters Dis had been showing her when Saruman had attacked. "Their king let me move my guest room to one along the outside wall, with a balcony. They aren't sure how to take me at times, but have been very welcoming in general."

"I didn't think they had female dwarves." Someone else commented.

Tauriel laughed as everyone seemed to relax and start to catch up with each other.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"How could you keep this from me? How could they?" Elladan's light gray eyes had darkened with temper, almost like storm clouds.

His twin watched him sorrowfully. "You were ill unto death."

"I could cheerfully drop you over the edge of a very tall cliff." Elladan clenched his jaw, his fists spasmodically fisting and unfisting.

"You would have every right."

"Stop! Don't agree with me! You kept this from me! ME! Your brother." The tall elf shook himself, angry beyond telling. "He is my son!"

Elrohir nodded, understanding completely.

"Cirdan. Galadriel. Father." Elladan spun, staring at his twin. "Father? Does he know?"

"I am not sure." Elrohir admitted.

"Thorin?"

"I do not know."

Elladan growled, pacing. "I ….he must be so confused. If you and I don't know what this means then he must be going crazy about it."

"Galadriel and Cirdan don't even know what it means." Elrohir admitted. "That's what is so worrisome."

"Aye." Elladan moaned, dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I knew something weighed upon him. I put it down to having to flee Erebor, leaving Fili and King Thorin, his mother."

"All of that too. The strain on him is tremendous." Elrohir closed his eyes with dismay. "I sent him to Thranduil. I didn't know what else to do, this is beyond me, us."

Elladan wanted to howl. "He must be despondent, or near to exploding. Thranduil? That can't be going well at all."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thranduil watched, torn between being appalled or strangely amused. Kili leaned back in the elegantly carved chair, balancing it on two legs as he blew the feather back into the air. Again. Fifteen times in a row. Giggling between each breath and waving his arms like a madman to keep the chair balanced.


	71. In which marks are left

"What is wrong with Kili?"

Elladan looked up, annoyed at being interrupted while he walked outside. Tauriel. She had come upon him silently, actually surprising him. He should have been paying better mind. Green eyes pinned him accusingly, with the she-elf's generous mouth set along stubborn lines. "Kuilaith." He said smoothly, drawing out the name deliberately.

Tauriel ignored the correction, even if this was her love's father. "For a week he meets daily with Thranduil, coming back exhausted and silent."

"It's Thranduil." Elladan said in a deliberately offsetting manner even as he searched the area with every sense he had. They weren't alone, but close enough. Still, he had to be careful, even here in the strength of the Mirkwood. Maybe especially here.

Tauriel clearly didn't care for that answer, her expression concerned and frustrated. He knew how she felt. Elladan too worried over his son's state of mind. Especially since Kuilaith wasn't sharing his problems with his father. He'd at least thought his son was sharing with the she-elf. Apparently not.

"You and your brother have ceased speaking." She said a bit ruthlessly. It was both statement and question.

"A private matter." Elladan responded coldly.

"Not if it affects Kili."

This answer finally got the high-elf's full attention. He stopped walking and looked at Tauriel fully. The moment lengthened between them silently. "Why do you not call Kuilaith by his name?"

"Why do you not?" She shot back.

Elladan's eyebrows rose. "You grow braver."

"Bravery I've always had." Tauriel's chin rose. "Perhaps the thin veneer of politeness is vanishing, rubbed away."

Amused in spite of himself, Elladan allowed the tiniest of smiles. "Perhaps." He didn't argue the point of Kuilaith's name however, by either Elvish or Dwarvish reckoning, his son was the same person. Only the viewpoint changed. In one he was a full adult, in the other still a minor. In one he was engaged to be married, in the other merely precocious. Elladan's humor faded as his mind travelled along those lines to the inevitable conclusion that while there were differences, there were also similarities. In both races he was of high blood, important, and loved beyond ability to measure. Not the least of which by the angry red-head standing next to him.

"Tauriel …"

"Don't put me off." She demanded almost desperately. "He won't talk, you won't talk. Balin is confused and we cannot survive, much less protect him, if we don't come to some sort of understanding!"

Elladan quirked an eyebrow at her as she breathed heavily. He considered his next words with extreme caution. "Very well, daughter."

That shut her up, with her green eyes gone huge with shock. Her mouth opened, but it was clear she wasn't sure how to respond. He'd hit the target dead center with that one word. Elladan grunted in satisfaction. "Get Balin. I don't want to discuss this but once, the more often it is mentioned aloud the more often it can be overheard."

Tauriel stood frozen before him. She blinked. "This is more than wanting Kili to learn more about becoming and elf." She whispered hoarsely, guessing.

"He is one, he doesn't have to become one." The words slipped out irritably. Elladan twitched his robes back into perfect folds. "This is more, very much more."

Tauriel blinked at the high-elf, indecisive on what to make of his words. She finally gave a short, jerky nod, leaving by backing away before turning to seek out Balin.

Elladan sighed and mentally sought out his twin. Not that they could mind-speak unless in line-of-sight. But being two halves of a whole came with some benefits, like being able to touch the other's mind from a distant. An impression more than an actual thought.

Elrohir's mind was closed, but recognized his twin's 'call'. Elladan felt relief, curiosity, and a certain distance as well as a response. Fair enough. He had been cold toward Elrohir for near a week now, reaction to the news about Kuilaith, and not having been a party to that news from the very beginning.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Left." Dwalin's teeth ground together in frustration as he dropped his head, aggrieved. "Left, left, left!"

Erelinde spun left, looking wildly around her and waving the dagger like she was looking for a likely steak to serve rather than an enemy to take care of.

Dwalin reached up and dragged a slow hand down over his face while growling aloud, showing his vexed temper. "You're dead. Again."

The pretty blonde dam clenched her dagger tighter.

"Loosen your fingers. You grip it that tightly you're not prepared to throw it."

At the bald warrior's words, Erelinde blinked. "You have your eyes closed, how …."

"A week with you and I know your every move. I don't have to watch you make those moves." Dwalin sighed heavily. "Such as they are."

Sky-blue eyes looked despondent as she sheathed her borrowed weapon. The dwarrow had looked over her own daggers and pronounced them as eating utensils or crafting tools. Well. Of course they were.

"Raiders took your mam and brother." Dwalin continued, making her spine straighten faster than lightning could strike. "And you don't know how to protect yourself better than this?"

"Those raiders took down full-on warriors." Erelinde said with more calm than she actually felt. "My learning to be a fighter wasn't going to help me any. I'm a crafter, Dwalin. I am very, very good at what I do. This?" She waved her hands around her at the practice area. "This isn't what I do."

"So. How would you, as a crafter, protect yourself?" He opened his eyes, glaring harshly at her.

Erelinde's chin lifted, refusing to back down or away. "I craft. I make money, I can afford to live in a protected town. Kingdom. Mountain. I surround myself with strong warriors capable of protecting their homes and their people. Like you."

A laugh, more of a snort really, interrupted the duo.

Two sets of eyes turned to meet those of Thorin and his sister who had obviously just arrived.

"Good day to you, your majesty. Lady Dis." Erelinde sketched a rather charming curtsy that had Dwalin rolling his eyes.

"She has a point." Dis called out with a mischievous grin toward her cousin. "A queen doesn't necessarily have to step out of the shadow of her guards."

"What if she is needed to lead an army?"

At Dwalin's question, the king blinked stoically. Deadpan, he responded. "We'd be dead."

Erelinde blushed hotly, stumbling over an apology for her ineptitude. Wondering if the king was thinking she wasn't worthy of marrying his heir.

"By that I only mean that if Erelinde, should she become queen, needed to lead an army it is only because the rest of us have already died. The only way she'd have to face danger is if we were Waiting." Thorin waved a hand between he and Dwalin, while meaning the rest of the Company and indeed even the rest of the dwarrow in the mountain. "If Erelinde needed to step on a battlefield, she'd be the last surviving Dwarf here."

"I'm trying to train her here." Dwalin bit out each word carefully, glaring at his leader. Clearly he thought the king's words were undermining the lesson he was trying to impart.

Thorin grimaced. "More important to train her to look for less physical attacks. Political ones." He turned his frown at the young dam in question. "I hear that the Blacklock lass has been taunting you."

Erelinde drew up proudly. "I can handle her."

Three identical snorts were the only response. The blonde looked cross as her distressed regard flew from one person to the next. "I can! I haven't reacted to her or let her get me to lose my temper."

Thorin stared at the dwarrowdam and nodded slowly. "That's one way to play it." His voice left little to doubt that he did not agree with her choice of response. That he found her lacking. His judgement stung her heavily.

Erelinde lifted the sheathed dagger she was still holding. "It's not like I could draw her blood over a few snide comments. So she wanted Fili to court her? I'm sure she wasn't the first, nor will she be the last."

"She kissed him." Dwalin pointed out almost cruelly.

"Exactly." Erelinde rounded on him, glaring at him in a way that discounted how much stronger he was than she. Little fear in her, which he approved of, but no skills to back up her bravado. That he did not approve of. "He did not kiss her, she surprised him."

"And you haven't learned enough of battle tactics in a week spent with me to know it takes more than surprise to slip beneath someone's defenses unless they were amenable?"

Thorin's face stilled while Dis sucked in a shocked breath. Erelinde stopped breathing.

"Enough for today." Dis called out, clapping her hands rather sharply even with the thick gloves on to protect her from the cold weather.

Thorin looked around for something to distract. "Where is Glorfindel? I thought he was training her with you, Dwalin."

"Holding the dwarfling. Again. Elf is besotted." The bald warrior groused.

"Fili wouldn't …."

"Of course not." Dis took pity on the lass, moving forward and taking her arm. "Let's move inside."

Dwalin made a hand gesture and shook his head.

"Don't." Thorin commanded.

"Lad didn't kiss her, nor seek her out, granted." Dwalin spoke with utter coldness that rivalled the weather for frigidity. "But he could have stopped her from taking advantage. Reacted stronger, put her off in no uncertain terms. Slapped down her advances in any number of ways. He didn't."

"Dwalin." Dis' voice was a warning and a plea to stop.

"Draw your dagger. Take aim. Learn to defend yourself and what is yours. Make no mistake, she will be the first, but you were right …she won't be the last. Unless you let her take him."

Erelinde drew forth the blade and turned, aiming for the target and let loose. The blade bounced off the post next to the target and dropped harmlessly to the snow. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment.

Dwalin grunted unhappily.

Thorin groaned and shook his head. "I sent Fili off to the rookery with messages to go out." He announced. When Erelinde merely blinked at him the king scowled. "That was meant as a hint. Go get him and keep Risil Blackstock from him."

"I don't fear her." The blonde's words would have been more thrilling if her voice hadn't been nearly whisper soft and almost broken.

Dis sighed and patted the blonde's arm. "He means get out of here, he wants a private discussion with Dwalin and doesn't want you to overhear."

Erelinde nodded, took two steps and stopped. She glanced over at Dwalin speculatively. "If he's going to bleed at all, I'd rather stay and watch."

Thorin grinned suddenly and nodded at the blonde. "Go. But that last bit wasn't bad at all. If he bleeds I'll make sure you hear about it in detail."

Erelinde nodded, walking away with as much pride as she could muster.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili rolled the empty thread bobbin back and forth on the desk, having pulled it out the moment the doors of Thranduil's study had closed.

A dagger flew and embedded itself in the fine wood of the table, making the bobbin fly across the room. Kili eyed the now scarred table with a jaundiced eye. "That's overkill."

"We try something new today." Thranduil picked at a single thread on the back cushion of his chair, which he was standing behind. With two long and elegant fingers he snapped the delicate thread and tossed it aside.

"What?" Kili started to ask more when suddenly his senses were assaulted and he groaned, nauseated. His stomach churned heavily and he coughed, sputtered, and held out his hands as if to stop an assault. Pressure. Against his mind. Pushing, pushing, bombarding his mental defenses as he whimpered.

The attack let up, just enough for words to form in Kili's mind. Words that scratched and bit at him painfully as he struggled to the keep the other mind out.

"If you won't learn to send, at least learn to defend yourself. Make me stop."

Kili cried out as the pressure redoubled against him.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Ori shuffled through the rolled message containers with a heavy heart, shoving them into his bag as he collected them from the dwarrow in charge of the rookery. The sounds of bird call and ruffling feathers shouldn't have been so loud, he frowned. How many of these messages were from the myriad crafting guilds? How bad would this sink Thorin's temper today?

With all the noise and shifting movements of the birds, it took Ori a moment to realize that someone was standing right in front of him. He looked up and his face turning ruddy as he shook his head. "I'm not supposed to be talking to you."

Risil blinked her bright brown eyes at him. It was a becoming sight, made more so by the pleasure he thought he read in her gaze. "Ori!"

"Not talking to you." Ori murmured, embarrassed that his two brothers had basically ganged up on him to drive this point home. As if he couldn't handle himself. He rolled his shoulders and looked up at the Blacklock heiress. He could handle himself. "Are you seeking me?"

Risil's softly pink lips quirked up as if inviting him to share in her humor as she gave a quick look at the thick-chested dwarrow tending the birds. She leaned in and whispered. "Why does his beard look like a bird's nest?"

Ori coughed, trying not to laugh. He shook his head at her, denying that he'd be saying anything mean about the other dwarf. Though, if he had to describe the male's beard, nest-like did seem rather appropriate. "What are you seeking, Lady Risil?"

"You."

Ori held his breath for two counts, then shook his head. He felt flattered, and reluctantly suspicious. He stared at her until she smiled wider.

"You are the one collecting the messages from outside." She pointed toward his bag.

Yes. Of course. Ori pinked slightly and shook his head. "They go to the king first."

"Well. To you first, then you decide in what priority they go to King Thorin." Risil's voice was like smooth, rich honey. "It's a tremendous responsibility."

Ori couldn't help but puffing up a bit at the admiration in her tone, even if the dim voice of Nori was in the back of his head sounding warning bells about deadly gas in the mines. Risil was sneaky, no doubt, but hardly as bad as Nori and Dori seemed to think, surely.

"And yet they don't trust you enough to allow you to talk to me?" Her voice sounded so innocent, so hurt. Ori flushed at the implication that he'd been ordered about. Well. "Not ordered, not exactly."

"Any messages for me?" Risil asked, one of her hands going to her throat as her eyes dipped downwards almost submissively. "From home?" Fear, trembling hope. The young dwarrow's heart nearly split at the heaviness of his need to offer assistance.

Ori shook his head, reluctantly. "I don't think so. But I really shouldn't say though I saw no personal tags on the containers." Very real and heartfelt worry leapt behind the dam's pretty gaze, nearly making Ori weep for her.

"So, no messages from the Blacklock lands?"

Ori blinked, suddenly feeling in deeper waters. This was a trickier question. He licked his lips and shrugged awkwardly. "I haven't gone through them yet." He told her truthfully, hoping she wouldn't press for more.

"The message containers would have our colors and sigil." She pointed out, acting helpful, and hopeful. "I just need to know if there is word, I'm not asking for anything untoward. You would be my hero if you could give me any measure of comfort."

Ori felt torn. The dwarrowdam was not asking about things pertaining to kingdom politics, but word from home. But, oh but! His job was to sort the messages for the King, and not to be a fount of information to others. Especially not for someone from another clan. Yet. She was obviously only seeking word about her brother and uncle. Would it cause harm to give her something so small?

Ori looked around almost desperately. His gaze caught that of the dwarrow in charge of the birds and he was frowning. At him. Ori thinned his lips and shook his head, turning back toward Risil. "I will sort through them as soon as possible, and I will let you know if there is any word. Duty, you understand." He did not mention that he'd be running this conversation by Thorin first. After the debacle with the guilds, he wasn't taking any chances.

"But you have them right there." Risil wrinkled her nose adorably, while frowning lightly with disappointment. Ori felt like a heel as he shook his head more emphatically. "You don't have to open them, just let me know if a message arrived at all." Her voice did some strange little thing that made him think she might be on the verge of tears.

"Problem?"

Risil and Ori both turned to find Fili standing in the doorway, holding hands with a certain pretty blonde.

Ori stammered and tried to explain to Fili what was going on, while the two dwarrowdams stared at each other. Risil's chin rose as her back stiffened.

Fili shook his head and handed a bag of messages to the dwarrow in charge of the rookery. "Send these out. Priority ones are marked. Ori. You have a job to do, I suggest you do it."

"Wait."

Everyone turned at the softly spoken word. Erelinde lifted eyes up to Fili. "What would it hurt to let her know if there are messages coming from her home? I would be on the edge of a sword while waiting for word about my family."

"The information is Longbeard and kingdom business, not Blacklock." Fili said with more harshness than he'd thought. His anger at the foreign dwarrowdam went deep after the hurt she'd foisted onto him, and Erelinde. He'd been thrilled to find her seeking his company outside, and for a week since he arrived home things had been going along swimmingly. Still. He'd been hearing how Risil had been pushing and pricking at Erelinde during that time as well. Fili had offered her several opportunities to complain, but Erelinde never brought it up, not to him. And he was uncomfortable bringing the incidents up to her as well.

Sky-blue eyes blinked, drawing back slightly in the face of Fili's temper.

Fili's voice softened as he forced himself to lose the tension suddenly in his shoulders. "You should be the last one to defend her."

"I did nothing wrong approaching the prince." Risil denied with a hand movement. "You were wearing no beads, nor did you run from me."

"I told you at the time my heart belonged back here." Fili's hand tightened about Erelinde's palm.

The sweet blonde dwarrowdam stiffened and considered just backing off. She owed nothing to Risil Blackstock. And the other dam had been needling her in small, hurtful ways all week. That didn't even take into consideration the hateful thoughts that Dwalin had planted into her mind. Still. Erelinde felt she could see pain behind the pride in the other dam. "I am not suggesting any breach in privacy, just ….allay her feelings for the moment. If there are messages perhaps they can be given faster to the King and news can be received more timely. Not break any rules, but if there is something you can prioritize it, right?"

Fili stared at the dam wearing two of his beads. He couldn't believe she was speaking up for her rival. No, not a rival, not technically. Erelinde was so sweet and kind, perhaps too much so for a potential queen. Sky-blue eyes blinked up hopefully at him and Fili couldn't bear not to give in, not on something so simple. He made a gesture toward Ori, who looked hesitant. The blond prince turned his gaze on his cousin who backed down at the unspoken demand. He held open the message pouch. The two looked through the message containers, but drew none out for Risil's gaze.

Ori looked up apologetically and silently shook his head at the Blacklock. Her breath caught tellingly, even if her pride diminished not at all. Dark eyes closed as she steadied herself. "I won't thank you." The words were directed to the blonde dwarrowdam and not toward either of the males. She knew who had gotten her the information.

Erelinde nodded sadly, having expected nothing. "I did such not for you specifically, but would have done the same for any."

"I also won't accept your pity." Risil spit out the words, her face blushing hotly. "I asked for nothing that isn't mine by right."

The two dams stared at each other for a long moment before Risil suddenly turned a winning smile onto Fili. "It's been a week since the bead exchange. Bored yet?" With that parting shot, weak though she felt it was, she spun and swept from the room. The dwarrows watched her go, much like a predator leaving behind prey that is too protected at the moment. Circling, looking for weaknesses, but not weak, never that.

Fili caught his betrothed's attention by lightly tapping Erelinde's chin as he shook his head. "Don't bother. We don't need to focus on her. I love that you're kind hearted, but don't waste your efforts in that direction. She is not important."

Sky-blue eyes met his and he started to smile, until she spoke. "Please, if a message from the Blacklock clan arrives, can you arrange for Risil to be notified?"

Fili shook his head, not in denial of the request, but in wonder at what was being asked. "All messages go through Thorin's office."

"And it will, but cannot Risil be notified so that she can be given any information as soon as the king wills it?"

"What if the king doesn't will it?" Ori interrupted brashly.

Pretty blue eyes blinked suddenly looking unsure. "Why would he not?"

Fili didn't answer, not wanting to explain the hidden, dark alleys of politics when it might not even be necessary. Nothing, not even a simple message of well-being, was without consequence, weight, or possibilities. News wasn't always good, and sharing wasn't always best. But Erelinde's look of trust, aimed at him, was biting deep. He turned to the rookery dwarrow. "If any message comes from the Blacklocks, treat it with priority and call for a messenger rather than waiting for the normal collection times. Thorin will direct how it will be handled from there."

Ori and the other dwarrow both bobbed their heads in agreement, with the younger dwarf running off to attend his duties.

Fili turned to Erelinde, framing her face with his hands. "That's the best I can offer."

The pretty blonde frowned at him. "It's all political, isn't it? It seems very unkind."

"The Blacklocks rode against us, love. They wanted the throne. In the past we have been on prickly terms, though not outright hostility. They would have been glad at finding me and Thorin in a tomb."

Erelinde's eyes widened at the horrid thought. Fili leaned in closer, keeping their foreheads from touching, but only barely. "Don't let Risil get too close to you."

"You let her kiss you."

Erelinde would have taken back the words the moment they'd left her mouth if she could have. Fili leaned back, his sapphire-eyed gaze wide and taken aback. "We've settled this. I thought you believed me."

Erelinde nodded rather shakily. "I did, I do. You didn't kiss her, I know."

Fili's nerves jangled as he jerked backwards a bit mentally. "Part of you still blames me?"

The dwarrowdam immediately shook her head. "I wear your beads."

Sapphire-colored eyes found the beads in question, deep satisfaction filling him. Still. Had there been hesitancy in her voice just now? "Erelinde?"

The sweet dam peeked over his shoulder at the other dwarf in the room and Fili took the cue. He grabbed her arm and pulled her from the rookery, leaving behind the smells and noises of all the birds. He didn't stop until they were outside. Glancing around, they were alone enough, but there were signs of industry all about them. Repair work and crews moving back and forth with supplies. The sound of tools being applied with great diligence.

Erelinde stopped when he did, her hand in his. She shook her head as he tugged on her arm. "We don't need privacy. I wear your beads and I have faith in your words."

"It doesn't feel like it." He snapped. "You're angry with me."

"I wasn't." The words and tone were a warning, he was starting to cross a line, and it was hurtful. In the back of her mind was Dwalin's words. Fili was a wonderful warrior, a strong dwarrow. If he'd not been willing, Risil wouldn't have gotten underneath his defenses. Maybe.

Fili nearly melted at the rather lost look in her eyes, he moaned and ran an agitated hand over his face and beard. He grabbed her arm again and pulled her back into the rookery. "Get out." He barked at the dwarf inside. Without another word spoken, the two found themselves alone. With dozens of birds.

"Fili?"

"I didn't kiss her. She kissed me, as a thank you only. Or that was my part of it."

"Did you like it?" Erelinde blinked up at him, blushing hotly as she looked away again. "Never mind, I don't want to know."

Fili suddenly leaned in and kissed the side of her cheek, close to her mouth but not really. No real feelings or anything. Erelinde's head turned and she stared up at him. "That was her kiss. This is yours." His eyes darkened and he leaned close. She backed up. He kept coming, something intense in his gaze that had her breath hitching and her heartrate picking up speed.

"You've made your point." She said, nearly breathless.

"Not hardly."

Erelinde's back hit one of the cages and she could move no further in that direction. She looked left and right, but her jumpy nerves let her know she'd get no further than perhaps a step, maybe two. She heard him growl and it did funny things to her insides.

Fili's hands moved outward, stretching to either side of the cage holding some of the ravens. His head moved closer and closer to her, heat building up between them and his gaze intense enough to melt metal.

Determined lips touched hers softly, but he did not let her retreat by turning her head, following her moves perfectly. "This is yours. Alone." He said against her mouth, his breath tickling hers as her eyes drifted half-way closed. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. "No one else will ever know, or have, be privy to, or take from me what I feel for you."

She moaned, her knees buckling slightly as she turned her head sharply to the side, afraid she might melt. Fili didn't follow her lips this time, but before disappointment could register his teeth nipped at the exposed column of her neck.

Exposed? Erelinde didn't have time to wonder at how or when her scarf had loosened. Thought was gone as she bit her lower lip and reached for him, not to push away. Fili nuzzled her neck and collarbone, nipping and nibbling and …was that his tongue on her skin? His beard tickled and shooting heat ran through her veins it seemed like. He laughed, chuckled really, dark and hot and fluid and achy.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tears ran freely from his eyes as Kili pulled at his hair trying to ease the pressure. The pain had lessened as he'd slammed shut his mental barriers, but it was still there.

"You. Love. This." Kili bit out the words, breathing harshly between each one out of necessity and sheer exertion.

 _"I don't deny."_ The words exploded in Kili's mind, behind his barriers with a thudding weight that had him crying out.

Kili couldn't see the elvish king, blinded as he was from the tears, the pain and the amount of effort. He slid out of his chair onto the hard floor, banging the back of his skull against the floor deliberately in an effort to spring something loose. His thoughts cleared for a second, though he wasn't sure if it was due to Thranduil being surprised, or because of the move itself.

"Water?"

Panting, Kili relaxed slowly, not trusting the sudden reprieve. He knew if he opened his eyes he'd be staring at the ceiling, but his eyelids were far too heavy to lift right now.

"Is that a no?" Thranduil asked in a most calm and collected manner that set Kili's teeth on edge. He muttered a dark curse. "Ah. A definite no then."

With that, the pressure returned with a vengeance and Kili nearly curled into a protective ball on the floor.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin glared at Ori as the young dwarrow stood before him and his sister, trying to explain what had been said and done this morning. The king cut his eyes to the side, finding Dwalin looking equally unhappy, his arms crossed over his thickly muscled chest.

"I thought Nori couldn't have been clearer. Stay away from the Blacklock dwarrowdam." Dwalin said coldly.

Dis watched, but didn't interfere. A movement caught her eye and her head turned. She stiffened slightly, recognizing the far too tall form of a certain golden-haired elf. Glorfindel. It didn't sit well with her that both Thorin and Dwalin spoke of this one without reservation or hesitation. Though, there was nothing she could argue about. All that she had heard had been to the warrior's good, except for riding in here ready to take her son away. Dis sniffed haughtily.

The elf saw them and turned in their general direction. Dis grinned toothily at him before the others could offer greeting. "Finally returned that infant to her mother?" Her voice may have aimed for neutral, but like Erelinde, it was poor aim.

Glorfindel ignored the resentment in Dis' tone. "The babe was looking for such that I am ill equipped to handle." At her quick look he smiled. "Food. I left the field of battle, ceding to the dwarfling's mother. Defeated and alone."

Thorin chuckled outright while Dwalin flicked his mouth in what might pass for amusement, if you knew him well enough.

"She let you hold the baby again, that's a grand gesture, actually." Ori piped up, obviously not reading the elf's caustic humor correctly. "It's an honor beyond telling."

Having known that already, Glorfindel merely bowed his head slightly at the young dwarrow. Truthfully, he'd been thrilled to hold Sila again, even if he'd had to drop extremely broad hints to the mother and appearing comically pleading. She'd finally laughed and made the offer he'd been hoping for.

"Fool." Dwalin commented, having seen some of the elf's performance before heading out with Erelinde earlier. He wasn't sure how he felt about elves getting so close to dwarflings. It went against all he'd known his entire life, but he could not reconcile his thoughts and feelings about elves in general with the tall, golden, buffoon who could wield sword and dagger with such ease.

"More correspondence from crafting guilds?" Glorfindel pointed toward the messenger bag Ori was carrying. The youngster flushed scarlet and mumbled something so low even elvish ears couldn't catch it.

Thorin scowled. "I didn't know there were so many curse words that could be written in runes."

Dis gave a half-hearted smile for her brother's discomfort.

"I could write them back, explaining it was all my fault." Ori offered. Again.

And again Thorin refused, frowning even more sharply. "No, it must come from me. As for Fili's …er, request ….bring me any message from the Blacklocks as soon as it arrives. I alone will make the decision on what to tell Risil, and when."

Ori wanted to argue, that was plain in his expression, but he dropped his gaze obediently.

Dwalin grunted in approval, though still irritated.

A yelp came from somewhere. Everyone looked around immediately, more squeals followed, turning them each toward the rookery that Ori had recently left. The dwarrow in charge of the birds rushed inside, followed by the others several steps behind.

Thorin nearly crashed into the back of the dwarrow who'd stopped in the doorway. Dwalin did crash into him from behind, pushing them both inside. Glorfindel stood behind them, seeing perfectly without having to look around someone else's bulk. Dis pushed him rudely, having brought up the rear. The elf turned sideways, giving her access as she shoved Dwalin next and moved forward to enter the room.

Everyone stared at the amusing picture. Fili was red-faced and cursing, shaking his hand as if something had bit him. Erelinde was tugging on her nashatal braid, which was being held captive by a raven in a large cage.

The dwarrow in charge of the rookery coughed, humor lining his voice as he tried to be stoic. "Birds, they be liking the shiny things."

"Like silver beads." Glorfindel was much better at keeping his tone neutral, but even Dis could see that his eyes were shining with suppressed laughter.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel's hand shook as she reached to pour herself a cup of wine, much earlier than she ever drank such. Balin reached out instinctively, putting his hand on her arm.

She flinched, then shot him a look of apology. He didn't need it, truth was he felt as shaky as she obviously did.

Tilion's Heir. What was it, what did it mean? Was it Kili? How did Mordor fit in? It made much more sense now that the prince had been so adamant about leaving Erebor. He wasn't just a target for being the scion of so many important bloodlines, but now …he was at the crux of prophecy. Maybe.

"Lass? It's a lot, no one would blame you …."

"Balin? Do you need more assistance with your wardrobe? I want to make sure you have all you need, for once we start travelling it will be harder to obtain."

Balin stilled, his eyes melting with feelings as he stared at the beautiful she-elf. He reached out and twitched the fall of her hair so the three nashatal beads hung straighter. "I couldn't be more proud of you if you were my own."

"That would have made much easier." She said wryly.

"Or not. It's all as it should be, now isn't it?" Balin countered. "If you were Dwarven much of this would have been written differently by fate. It was as an elf we met ye, and as an elf that you saved his life. You wouldn't be you without being an elf. No. I think all has worked out most well." He paused and took a steadying breath. "Between you two, that is."

Not with Mordor, he meant. Tauriel nodded, hearing the unspoken well enough. She looked toward the closed door where the twins had retreated after sharing their news. She didn't like to see them at odds, even if was running cold rather than hot between the two brothers.

"They'll be fine. Brothers." Balin sighed and nodded. "I know about brothers."

Tauriel nodded, reaching again for the wine when something crashed into her mind making her call out in sudden pain and shock.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Dis touched Erelinde's arm, making the dwarrowdam jump a bit, not that anyone could blame her. The mother stilled as she spied something amiss, then she tutted her tongue. "No blood?"

"No." Erelinde shook her head, flushing deeply with embarrassment.

Dwalin and Thorin walked over to Fili, grinning like mad fools. "Yes. I'm bleeding." He shook his hand, though it was but a few drops.

"Bird bite. Nasty business." Dwalin smirked.

Thorin outright laughed, looking more at ease than he had since arriving in Erebor. "Ravens? Fili? Really?"

"Didn't expect them to bite." Fili looked bloody murder at the birds, who seemed supremely unaffected. One cawed at him. Impossible as it was, the sound seemed mocking.

"They don't. Birds don't bite, actually. They peck." The rookery dwarrow chuckled and shrugged. "Can and do draw blood, but it's not really a bite."

"Cold in here." Glorfindel said, reaching out and tweaking Erelinde's scarf back into place nonchalantly. "You might want to go inside though, warm up. Refresh yourself."

Dis frowned, not wanting to speak with the elf, or agree with him. Though that just seemed petty at the moment. She forced herself to speak. "He's right."

Glorfindel slid a look in Dis' direction, but made no comment. She sniffed and lifted her nose in the air. He smiled lazily.

Dis spoke as she tugged on Erelinde's arm. "Come inside, I'll go with you. You'll want to go to your room for a bit of a lie down."

"No, no." The pretty blonde shook her head. "It's not a problem. I've got work to do this afternoon. I don't need a rest."

"How about a scarf?" The elf asked with pursed lips.

"I have a scarf." Erelinde flicked the trailing tail of the clothing item in question.

"One for inside, to match your dress. Pretty." Glorfindel drew back, inspecting her.

Erelinde watched him, completely lost. What was he going on about? The dress she was wearing was serviceable at best. Something to work in today, that was all.

"Come." Dis tugged again. Erelinde looked at her suspiciously. "Trust me."

"I do." The younger dam hurried to answer, though still looking confused. Perhaps Dis just wanted to get her away from Fili.

As if sensing this, the young swain turned with a frown. "I'll walk her inside."

"You've done plenty." Dis said a bit waspishly, easing the sting with a fond smile. "You've got work to do as well, I'm guessing."

Fili grumbled but didn't buck his mother, or push Thorin aside as his uncle basically blocked him in. Once the two females were gone he crossed his arms and glared at Thorin and Dwalin equally.

Glorfindel smiled beatifically. "What will poor Erelinde say when she sees that?" He paused thoughtfully. "She does own a mirror, doesn't she?"

"Not sure if one is in her room, but Dis will take care of it." Dwalin remarked.

"Oh no." Thorin contradicted his cousin, crossing his arms as he looked mildly stern. "Dis will see NOTHING and call attention to NOTHING. If she did see anything it would demand Fili and his betrothed be chaperoned from here on in until he gained the third bead."

"Ah." Glorfindel nodded, trying to wend his thoughts through the intricacies of dwarven courtship.

"See what?" Fili sounded annoyed as a disturbed bee's nest.

Glorfindel looked up at the ceiling, whistling. "This building isn't that secure."

"Not the usual rookery, it's temporary while the other is being rebuilt. It was not salvageable." Thorin said, ignoring his sister-son's grim look.

"That would be nice." The elf continued.

Fili said something extremely foul.

Thorin waved at Glorfindel and Dwalin as he turned to take his leave. "I can see nothing just as well as Dis. As his monarch and head of the family and all."

Fili started to protest up until Glorfindel's hand came down on his shoulder, and Dwalin's foot …his good one …stepped heavily onto his own. He looked back and forth between them until Thorin had taken his leave.

The elf and dwarf looked at one another, ignoring Fili's tumbling questions until the younger dwarrow fell silent at last.

Dwalin pointed at the elf. "You."

"No, you first, I insist."

"You know more about this kind of thing." Dwalin went for sounding reasonable.

"You know more about Dwarven customs." Glorfindel countered.

"Lad …certain actions …leave marks." Dwalin began slowly.

"Telling marks. Marks that let everyone who see a certain person know exactly what you've been up to." Glorfindel smiled.

Dwalin grunted.

Fili cursed and shrugged, clearly not understanding.

Dwalin sighed heavily. "I don't know which one of you is worse, teaching her blades or you about …"

"Everything else." Glorfindel supplied.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The guards didn't know what to do. Those rushing them were honored guests, and one was their former captain. "Halt!" One yelled, but it still sounded almost apologetic somehow.

Thranduil opened the door behind them, making the moment moot, to the guards immense relief. He smiled at the newcomers, amused and arrogant. "Managed to call you did he? Impressive."

"Kuilaith?" Elladan rushed inside, paling as he saw his son on the floor. The brunet was panting and breathing as heavily as if he'd run for several miles in full Dwarvish gear, though three feet of packed snow. Pain lined his face as well as sweat and exhaustion. "Kuilaith?"

"He managed a call for help. It's progress." Thranduil called for more wine with an elegant wave of his hand. "At this rate, he'll either die at my hand or by winter's end be able to come to the level of a ten year old elfling."

Kili groaned from where he was, gasping as Tauriel knelt at his side in utter concern and worry.

"He doesn't deserve her." Thranduil spoke in a harshly cutting, and quite bored tone. He took one step forward and then was thrown off his feet, slamming across the hallway several dozen feet away.

Everyone turned to stare at Kili as a bright glow faded into nothingness. Dark eyes rolled into the back of his head as he collapsed, caught by Tauriel in her arms as she called his name over and over again.


	72. In which weapons are readied

Balin knelt beside Tauriel as the she-elf pushed Kili's hair out of his face. She was calling the prince's name, almost like a chant, or a prayer. Her voice broke slightly and the dwarf was alarmed to see her tears fall on Kili's unresponsive face.

Reaching for Kili's arm to check his pulse made the she-elf spin her head and pin Balin with a murderous look, complete with bared teeth. Sharply brilliant green eyes met his own and for a moment he wasn't sure that Tauriel even recognized him. Then it was gone, as if never existing. "He breathes." She said, a clear apology in her voice.

This time Balin was able to take Kili's wrist, relieved to feel the heartbeat though it was rather fast. He knew she loved him, but it still took him aback whenever faced with the depth of their feelings for one another.

A body flew by them with a grunt and a exclamation of some sort, crashing into a table that simply collapsed flat, though nothing was on it but a wine bottle. Empty. Now broken and empty as it spun on the floor.

The elvish guard climbed to his feet, shaking his head but ready to jump back into the fray. He stopped when a dagger embedded itself through the toe of his boot. Shocked eyes moved to the side and stared at Tauriel. "Captain?"

Through his worry Balin was still amused to see the guard's face blanch to a pasty white. Without a word, and unsure just how well armed the she-elf might be while technically a guest, Balin unsheathed two daggers and put them down next to Kili's still form.

Although Tauriel's eyes had never left the guard watching her, her hand moved slightly to the right and palmed the weapons without acknowledgement. Balin pulled Kili closer to himself, wrapping an arm about the lad's head and shoulders and calling to him. The red-haired lass let him, as she stood with devastating slowness, every inch a lethal warrior.

Not that Balin didn't want to take a piece or two off of the guards, or even the king, he was without heavy weapons and there was the prince to consider. "Kili? Lad? Kili?"

"Captain?" The guard called to Tauriel once more, concern in his expression and voice. A plea to understand and to stand down. It didn't work.

The second guard, this one with pale-wheat colored hair slid across the grand floor until the far wall stopped his momentum with a resounding thump.

"Keep them back." Barked Elrohir, long daggers in both hands as he prepared to stop anyone who dared to intervene away from the two in the center of the hall.

Thranduil sneered, wiping blood from a small cut with surprise and disdain. "You are not nearly recovered enough to take me on, Noldor."

Elladan spat to the side, ignoring any jaw pain and the bruise that would surely rise from the guard's attempts to draw him back away from their king. "I am not alone."

The sound of feet running their way made Thranduil's eyebrows both rise. "Nor am I." He tilted his head questioningly. "Will you fight your way out of my kingdom, against all and sundry, leaving in mid-winter with naught but what's on your back and in your hands for the sake of a mixed breed pup that should have been drowned at birth?"

Elladan roared, launching himself at the elven monarch. Thranduil landed hard, his breath whooshing out of his lungs in a great rush. He moved fast, but the enraged father wasn't exactly slow despite not being at his best.

A guard that Tauriel recognized easily rounded the corner and slid to a halt, shock on his face as he drew his bow and notched an arrow. But finding an opening was difficult, so quick were the combatants. The sound of flesh and bone connecting made him wince. That wince cost him his weapons as that distraction gave her an opening. He went down hard due to Tauriel's boots in his face, both of them.

The she-elf landed lightly, caught the bow with deft grace though letting the arrow fall. However, she bent and scooped it up and had it ready to fly before anyone could draw a breath.

Balin watched the first two guards take three steps forward, only to stop as Tauriel now faced them with her favorite weapon. They obviously knew her, and her abilities, as they slowly knelt when she gestured. "Captain, don't." They plead.

"I no longer hold that rank. Not here."

More arrived, mostly civilians, but several warriors. Elrohir knocked back a few, and disarmed the others, taking them by sheer surprise.

Thranduil gained his feet, shoving a now panting Elladan hard enough to make him land in a crouch. The king ran his tongue over his teeth and laughed. "Enough."

"You tortured my son!"

"Yes. Care to know why?" Thranduil asked, sounding bored. "Calm that Noldor spirit for once, yes?" He stepped forward, only to halt as Elladan rushed him. He dodged gracefully only to discover it was a feint meant to push him into Elrohir, who spun the monarch and neatly broke his nose with the hilt of his weapon.

Shouts of shock and distress rose from the elves surrounding them, but it wasn't enough to drown out the sound of Kili groaning.

The attention of those coming from Erebor narrowed as the young brunet prince began to move, not quite awake. Balin huffed out a relieved breath. "It took him much longer to come around after the attack by …"

"Don't say that name inside my walls." Thranduil shouted, drowning out Balin even though blood was dripping from beneath the hand he was holding over his face. "I will not have even the taint of his name here!"

"Did you not think we would retaliate?" Elladan shouted, kicking out at Thranduil who stepped neatly aside without being struck.

The elven king shook his head at both twins as they advanced on him. Elrohir jumped forward, but to the left, taking down an elf who had started to draw a weapon. Another elf pulled his hands up and away from his own blades as an arrow buried itself in the floor between his feet.

Tauriel had a second arrow notched before anyone could blink, having snagged the guard's quiver as well. "He knew you would retaliate. Only two guards? And not our best."

Murmurs of protest came from the guards being maligned, which quieted when Tauriel slid them an evil look.

"All the king's favorite decorations, tables, and treasures have been removed. If I don't mistake it, the table that was broken was one with a weakened leg he'd wanted repaired when last I was here. Even the wine wasn't one of his favorites." Tauriel flicked her eyes over toward her former king. Her bow dipped so it wasn't aimed at him. "You planned this."

For a moment, Thranduil simply watched his former ward until a smile began to grow with utter slowness. It was like watching a snail cross a path, Balin decided. Achingly slow, but not letting the viewer look away. The Woodland King held up a hand, and every voice fell silent. Now only Kili's groans could be heard.

"Leave us."

Immediate protest from those of the Mirkwood. Suspicion from those not.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Risil Blacklock was alone for the first time in her life.

Dwarves were not a race meant to live solitary lives, it was against all they knew and all they understood.

She stopped at the main halls, lifting her chin to every sour look thrown her way by Longbeard dwarrow. Durin's Folk. Hah. Her clan was descended from the first Fathers as well. Risil considered staying and eating alone just to spite the onlookers, but was feeling too unsettled.

Gathering a piece of bread and some cheese she turned up her nose at the rather poorly spiced soup and left, hearing murmurs behind her.

Let them gossip. Fili had nearly been hers. Risil's mouth twitched as she passed some Blacklock warriors. She handed one her food without a word and walked away, suddenly no longer hungry.

She didn't know the dwarrow. Oh, she knew his name and his lineage at least three generations back, but that didn't mean she knew him. Too low ranked. They'd never spoken until the attack that had left them seeking shelter in a Human settlement. Now? Of all the survivors, he was probably the one she knew the best. Which was not at all.

Risil frowned as she slowed before the corridor that would lead to her guest room. Right now she couldn't take it. More seclusion. She turned to the left instead, not even caring where it lead. Oh. Healing halls. Right.

"Lady? Are you injured?"

"No." Risil said more sharply than she'd intended by the defensive look in the dwarrow's eye. She recognized him. Yes. Silly hat and silly mustache and silly grin. Bofur. Rich though. A large portion of Erebor's treasury belonged to him, though his lineage was nothing special. "Are you?" She softened her voice a bit.

"Nay, lass, I'm well."

Lass. So informal, almost dismissive. Himlis would have been angered. But her brother wasn't here. The thought nearly sucked the breath out of her. She turned so that Bofur couldn't read her expression. "I came to visit our injured." She said, making it up on the spot, though it wouldn't be a bad thing to do. The Blacklock warriors had fought to keep her safe and bring her out of danger, many had died. Yes. She should visit and it was shameful to her that she hadn't done so already.

Bofur bobbed his head and helpfully pointed out where the Blacklock warriors were being bunked. It was surprising that they were separated by injury type and severity, rather than lineage. Risil had noted that King Thorin was keeping the able-bodied Blacklocks from gathering together in large groups as a defensive measure. Sensible. Not here in the healing halls though.

"Lady Risil." The tone was smooth and respectful, but the dwarrowdam stiffened at the accent and inflection. Elf. She looked up, and up, at the elf healer and could not recall his name. Had she ever learned it? Dwalin, that great lumbering oaf, had escorted her and her brother here on their initial 'tour' of Erebor but had said not a word. "Nuluin." The elf placed a hand over his heart and bowed.

Elves. Risil stared. Glorfindel was one thing, always about with Dwalin and the king. But all her life she'd been taught to distrust all things elven. Well, not all things, but she was given no leave to interact with them. Dwarrowdams were treasured in Khazad society, and protected. "Pleased." She said a bit hollowly. "I came to visit if I may." Her words were perfunctory, more a demand than a question of seeking permission.

Nuluin lifted one arm and graciously invited her to move forward. That would put the elf at her back. Risil felt uncomfortable and unsure, jumpy. Still, she'd started this. The dam moved forward into the first room, then smiled with real relief. "Kerchik!"

The older dwarrow with salt-and-pepper gray in his beard turned his head toward her and then smiled widely with real pleasure, though it was clouded by pain as he moved to sit up.

"Don't." Risil moved closer and even thanked the elf, Nuluin, as the healer brought her a chair. She was too relieved to see the seasoned warrior still breathing to worry about the elf. On the journey from the Human settlement it had been a foregone conclusion that this warrior's injuries were too severe. They'd expected him to Wait with every breath.

"Little nightingale." Kerchik gave a nod of approval. He was a distant cousin to an uncle through marriage. So tenuous a connection that not even genealogy crazed dwarven scholars would have made a fuss. But that didn't consider that the uncle was a favorite to Risil and her brother or that he'd doted on them as dwarflings and that Kerchik too had been a frequent visitor around their home. They'd not been close since her childhood, but still …

"I feared you Waited." Risil blinked back tears, realizing to her great shame that she'd shied away from checking on him so she'd not have to face his passing. "I'm horrid."

A roughened hand caught hers as he shook off her self-recrimination. "Nay. Nay, lass. I'm just glad we were able to get you safe away." There was a long pause between them that hung heavier that ripe fruit on a weak branch. Himlis.

"I've heard nothing." She whispered.

Kerchik nodded, flicking his hazel eyes around the room as if checking to see if they could speak freely. Risil shook her head. She didn't trust. "No message has been brought ….to me."

"Could it be held up?" Meaning, in the offices and hands of the Longbeard rulers of Erebor.

Risil shrugged, shook her head negatively and then shrugged again. She didn't think so, but you never knew.

"I saw yer brother and uncle. Himlis is a grand sight with that great axe in his hands." A weak smile of hope and admiration.

Risil smiled when she'd rather cry, catching her breath and leaning on her training to lead. Stiffening her back she nodded, giving comfort rather than taking it. "Himlis wouldn't fall, not with so much to be done. He wouldn't dare skip out on me. Us."

"Aye. Aye." The grizzled veteran nodded, knowing this heiress from dwarfling. He knew she was selfish and prideful, but he also knew that when she loved it was deeply and without reserve. "I saw you and that prince on the journey."

"End that thought." Risil drew back, crossing her eyes almost comically. "No chance. He seeks the approval of another."

Kerchik looked appalled, and made a face to show he thought any who would reject her was daft in the head. It made her laugh, just a chuckle really, but it helped.

"Stormrune." Risil supplied the familial name of the dam currently wearing Prince Fili's beads. Two of them. She held up two fingers.

Kerchik nodded thoughtfully. "Fast work." Knowing there had been no such beads before they'd left the first time. "Though Himlis won't be disappointed." They both knew that the Blacklock leader hadn't been enamored of the idea of tying his sister to the heir.

"Uncle Gresol would be though." The dam said with a hint of wry humor.

"The other?" An oblique reference to Prince Kili.

Risil shook her head. "Not here. No one speaks of it other than to say he left to draw Mordor's eye away from Erebor."

Gray and bushy eyebrows rose over Kerchik's gaze, surprise written large there, and approval. "He take many?" How weakened were Erebor's forces now?

"Almost none to mention." Risil thinned her lips, thinking of the half-dwarven prince. It shocked her to think of any dwarrowdam marrying an elf. It was enough to almost make her feel sorry for the Lady Dis. There was nothing attractive about elves. Too thin, too pretty, too stretched out. No meat, nothing to hold to, no beards, and they just didn't look masculine to her too dwarvish eyes. Pretty to look at, but little substance. She sniffed.

"Our people?"

Risil shrugged. "Under forty from last count. Few known to me."

Kerchik grimaced in understanding. The dam was telling him that of the Blacklock survivors there were few tied close to her in utter loyalty or blood ties.

A sudden smile that was awkwardly tight. "Actually, few known to me. I fear I don't know half the names of their grandsires."

"No worries." The warrior patted her hand, grimacing slightly at the pain the movement cost him.

"Worries I have too many of …too many to count." Huffed Risil with a small grin of distaste. Then she leaned in and winked at him. "At least the Maker hasn't taken you to his Halls yet, that's one less worry." She teased.

"Lady Blacklock?"

Risil turned, finding one of the younger warriors behind her, waiting respectfully. Jekes, if she wasn't mistaken. Kerchik's hand tightened painfully on hers, drawing a surprised look from the dam.

The older warrior scowled. "I saw you fall, lad."

"Got up again." The dwarrow bowed his head, stroking his rather full brown beard wrapped up in braids. "In battle, much is won and lost between the blinking of an eye."

Kerchik seemed reluctant to let Risil's hand go at first. She blinked at him, but he gave her no sign of anything amiss.

"I don't mean to interrupt, Lady Blacklock. Just? Any word?"

Himlis. Risil shook her head, losing all her smiles, all her humor. The pain of losing her brother would be horrible. But the pain of not knowing? That was what was killing her from the inside out.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"If you want food or drink, you'll have to get it yourself." Thranduil said in that snotty tone he had at his most prideful. He dabbed at the dried blood under his nose that the healer had already set for him.

Elladan took no comfort in the dark bruising around the king's face. If he had what he wanted, Thranduil wouldn't have a face left.

"Your thoughts are dark." The elven king gestured at the last remaining guards and healers to vacate. They didn't look happy and were moving with deliberate slowness.

"Your actions are darker and lacking in honor." Elrohir said caustically. He eyed the last two guards who were nervously watching Tauriel. They gestured for her to lower the bow she still held. She didn't move at all.

Elladan smiled sourly, watching as well. "Daughter."

He said the word with great deliberation, aiming it for the most impact. Thranduil startled visibly, his swollen eyes disappearing as he blinked. The guards, well, their jaws dropped. Tauriel didn't react and Kili grinned sloppily from where he lounged back on a softly cushioned seat.

Balin looked around, not liking the tension in the air and wanting answers. "So."

Thranduil stopped him with a gesture and turned, pinning his guards with a quelling look. They both dropped their gazes but still appeared reluctant to leave their king with those that had attacked him already. "Tauriel, if I promise with a sworn oath that I mean no harm to your beloved or his family would you put down the bow and allow these two to go elsewhere?" The guards both blushed.

"No."

Every eye turned in her direction with some degree of shock.

"Tauriel, please?" Kili cleared his throat, then asked simply.

The red-head lowered the bow, looking every bit as reluctant as Thranduil's guards. Still, she didn't take the arrow from firing position.

Thranduil stared at her, hurt that she wouldn't take his word. As if he'd damaged the regard with which she'd once held him. Her trust. He said something in Sindarin too quickly for either Kili or Balin to follow.

A moment of waiting, with few breathing.

Tauriel finally let go of the arrow, smoothly putting it back into the purloined quiver and going so far as to unstring the bow itself.

Thranduil nodded at her, sorrowed, as if he might have lost something that was dear to him. The guards left them, sealing the doors and leaving them all alone with each other.

"Trusting." Elrohir's lip curled.

Thranduil said nothing. He could take the injured Elladan. Balin he discounted entirely. Elrohir would be difficult, but the youth was still impetuous and not as seasoned a warrior as he'd like to believe. Tauriel. He'd thought she'd hesitate, giving him the edge, but now he was no longer sure of that assessment. And then there was Kuilaith.

"You asked me to train him."

Elladan rolled to his feet, incensed. "You tortured him!"

"He wasn't responding to anything less."

Kili sighed and held up his hands over his head. "My fault."

Everyone stopped again, even Thranduil. He appeared surprised as Kili shrugged and settled back into his seat. "I was not … participating."

Elladan blinked, knowing his son's gift for understatement. And knowing how his son resisted even light training when it came to all thinks elven.

"I didn't know you could cause pain with your mind like that." Kili said weakly.

The twins both startled, not having considered that angle of things. They couldn't do such.

Thranduil shook his head. "I didn't. I pulled from your mind the worst pain you'd felt and pushed it front and center."

Tauriel shuddered. "The morgul shaft." She guessed.

The Woodland king looked stunned. "Morgul?"

Tauriel shook her head at him. "You didn't hear, or didn't care. Yes. A wound caused by a morgul weapon. That poison biting deep. Did you think you'd pulled forth a memory of a stubbed toe?"

Thranduil stared at her, meeting the she-elf's gaze head on. After a lengthy moment she blinked and looked away. "You grow bold."

"As suits a princess of Erebor." Balin supplied, backing the red-head completely.

"Why? Why push him that far?" Elladan asked, demanding, his Noldor blood still hot.

"Tilion's Heir." Thranduil shook his head. "You're not thinking clearly, any of you."

"And you are?" Elrohir snapped.

The king ignored him and closed his eyes, lifting his head. "The Valar. Damn them."

The twins shared a look, not sure where Thranduil was going with that comment.

"Tilion's Heir. A light, a hope, a promise. Something that protects against Mordor's shadow. Not something or someone to stand against the Deciever, not directly, no. Just, a tool. A weapon. A rallying point." Thranduil sighed heavily and for the first time looked at Kili with some true sympathy. "I thought they would be sending a warrior of old, much as they had with Glorfindel."

No one spoke as the king paced the space, no less graceful for the bruising on his face or dried blood on his robes.

"I don't trust the Valar, never have. Shouldn't have placed even a little hope on their help." Thranduil sneered. "They want evil gone from Middle Earth, but do little or nothing to help. If they'd had their way Morgoth would still rule here."

The twins both blinked at the same time, but said nothing to interrupt.

"I'm hardly anyone who could stand against Mordor, not by myself." Kili said, his voice rather thin even as Tauriel moved to put her hand lightly on his shoulder.

"It took a mortal." Thranduil nearly bit out the word. "Earendil. Not until he begged did the Valar lower themselves to help the first time."

Kili looked at his father, unsure, and obviously not familiar with the name.

Thranduil smiled weakly. "Don't know about Earendil? No. I doubt that your father and uncle have taught you about him yet. It would highlight how little the Valar care."

Elladan hissed and shook his head while Elrohir hung his head a bit.

Kili looked at Balin who sighed and nodded. He'd heard of Earendil at least. Yet he'd said nothing either. "Tell me."

"Earendil a product of a mixed marriage. Sound familiar? A Human and Elf child. Blended blood. When he travelled to Valinor to seek assistance, it was because he did so out of no selfish reasons they gave him and his family a gift. The right to choose whether to be counted as Elves or as Men. Elrond made this choice, as did his brother. So did the two of them." Thranduil waved at the sons of Elrond Peredhil. "You were given no such choice. That regard did not extend to those mixed with dwarvish blood it seems."

Kili nodded. "My blood is too mixed."

"No." Thranduil denied strongly. "The Valar don't give a damn, they choose not to give a damn."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The servant of Mordor stank.

Orcs were not clean creatures, often living in muck and mire and filth. They treated the scent of rotting flesh like perfume. Thus, for an orc to think that something stank, it was beyond what words could describe.

The robes were fairly clean, and the hands that could be seen beneath the long sleeves were over pale but not encrusted with grime. The hood hid the face, unsettling the orcs a bit, making them fidgety. What was giving off that smell was not clearly evident.

"News?"

The orc bobbed his head, carefully keeping it lowered in a submission pose straight out of the animal kingdom. He really wasn't even aware of doing it.

"The elves left for their homes. One stays they've seen."

"One of the twins of Imladris?" The elven name was treated as a pejorative.

"Golden hair." Shrugged the orc with the lump of greasy flesh on the left side of his temple. Greasy hairs grew from it in sick strands.

"No, then." The hooded servant said thoughtfully.

"Word is, the mixed-breed is gone. Hiding." The orc shook with trepidation, ducking as if a blow might come his way. When it didn't, he blinked with a hopeful leer.

"Lothlorien? Gray Havens? Imladris? Mirkwood? Gondor? Rohan?"

The orc shook his head widely for emphasis. "Our contacts say nay. Though they can't get too close." The orc cringed backwards just in case his words were unpleasing. "You said not to get too close."

"I did." The hood nodded and no blow came, making the orc relax again just a bit. "Lothlorien or Imladris would be the most obvious. Gray Havens, perhaps. Or north. They could have gone north."

The orc bobbed his head in agreement, though out of a desire to please rather than real reflection. "Isengard?"

The hood stilled, as if staring at the orc. The creature sank back down, wondering what he'd done wrong this time. The servant finally looked *away. "Don't worry about Isengard, that is taken care of. Do not think of it, do not speak of it. As far as Arda is concerned, we have no hold in Isengard, not anymore."

The orc nodded, confused. They hadn't captured the tower last he'd heard, what hold could there be? "Mirkwood?"

"Don't be a fool." The servant snapped, irritated. "It's too close. And that place is not friendly to those of Erebor, no matter what common enemy they share. No. Press forward at Gray Havens. They're not back to their home yet, make sure the brat isn't among them. And if they happen not to get back home? I wouldn't be sorrowed."

The orc bowed over and over again, backing away as he did so.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The voice was cold and threatening. The orc froze, not just falling still, but froze. The odor in the chamber was near unimaginable, rank and dark and evil somehow, if such were possible.

"There is a message on the table. Get it to Erebor without fail. Have our Human agent put it in the right hands. Then tell your generals to be ready in one month's time. We will finally take the mountain."

The orc nodded, scratching behind his ear and clearly reluctant to speak.

"WHAT?"

"We don't have many forces left, not to storm Erebor's walls. Not unlessing we get reinforced." The orc ducked again, but the reaction was worse than if he'd been struck. Mordor's servant …laughed. An oily, greasy sound that turned the stomach of even a creature like an orc. He thought he might prefer anger over this laughter.

"Not to worry. When the time comes, they'll open the doors to us. We will just walk right in."

The orc ran, grateful to get away and breathe fresh air once more. The smell of death around him was like unto a garden compared to what he'd just left. The orc whined, running in a loping manner to do the Servant's bidding, the sound of that horrid laughter still in his ears.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili blinked, uncertain. "I want to be as I am and have no problems being dwarven, not elven." Except for the red-haired beauty standing behind him. He peeked up at her and she gave him a reassuring nod, though he couldn't keep the pang of sorrow at the thought of leaving her behind, grieving, when his time came.

"So. Why did they make you Tilion's Heir?" Thranduil pointed at the brunet ruthlessly.

"I'm Elladan's son. Of Elrond's line. Galadriel."

The pleasure those words should have brought to the elf father was tempered by the concern of what Thranduil was trying to say.

"Why not let Elladan be Tilion's Heir?" The monarch asked, waving his hands about. "Elrohir. Me? Legolas? Tauriel? Any other elf here including that fool Trenien." Thranduil turned and pointed at Kili. "Your name."

"My name? Kili. You know that."

"Kuilaith." Elladan said the name on a whisper.

"That which brings joy to others. That which wraps other elves with joy. Not happiness. No, it's more. Joy." Thranduil sneered. "It's not because you're funny or light hearted or even warm and worthy of a cuddle or two. You. You bring out joy in other elves and other peoples. An embodiment."

Tauriel's touch on his shoulder grew as did her worries. "What?"

Elrohir groaned, his eyes wide as he shook his head. "Galadriel gave him that name."

Mocking laughter as Thranduil turned toward the twin sons of Elrond. "And that didn't give you greater pause?"

"She is our mother's mother." Elladan said a bit weakly. "She loves."

"And perhaps she isn't even aware of what she pronounced." The king turned and looked at Kili once more. "Kuilaith. A name of great strength and purpose. Bring joy? You're not going to perform for us, perhaps sing and dance and make us smile. No. What better joy is there than to protect our race from Sauron?"

"I thought you didn't want his name spoken here." Balin coughed, sputtering a bit as he struggled to keep up with just what was being said and implied. "So. The Golden Lady knew from the start that Kili would stand against Mordor? Hmph. Well, we all will. That one be foul to his core."

"It's more." Tauriel whispered.

"There can be no doubt that Tilion's Heir is Kuilaith. His name hints at it, and I can't say that Galadriel even knows the fullness of it." Thranduil pandered to his own pride a bit, puffing up his ego at perhaps knowing more than the Lady herself.

"We knew that." Elrohir protested weakly. His hot Noldor blood chilling off with the dose of gloomy reality.

"No. You suspected. You wanted me to train him, but I had to know. Is he really Tilion's Heir? Yes. Can he stand up to the task?"

Thranduil turned to look at each person individually, finally coming to rest …with Tauriel. He stared into her bright green and still hopeful eyes.

"No. He cannot."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Jekes, son of Rhekis, son of Makillek." The Blacklock warrior bowed.

Risil frowned. "I am aware." She partially lied, not having remembered the dwarrow's lineage beyond his own name. With so few survivors, she would have to remedy this lack.

"There has been no word on your brother, lady."

"I am aware." Risil snapped. Decision to become more involved and informed aside, she still wouldn't tolerate over familiarity.

"No. You misunderstand. There won't be. Not through Longbeard channels." Jekes leaned in closer to her. "I have some blood in common here, and I've had a word or two shared."

Risil nodded, understanding. There were multiple families that shared common lineage through more than one clan, especially after Erebor had fallen to the dragon, Smaug. The Blacklocks had taken in several leading families that had fled the Desolation.

"Please, be patient. We can't move openly as the crown doesn't want you corresponding with home."

Risil frowned, this didn't sound like Fili. King Thorin though, that was far more likely. Yet Fili was upset with her, cold lately. So upset that he'd publically rejected her. Humiliating. Everyone here thought she was trying to get him to court her. Once perhaps, but not now. Now she just wanted to mess with that pretty, pretty relationship of his. His heart, as he put it. Well, she was going to rip that sweet little Erelinde right out from beside him. The dam was too syrupy for words, kind and generous and she'd never last at playing queen.

"I'm going to try and find out what I can." Jekes promised, standing entirely too close.

Risil blinked as the doors to the healing hall opened for someone. She stiffened as she recognized Dwalin. He was limping, still unhealed. Arrow wound? Bah. "Keep me informed." She said, moving away from Jekes. It wouldn't do to be seen as consipiring.

Risil smiled sweetly at Dwalin as she passed him, heading for the door. "Something for the pain?" It was insinuation that any dwarf would recognize as a taunt.

The bald warrior blinked lazily at her and said nothing in return. Good.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili rose, straightening to his full height which did nothing but to amuse Thranduil. He stared upwards. "Train me." He demanded.

Elladan made a sound of protest.

"Even untrained I threw you." Kili boasted. "You count me as lesser because I didn't want to work with you? See what I can do when I want to grow stronger."

Thranduil smiled sadly. "You mistake my meaning. When I say you cannot I mean exactly that. But also, ONLY that."

Balin looked confused, throwing a glance at the others and finding them no more aware than himself. "Please, explain."

"It's not that Kuilaith doesn't have the strength, clearly he has channeled the Light of the Two Trees at least twice now. That's what I was trying to get at with today's 'attack'." The elvish king sighed unhappily, moving away.

No one asked him to explain further, knowing that he wasn't done yet. Thranduil moved to his seat and sank down into it with tremendous grace, and even more exhaustion. "Kuilaith. He has the name, and the mission, and the strength, and the will …."

"All I lack is the training."

"No." Thranduil sighed again. "What you lack is far more basic than that. You are mortal. Mortal. The Valar in their great wisdom gave you all the power you needed except for a body that could handle it."

Elladan and Elrohir stared, not daring to even breathe. Kili blinked, suddenly uncertain.

"I confess, I wasn't training you, not really. I was seeking the answer of who you are and what you can do." Thranduil leaned forward, peering intently at Kili with great sorrow. "If you do what the Valar are wanting, you won't live through it."

"Immortal power, but a mortal body." Balin sounded shocked.

"I can't …I won't train you. Not for this." Thranduil shook his head very slightly. "Oh, I …or your father or uncle …we could train you in the Eldar light. But the other? It would burn you from the inside out."

Kili stared, uncertain, unsure, and feeling very, very small. "Oh."

"You can't be Tilion's Heir. Not and survive."


	73. In which Risil receives a letter

"The work on the fortifications continue at pace. But we will need more stone." Fili made a face that bordered on an open scowl. "The quarries you told me about have been unworked in over a century and the Iron Hills personnel we have are not heavy on stone masonry, perhaps fifteen or so. Out of five hundred. We're set on engravers though." Fili said with some bite to his voice.

Thorin grunted. He knew well enough that Dain's people ran heavy on warriors, professional soldiers who had a secondary duty in other areas. Most Dwarves could fight on a battlefield, but some specialized in crafting and were warriors only as the need arose while some were the other way around. Even of his own Company, only Dwalin would be considered a primary warrior. The others were a healer, a merchant, a toy-maker, several miners, weaver, scribe, a counselor and a king. Then there was Nori, he gave a snort at the thought of trying to describe the ginger-bearded dwarf. As for Fili and Kili ….his sister-sons. Thorin sighed, they were closer to being warriors bred and didn't have secondary craft training other than to lead. Would that be a problem later? Something to think on.

Fili was still talking, Thorin realized, and he refocused. "There is enough rubble and collapse that very little has to be quarried, actually."

Hearing this, Thorin scowled, quite deeply. "Don't be a fool." Yes, he needed to get his nephews to train in several areas he'd neglected over the years. It wasn't enough for a king to be ignorant of the basics.

Feeling the bite of his uncle's tone, Fili nodded defensively. "Sorry. It just seems wrong to be carting out rubble and going wanting for building materials. Some of the stones are quite large and can be cut down."

"And stone is interchangeable, is it?" Thorin did look up at his nephew and heir, pinning him with a hard stare.

"No sir." The blond shook his head immediately. "I know it's not. It's just that it will take much shuffling of people and …we'd have to mount a large defensive force around the quarry, not to mention who'd be working it." When his uncle didn't respond, Fili rushed to add to his argument. "That doesn't count the defenders we'd have to leave at Erebor proper or the work crews already dealing in vital areas."

"Would you use rip-rap for our defense?" Thorin's voice was soft, almost gentle.

Fili winced, thinking of the stone used to line waterways. "Hardly. Of course we'd use the stone we cut down properly."

"Rubble is a slip-shod way of building something that needs to last generations. The heart of the stone that fell has already broken once." Thorin straightened, looking deep into the younger dwarrow's gaze. "That is not stone you want to use to build our walls. Useful in other areas, perhaps, but not in defense."

Fili flushed lightly, looking away.

Thorin nodded slowly. "It seems I have neglected a major part of your education. It's not your fault, not having lived underground properly."

"During the attack, Bofur …he said that it takes generations of connecting with the stone to build a true Dwarven home."

Hearing caution in his nephew's voice, Thorin sighed but gave a weak smile. "Truth. But while I don't intend to turn you into a miner, you need a stronger affinity for the rebuilding process. Not just stacking stones together."

"I never said that!" Fili barked, his eyes flashing a bit.

Thorin stared, not rising to meet the small display of temper. His expression did turn a bit chilly as he grunted though. "Fergard or Grimbasher, both excellent mining engineers. I want you to shadow them, learn."

Fili felt the lack of confidence down deep, to his bones. He hissed, but even his scrambling mind could find no good argument. He really didn't know enough about mining, or stone itself. Listening to the old-timers around the fires at night wouldn't suffice. "Bofur then."

Thorin rejected the suggestion quickly. "Bofur is admirable and wise, but like you he has never set foot in Erebor until now. Grimbasher was a youth here, originally apprenticed here in the mountain, I remember him. I believe Fergard was as well, though I don't recall him but in passing. I want you to attend them closely."

"What in the ten minutes in a day that I don't have other duties?" The words were muttered.

Thorin frowned sharply at his heir. "Problem?"

The blond turned his eyes away and shook his head. But the moment dragged on as it seemed his uncle was not going to let the matter go without an actual answer. "I'm just tired."

"We're all tired." Thorin said with his deep voice. "I'll tell you who isn't tired though."

"Mordor." Fili muttered under his breath.

"I was talking about your brother, who has gotten his lazy ass out of Erebor just when there's a ton of work to be done."

Blue eyes popped open wide as Fili's head shot up. His face reddened with sudden anger at the accusation.

"I miss him too."

The quietly spoken words deflated Fili just as he opened his mouth to fight back. His breath escaped in a rushed grunt before he snapped his teeth together, clenching his jaw. "It's not about Kili." He blinked as Thorin raised a single eyebrow with aching, but silent, mockery. "It's not all about Kili." He amended.

"The faster we get the work done, the faster your brother can return from his self-exile?" Thorin nodded and then pointed at his heir. "But if what we build is in haste and done poorly then what good does an early return get us? No. We do this right or Kili's exile is for naught."

Fili was nodding before his uncle finished speaking. "I know this, I do."

"Good. Now get back to work, you've just used up your ten minutes of free time."

Fili grinned at his uncle and both chuckled.

Thorin relaxed a bit, feeling better somehow. "Your mother is heading this way with my lunch. Take a half hour to eat, maybe rescue Erelinde from Dwalin for a brief reprieve." Thorin offered generously in his estimation. So it was a bit of a shock to see the flash of anger return to Fili's face and see those brilliant blue eyes turn away. "What now?"

Instead of answering, Fili turned and spied Dis coming their way. He hurried to her, taking the tray from her with a few words and bringing it back to Thorin. Dis trailed after her son, looking a bit bemused.

Recognizing a stalling tactic, Thorin waited until Fili put the tray down. His stomach was telling him that food eaten before dawn did not constitute a proper meal and it was tired of waiting. The king reached out for the still warm bread with appreciation, dipping it in his stew.

Fili bowed toward both his mother and uncle and started to leave. Thorin let him almost get away, speaking when the younger dwarrow was about to leave some undefinable line of being "in" the king's presence. "Problem with Erelinde?"

Dis' ears nearly perked up like a cat and she slid her gaze toward her eldest child.

Frozen, Fili frowned. "No problem."

Dis blinked, watching as her son and her brother stared at each other, neither bending nor giving in. "She is with Dwalin again this afternoon?" Honestly, she couldn't recall, having been busy with clearing crews.

Fili's jaw clenched and Dis was surprised she couldn't hear the sound of his teeth grinding together. "Erelinde has been working herself into the ground. Cleaning, repairing, cooking, sewing, and in any off times she might have …Dwalin is chasing her around the courtyards trying to get her to fight."

Thorin's gaze narrowed on that of his sister-son. Fili sounded almost bitter. He shook his head to indicate a lack of understanding. He glanced at Dis, but his sister looked like she wasn't clear on what was wrong either.

Fili's shoulders straightened and he shrugged. "I begged Dwalin to let her have one afternoon to concentrate on her own work. You understand, her crafting, for her mastery."

Thorin nodded, though he still didn't understand.

Fili growled. "She's off in her crafting room." It was almost an accusation.

"Yes?" Thorin watched Fili's face carefully, though he still didn't understand. "She's not grateful to you?"

"She's crafting!" Fili shouted flinging both arms up for emphasis.

Thorin blinked, but he was still in the thick of the fog. "Where else would she be?"

"With me!"

Understanding dawned slowly as Thorin drew back, his eyes narrowing with disapproval. "You thought what, that having negotiated time for Erelinde to work on her lace that she'd rather spend that time following you around while you worked …and just …watched you?"

Fili stilled, then grimaced. "Not exactly."

"Fool." It wasn't said fondly. The blond prince blushed hotly.

"You have duties." Dis said sternly, not looking amused. "Your duty as a prince comes before all else."

"Marrying a queen and starting a family is a princely duty. You taught me that." Fili snarled at his mother.

Thorin shook his head and sighed. "She wears two of your beads, you've already won. As for a wedding? You're the Crown Prince. The wedding will have to wait until defenses are done."

"Right."

"Probably have to wait until coronations are done too." Dis added.

"Yes, mam."

"Oh, and for Kili to return home of course." Thorin this time.

Fili sighed but nodded.

"Invitations will have to go out. You're the heir to the throne of Erebor. The clans will all have to be informed. Banns read. We have to adhere to the old ways on this, now that we've returned home." Dis turned to look at her brother, who frowned even as he nodded thoughtfully.

"Is that really necessary?" Fili objected weakly.

"Gifts." The king added, making Dis nod in understanding.

"Gifts?"

Thorin smiled sagely. "The wedding gifts will have to be hand crafted by the finest masters the families have. You'll have to allow the proper length of time after the banns are read and accepted by full council for the forging of appropriate gifts."

Fili groaned, his face now pale. "You're doing this on purpose. Both of you."

"Yes." Thorin said blandly. "Yes I am, though I don't speak for you mother. Now get back to work, you didn't negotiate for an afternoon off from your own duties. So I'll just have to keep you so busy that you won't miss her charms."

"Impossible."

"Her neck still bruised?" Thorin asked.

Fili growled.

Dis gave a bit of a stiff smile. "I have seen no bruising, but Erelinde is still wearing a rather high-necked shirt beneath her work clothing of late. Says the winter chill has been …getting to her."

"I haven't seen her in near a week!" Fili protested.

"And she's not rushing to stand behind you to bask in your presence while you work on finding work crews for the quarries? Shame." Not even a hint of sympathy from his mother.

"I gave you a half-hour." Thorin said after he swallowed some of the stew on his tray. "You're only wasting it now."

"It'll take him almost all of that time to get to Erelinde's crafting rooms, though most of the rubble is cleared away. Some kind person in charge of work groups made sure that the crafting areas were high on the priority list." Dis said thoughtfully.

"Oh?" Thorin asked with pretend interest, cocking his head to one side as he continued eating his lunch. They both knew who had made sure the crafting areas got prompt attention, though they hadn't disapproved actually.

Fili groaned and moved away, stopping as his uncle called out to him one last time. "Erelinde Stormrune is a crafter, if you can't handle that, look elsewhere."

"Never!"

Both Dis and Thorin watched the blond prince storm away with mixed emotions between them.

"You know." Dis began as Thorin chewed a bigger chunk of meat from his stew. "That Blacklock dwarrowdam has been lounging about your office looking for word about her family."

Thorin grunted as he chewed, uninterested.

"She's smart, ruthless, ambitious, and can use a blade well from all I've heard. Someone born to rule."

Thorin paused mid-chew, sliding his eyes up to his sister's face as if she'd suddenly gone purple with horns and spots. Rudely, he spoke with food in his mouth. "I would never let Fili marry her."

Dis smiled evilly and met her brother's gaze full on. "I meant for you. Marry her, make a new heir and start over. Fili might thank you for letting him slip off the throne."

Thorin's eyes went wide as saucers and Dis was only able to hold her mirth for a minute or two before dissolving into laughter. The king sighed and finished chewing his food. "Fool." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Fili is my heir."

Dis nodded, sobering a bit, even though she was still smiling broadly. "Yes. He is."

"Are you asking me to go gently with him?"

"Hardly." Dis denied firmly. "Press harder. Diamonds aren't created without pressure, my brother, my king. He'll stand."

"Erelinde Stormrune?" Thorin asked her, straight to the point.

Dis nodded slowly. "She'll either shine or crack. Better to know now. She's won Fili's heart, but can she be queen? I think maybe yes. Maybe. You forget, I don't remember the last queen much at all. And as your unofficial 'queen' I had none of this." She waved her hand around the chamber, but indicating the entirety of the kingdom. "My biggest fight was to get you and Gloin to mop up after yourselves when you tracked mud and snow into my kitchen. And even then, I had better luck with him than with you. Dwalin was a lost cause."

She startled a chuckle out of her brother, gratified to see him subtly relax a bit. "The dam in question went off to craft, working on her mastery, rather than mooning over your son." He pointed out.

"Fili may not see that as a good thing, but I do." Dis admitted with studied casualness. "A good queen is more than pretty arm ornamentation. And no matter what Dwalin says, it's how she comports herself in a crisis, and not how well she wields a dagger."

"You're deadly with a dagger." Thorin pointed out, having made sure of that himself as his sister was growing.

"And other weapons as well." Dis nodded with a bit of humble and a lot of pride. "But I was born to it. Erelinde has had her courting beads not even a half month yet. As you pointed out, they'll not be married any time soon, it will probably be years. Two if we rush."

Thorin nodded and finished off his stew, which had been more hot than tasty. He would be glad when Erebor could sport a kitchen with more spices than merely salt and pepper. He frowned, looking at his bowl. If there had been pepper in there, that is. He didn't bother to ask.

"My son?"

Subtle change of voice. Thorin peeked at his sister, she wouldn't meet his eye. Leaning back the king half-closed his eyes for a moment. "Nothing."

"You had messages this morning." She pointed out.

Gruffly amused and yet irritated, Thorin sighed. "You're worse than Risil Blacklock." He held up a hand to forestall her. "I had a message from King Thranduil. Words on the weather, on food storage, on the healers he sent us and even that the edges of his wood are quiet right now. Nothing exciting."

"Nothing exciting." Dis repeated the words slowly, as if they held weight upon her tongue. She watched his face carefully, but could read very little. It galled and burned her gut not to ask aloud what she desperately needed to know. But she had been born to be a queen, even if there had been no crown or kingdom. Her chin lifted and she gave a brief and sharp nod of her head. "Any other news?"

Pleased, Thorin grunted, he had more juice in his bowl and no more bread. He pushed the tray away. "We will be invaded the moment spring arrives. Representatives of all the major clans, not to mention all the Longbeard families. And then …there are the guilds."

Dis choked on his mock shudder. "Are they still out for your head?"

"They say not, but you can never tell. The jewel cutters are being tedious." Thorin went on to fill her in on how mining key metals was more important than looking for precious stone deposits, especially right now.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Do you think Thranduil's keeping information from me?"

Balin shrugged, pausing as he cut up his pheasant, the succulent aroma filling his senses admirably. He didn't answer right away, instead he turned and yielded the question to Tauriel.

The she-elf too paused, tilting her head to one side. "Possible. Though he has been more forthcoming since we had our ….encounter."

Kili sniffed, growing tired of cutting his food so neatly. He plunked the blade down onto the table and tore a leg off of his meal, making Balin wince. "Lad, this isn't Ered Luin."

"And it isn't Thranduil's fine table either." Kili yawned, looking around pointedly as they were having a private meal in his rooms. He bit into the meat with some ferocity, taking it down to the bone and then licking his fingers.

Balin watched with a hearty sigh. "You're betrothed is here, and you should act more like a prince should."

"I was more of a prince back in Ered Luin. Now I'm something else, but hardly a prince looking for a throne." Kili smiled over at Tauriel, then stilled as he saw her rather guarded expression. He looked at her more closely, noting her napkin in her lap and her precisely cut meat and vegetables. "Right, sorry. But you're marrying me, not my manners."

"I fell in love with you, manners notwithstanding." Tauriel countered. "But that doesn't mean that I didn't think you had some. Manners. Or at least a napkin."

Kili flashed her a cheeky grin as he reached for the napkin and studiously cleaned his fingers. He ruined it by leaving the napkin balled up next to his plate in an untidy wad.

Balin slid his eyes over toward the red-head. "One battle at a time." He advised.

"I see your manners, Balin, and walk back from the edge of despair, knowing it isn't unachievable." Tauriel quipped.

Balin smiled and shrugged. "Oh, I can be just as the lad is, I assure you. But I do know how to comport myself in a more genteel manner when such is called for."

"Are you saying that I don't?" Kili said, pausing deliberately to burp, followed by an incredibly wide and cheesy grin. He met their stoic stares head on. "Oh come now, that was funny."

Elf and dwarf silently watched him, then looked at each other once more.

Balin suddenly smiled at Tauriel as her eyes met his. "Don't blame me, you're the one who fell in love with him. He was born into the family, I had no say in the matter."

"Yes, though we are grateful that this is so." Elrohir said, coming through the open archway that led to the private chamber off of Kuilaith's guest room.

"We can call for another plate." Balin offered.

"Nay, all is well. I ate with my brother."

"Discussing me, no doubt." Kili's smile dimmed toward the sober side of things. "So any clue what to do about me yet?"

The young brunet's words were entirely on target, though Elrohir was loathe to admit such. "No. How are things going with …him?"

"Thranduil?" Kuilaith's smile turned upwards once more. "I can block his attempts to take thoughts from my head, or peer in at his leisure. Most of the time. Oh, he's not drowning me with pain anymore, if that was your meaning."

"Partially." The elf lord admitted with a rueful look. He looked at Kuilaith hard for a moment.

Kili saw the look and groaned, dropping his head for an instant. Then he squared his shoulders and stared into his uncle's eyes with great intensity. "Give or take?"

"Give."

"Me or you?"

"Me to you."

Gamely Kili tried to capture whatever word or message that Elrohir was trying to send to him. It helped to picture the Eldar light as a form of armor, wrapping it about himself like a present. He had this part, mostly. He reached out with his senses, as if lifting a hand covered in light, pushing at Elrohir's mind.

It took ages longer than it should, but it was as if touching softened butter. It yielded without parting, closing in around him and clouding whatever message might be there for him. He was getting closer, and stuck, all at once. Nearly red in the face, Kili pushed a bit more, not wanting to shove his way through. Words swirled, but didn't form a coherent thought. Kili shook his head, dejected.

The words vanished, and in place of that, there was an image. An image and a feeling. Not a big feeling, a very, very small one.

Kili blinked at the mental image. He grinned even as he blew out a breath, having exerted himself heavily. Calmly, coolly, he reached over and picked up the knife he'd used on the pheasant and lifted it off the table cloth. He placed the knife across the top of his plate and ignored the grease stain on the fine linen.

Elrohir's eyebrow shot up slightly and he nodded proudly.

About to pull back, Kili paused as a new image formed in his uncle's mind. One of him wrapping his arms around his nephew and grinning in victory, holding him tightly.

Kili blushed bright red, though he couldn't keep the silly grin off of his face. Elrohir's mind stilled and Kili could almost feel the 'question' though he could not sense the words. It was more a tease of curiosity than a message.

Experimentally Kili removed himself from Elohir's 'hug' and replaced the image with Balin. Then with a cheeky wink he added Tauriel and had her wrap her arms tightly about him instead.

Lost in his mental imagery, Kili grinned and changed Tauriel's clothing from leather gear to something silky and form fitting. Something with Dwarven geometric designs that gave view to more than a bit of her creamy white skin.

"Kuiliath." Elrohir clucked his tongue lightly in warning.

The image shifted so that Balin was watching by the fire and Elorhir held a glass of wine, though in reality neither had moved. But Tauriel was now wearing a fine, and thick, robe of soft fur. Very warm and very covering.

Kili groaned and shook his head, having fun as in his mental view his hand moved to the tie of Tauriel's robe. He wondered what Elrohir would do next.

The knife at his throat was a surprise, especially as Elrohir looked equally taken aback. In the real world both males turned to look at the she-elf in question.

Tauriel smiled wickedly and gave them each a baleful look. "Your imagery improves. Your ability to focus on only sending it to the intended person …does not."

Kili dropped his head back in mock despair, fairly melting against the back of his seat. Exhausted as well as disappointed.

"You do improve." Elrohir complimented him, thinking of the crispness of the images sent and received.

"Not with words." Kili moaned.

"That will come." His uncle assured him.

"Just keep the lass dressed properly, please lad." Balin added, drawing questioning looks from everyone else. "No. But I don't have to see what Kili was picturing to know WHAT he was picturing."

Elrohir's robust laughter filled the chamber as Kili grinned up at the ceiling. Tauriel blushed, but calmly cut up her pheasant to continue eating.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"There is a foulness here."

Risil Blacklock jerked upright, unaware that someone had approached. She turned red-rimmed eyes onto Jekes, son of Rhekis. She lifted her chin, nearly daring him to comment on the fact that she'd been crying. It wasn't the Dwarvish way. Crying wasn't taboo, but calling attention to something like that certainly was. Despite their emotionless reputations in Arda, Dwarves felt things deeply, they just didn't like to show it.

"Speak." She said, her voice sounding hoarse to her own ears.

"Kerchik passed in the night, though he was supposed to be recovering." Jekes pointed out, not meeting her eyes but looking around at any that might be paying them heed.

Risil's breathing burned in her lungs. She already knew about Kerchik going on to Wait. Though they'd not been close for many decades, they had been nearly family in a very distant manner. But they'd been fond when she'd been younger and it hurt losing him, especially with her brother's fate still an unknown.

"They say …" There was a lot of inference on those words. "they don't know why he took such a sudden down turn."

Risil didn't disagree, but there was something about this dwarrow that had her feeling edgy. For that alone she shook her head. "Kerchik was sorely injured in the original battle, and more so in getting us to that human settlement. He was lucky to have lived so long and the Halls gain another Hero."

At the traditional wording, Jekes blinked and backed away a bit, though not physically. "Of course."

"Is there something more you wanted?" The words came out sharper than she'd intended. Risil softened her tone. "News about Himlis?" She wasn't expecting any, having heard from a rather reliable source that there was no information yet.

"I left a gift for you in your room. I hope it is good news, I haven't looked inside, of course."

Risil paused, frozen to the spot. Actual news? Her heart thudded against her chest, so hard was it beating. Her nerves jangled and rang inside of her, making it difficult not to jump up and run to her room.

A flash of color to her left. The dwarrowdam turned, catching sight of the abhorrently tall and golden haired elf warrior. Her lip curled and automatically she looked for a shorter, and balder, form.

"They're part of it, I'm sure." Jekes sneered. "Keeping proper news from you like this. Politics." He turned and spat to one side, drawing some irate looks from those around them.

"Manners." Risil chided absently, missing the dark look he sent her before shuttering his expressions. "We are guests."

"Prisoners." Jekes retorted. "They don't even put us Blacklocks on the same work shifts or crews, keeping us from gathering."

Smart. Risil admitted to herself, it would be something that Himlis or Gresol would have done as a matter of course. With deliberate slowness she rose, giving a polite but distant nod to Jekes as she made her exit.

The dwarrow watched her go with covetous eyes. Once he knew he was too far below in social status to even think of standing next to the Blacklock heiress. Life was funny sometimes. But all alone in the world, in a kingdom with no allies, did she turn to him? No. Well, that would change, now wouldn't it?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili looked askance at the fine silk robes and their stiff embroidery. He closed one eye and then the other. Upon opening both, the robe was still in his hands. "No."

"It's a celebration." Elladan offered. "And these robes are a gift from Thranduil, made for you specifically and not cut down."

Kili blinked over at his father. "That doesn't make it better, just harder to refuse. Wait. No it's not. I refuse." He dropped the robe and it slid from his lap like …well, like silk.

Elladan scooped up the finery with a frown and held it up against his son, stepping neatly out of the way when Kuilaith batted at the material with an ill expression.

"Last celebration I spent here, it was in the prison cells."

"And I'm sorry about that, though I take no responsibility for Thranduil's actions."

Kili grimaced and then laughed, grinning as he bounced a bit on the balls of his feet. "No, don't. It's when I first got to know Tauriel, just a bit. Talked with her."

Knowing a fat and shiny key when it was presented, Elladan took immediate advantage. "Tauriel would be without an escort to the feast, and without a partner for dancing."

"You could escort her." Kuilaith sounded a bit wistful so Elladan pushed further.

"I wouldn't be up for the dancing. Though I'm sure Tauriel has a lot of friends left in this kingdom so she won't lack for partners."

Hook set. Now wait. He really did enjoy fishing, though he'd not gotten the trip with Fili that had been promised back during the Durin's Day celebrations.

"She could stay back with me."

"It's a special celebration, and a chance to show off that she is betrothed. Tauriel may not want to hide you away."

Kuilaith stiffened at the thought, twisting his mouth this way and that. "You're baiting me."

"Is it working?"

"Unfortunately." Kili nodded, then peered over at his father. "I have a feeling that Dwarven and Elven dancing isn't the same."

"We have three nights to teach you."

Kili grumped, but climbed to his feet. "Do elves hold their females close when they dance, like the humans do?"

"For some dances." Elladan admitted.

"THOSE are the ones I want to learn." Kili said, eager and with a determined glint in his eye.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The music. It wasn't suddenly there, Erelinde decided. So deeply focused was she that the music had to have been there first, for this was mid-note that she was coming to awareness. Not to mention that she wasn't startled, as if someone had just begun playing in a quiet room.

She smiled. "Fili."

The name was whispered, but it was heard. The music continued, but there had been a skipped note, a missed beat.

Erelinde pushed pins into her work, which actually took some time as it was a fairly large piece. When finished she turned and looked behind her. "This is nice."

"Is it?" Fili said smoothly, but with no inflection, no emotion.

Erelinde's joy slipped a bit and she blinked. "Fili?"

"I wanted to spend the afternoon with you."

Puzzled, the dwarrowdam shook her head lightly, making the light play off the two beads prominently displayed in her braids.

"Nevermind." Fili's voice softened and he smiled at her. "I wanted to make sure you came down for dinner."

Erelinde nodded gamely at him, leaning forward a bit. "I cheated. I promised a gift to Desil if he came and got me about a half-hour before dinner, so I wouldn't be late."

That warmed him a bit, easing his tension. He laughed freely when she dug through some materials and came up with a mouse-shaped wad of fabric attached to a piece of cotton twine so it could be trailed upon the floor. "To help him train his kitten?" He guessed.

"A fine kitten, but without a mother to teach it how to mouse." Erelinde imparted the news with grave sincerity and a sparkle of amusement in her sky-blue eyes. "Desil worries, as he is not allowed to waste food on what is essentially a pet. You made that clear."

"Good." Fili nodded. "So the lad wants to teach him to catch rats and mice? Well done."

"Bofur made some traps and Desil is going to present any catches they make so the kitten knows what to do with prey once it is caught. It's serious business."

"Indeed." Fili grinned at her, eying the high neck of her blouse that didn't quite go with her dress.

"So, you had the afternoon free too? You should have come up."

_I wanted you to seek me out._ He said the words to himself and then buried them deep, feeling petty and small. Yet he had ever been the one to seek her company, why shouldn't he want her to NEED to see him as much as he did her?

"Fili?"

With a jolt he realized he hadn't answered. Sheepishly he shrugged. "No. I am away from my duties. I told Grimbasher I needed a moment and he didn't argue. Being a prince has some privileges." Though he did really hope Thorin never found out. "It's almost dinner and I will be working with him after that too, so I wanted to take a moment."

Erelinde smiled shyly at him. Fili pointed to her neck and her cheeks flushed lightly around the edges. Her hands went to where he'd bruised her with his mouth.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm really not."

Sky-blue eyes widened and she laughed at him, chiding gently. "Bad."

"Not as bad as I'd like."

"More bad than I should have allowed." She retorted lightly.

"The next one will be where it can't be seen." He promised, his eyes rather hot upon her.

Erelinde held up one finger and licked her lips. "Desil will be here at any moment and let us not traumatize the dwarfling please." A second finger. "You presume much. There won't be a next one." Then a third finger. "I have had an awkward time trying to explain to my father how I can be perfectly well but feel the cold so much that I need such a blouse. Everyday. And I have only one with a high enough collar."

He laughed at her, delighted in her recitation.

She held up a forth finger.

Fili interrupted her. He held up one finger. "Desil isn't here yet and I can block the door." A second finger. "I presume much, yes, but you enjoyed it as much as I." Finally a third finger. "I want to do that again, as soon as possible and will take care not to leave bruises that can be seen."

Erelinde's mouth opened, closed, and opened again. Her mind blanked at where he could possibly do such to her again and not let the bruises show. The places that came to mind were all naughty.

"You have a forth finger up. You have something to add?" He teased her.

"Ruffian, I've forgotten now!"

"Then it must not be important." He grinned, reached out and took her hand, spinning her so that her back was pressed against the door. "Now, Desil can't just walk in."

"Or Risil."

Leaning in and catching the light scent of lilacs, it took Fili a moment to register the breathy words. When he did he drew back and stared at her. "Risil? Blacklock?" He asked, as if there were more than one.

"I didn't mean to bring her up, it's just … she caught me in the hallway before I'd come in to work on my lace. I thought you should know." Erelinde shook her head slightly. "It was nothing, she wanted to know if you'd mentioned anything about messages getting through to Blacklock lands. I told her nothing."

Unsettled Fili stepped back, letting her go.

Meeting his stare, Erelinde shook her head a bit more. "There was nothing to it, I promise. She's desperate. I would be in her place. Like you are waiting to hear from Kili."

"What did you tell her?" He demanded gruffly.

"Nothing!" Erelinde stared at him, then softened her tone. "I told you, I told her I was sure that you or Thorin would let her know as soon as you could."

"You shouldn't have said that."

"Why?" The blonde straightened away from the door slightly. "I told her you or the king would let her know as soon as you could. Not as soon as you heard, I didn't promise anything, I was careful."

"Not careful enough."

"What does that mean?"

"She found you alone and poked at you for answers. She thinks you're the easiest to get information from." Fili rubbed his face. "Never mind, you did fine."

"I probably am the easiest to get information from." Erelinde said with a hint of temper in her voice. "But I'm also smart enough to know that and I told her nothing. Is there anything she should know?"

Fili shook his head at her. "We've had no word. Two message birds, unanswered. That's troubling enough."

"You should tell her, she is at the edge, I can tell."

Grimacing, the prince pressed his lips together. "Thorin wants to wait until we learn more. Next time avoid her. No. Better yet, I'll assign a guard to you." But whom?

"You will not!" Erelinde stumbled over the words, appalled at the very idea. "It's bad enough to spend all my time with Dwalin and Glorfindel, I will not add another."

"I'll speak with Dwalin, it was stupidity to allow you to be off by yourself where you could be approached."

Silence.

Sky-blue eyes chilled and she lifted her chin at him. "Are you calling me stupid?"

"No! I …look, I just wanted you to have an afternoon free so you could spend it with me and you went off alone and look what happened! You run off and hide in your craft room, but it's too easy to find you here. It's not as safe as you think."

"I don't think you know what I think." Erelinde's mind whirled. "So. I'm not supposed to craft? Did you tell me that you wanted my company, or am I so stupid that I missed the hidden message? I thought you were tied up all day and I haven't crafted in ages."

"I didn't call you stupid! Don't be silly!"

"Silly and stupid. How nice." Erelinde nearly choked on the words. "I can't be trusted to be on my own. I can't be trusted to say nothing, even though that's exactly what I did. And I'm silly for questioning you?"

A knock on her door.

"Stay out!" Fili roared.

Erelinde stared at him, wishing she had the ability to lift a single eyebrow. She turned and opened the door, smiling brightly at a confused looking Desil. The dwarfling's eyes widened to see Fili with her.

"I have something for you." The blond crafter reached out and snagged the kitten toy, making the youngster beam. "Just be careful. It apparently attracts great …big …rats."

Fili stiffened behind her, gritting his teeth and wondering how this day had gone so damned wrong.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Glorfindel watched as Risil Blacklock swept from the area, his expression blank and unreadable. When he looked down he found Dwalin's knowing gaze upon him. He quirked one eyebrow in question.

The bald warrior shrugged. "She's been nosing around, seeking information about her brother or news from home."

"Understandable." Glorfindel commented dryly. "Hardly suspicious."

"Yet you are." Dwalin pointed out coolly.

"And you're not?"

The bald warrior shrugged, admitting nothing. "Gondolin fell, betrayed from within. Not for lack of strength on the inside."

The elf appeared surprised as Dwalin glowered at Glorfindel's pleasure. "You studied!"

"Shut it." Dwalin barked, not dimming the elf's smile by a single bit.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Balin headed back to the guest rooms set aside for their party, his arms laden with books from King Thranduil's own library. On the way, he passed several elves, three of which even nodded in his direction. There were far fewer stares now, which was progress to his way of thinking.

"THERE YOU ARE!"

A startled sound escaped Balin as his arm was grabbed by none other than his own personal whirlwind. "Kili! Lad!" The white-bearded dwarf had to do a bit of juggling to keep the precious books from falling unceremoniously to the floor.

A passing elf maid reacted without thought and caught one book as it slid from the top perch.

"My thanks to you, lass." Balin gave the maid a friendly smile right before he was yanked away by Kili. "Lad, you're being rude."

"Apologies." Kili mumbled, flashing a bright smile in the general direction indicated.

The elf maid watched the strange duo move away, charmed in spite of herself. Dwarves were so different, but not what she'd always thought. How odd.

Kili dragged Balin toward Elladan's room that he now shared with Elrohir as the former had declared he was well enough to move out of the healing halls. All he needed was to regain his strength. The healers didn't fight him on the decision, which settled both the twin brother and the son down quite a bit.

Balin pushed the books onto a nearby table lest they meet some disaster. The library here was so fine and he did not want to abuse Thranduil's good nature, small as it might be, by messing up the books he'd been allowed to borrow.

"Music!" Kili called out imperiously.

Elrohir rolled his eyes, but obediently tilted the lap harp closer to his body and began to play. Soft, soothing.

"Is there no beat?"

Elrohir sighed and began to pluck certain chords a bit louder than the others, making what beat there was more audible.

"Can't you stomp your feet in time or something?" Kili asked, looking cross.

"No." Elrohir apparently had come to the end of what he'd allow. "No I will not."

"They won't at the party either." Elladan rushed to add.

"Right, right. That's good. Good planning." Kili sighed. "Music is rubbish for dancing though."

"Well, perhaps not for Elvish dancing." Balin temporized then protested as Kili shoved him toward Elladan. "Alright, show me."

Balin looked up at a chagrinned looking elf father. "I'm not understanding."

"My son wants to learn to dance, the Elvish way, but claims he needs to see it done."

Balin blinked and then chuckled. "Why don't you and Elrohir dance together then?"

"Offered and denied, said he needed to see a couple of different height. You have now been drafted." Elrohir said, his eyes closed as he plucked and made the harp sing a happy tune.

"Well." Balin looked up at Elladan. "I don't know what to do."

"Don't step on his toes, it makes him cross." Kili admitted with a wry grin. "Sorry about that, again."

Elladan sighed and held out one hand, which Balin accepted.

Without opening his eyes, Elrohir grinned. "Does anyone know if Tauriel even likes dancing? Or knows how?"

Everyone fell silent, only the music of the harp continued.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Risil closed the door, but didn't rush to the package sitting in the middle of her bed. First she checked the tell-tale signs. Yes. Someone had been in her room. But had it been Jekes? Or others too.

She opened the trunk at the foot of the bed. She had more than most of the Blacklocks. Her saddles had been stuffed with clothing, many of them quite rich, rather than supplies. Still it wasn't all that much and the trunk wasn't even half full. With a sour expression she noted that the clothing had been rifled through.

In her head she pictured Dwalin holding up her fine linen underthings. "The closest you'll ever come to such garments, I'm sure." She muttered darkly. Disturbed however, she wondered about Jekes. Or could it have been that Nori fellow?

Risil didn't believe the story of his estrangement from Thorin, not one ounce. Not after the grand show the king had made about calling Nori and his brothers kin to him.

Assured she was alone, Risil took a deep breath, sitting on the side of the bed. Her hands shook as she opened a small package, revealing an envelope wrapped with twine, and a letter.

Holding her breath, Risil opened it and read:

_Nightingale. I write to you in my own hand as I trust none other. Our uncle Waits for us in the Halls, as do many of our fine warriors. Mordor's forces have cut us off from reaching home and we were forced to seek shelter. I have sent many messages to King Thorin but the vile creature will not tell me of you or your well-being. He seeks to separate us, fearing the power of the Blacklock clan. I don't even know if he has informed you that I yet live, though I have to trust that he has. No one could be cruel enough to keep information like that to themselves. Not even he._

_Nightingale, my dearest sister, I need you to be strong. I have a contact that can get messages back and forth, though it will take time. Better yet, I have a plan. The packet I sent has some crystals for inducing deep sleep. It is odorless and colorless. On the night of the next full moon, I need you to find a way to add it to the evening meal, better yet, to the ale. It's not a poison, so there is no danger if you have to take some of it yourself, in fact, that may prove safer. I leave that in your hands. My contact will be ready and he will throw wide the doors to Erebor. We will not take the crown so much as ransom it. They can keep the throne, while we will winter in much more pleasant circumstances and when we return home, it will be with golden triumph. Our uncle would be so proud._

_Nightingale, I know I put my trust in you like no other. But who else would I so trust but you? Rejoice, we will be together shortly. And if it is your will, I will crown you Erebor's queen by my own hand._

_Himlis_

Risil read it over five times, looking for any hidden thoughts or signs of duress. Reluctantly she picked up the packet of crystals.

Carefully, cautiously she opened it. Taking a small sniff, she nodded to herself.


	74. In which Sealyn discovers Nori

"It stinks in here."

Erelinde Stormrune didn't pause nor look up from her work though she recognized the voice. "Sealyn."

"She's not alone." Brunere piped up, seeing how much their friend was concentrating on her work. "I thought you told me that you preferred to field retting flax?" She said, looking around at the rows of shallow rock 'tubs' of water. They were crude but effective at holding the plants submerged.

"I do." Erelinde looked up with a tired smile for her friends. "But the flax was already harvested by the humans and we were lucky to get this crop with roots still attached. The fields are all under heavy snow right now, and we are surrounded by the possibility of orcs and goblins making using the fields too hazardous right now."

"I wish otherwise, letting them go to seed would have given us some fine oils." Sealyn said with a sniff, then made a face as she caught whiff of the enzymes collecting in the form of scum on top of the water in the tubs.

"Dori helped me set up these tubs, he feels, and I agree, that using one of the underground streams would pollute the water too much and we may need all sources of good fresh water this winter." Erelinde looked around, apparently unaffected by the heavy odor.

Sealyn nodded thoughtfully. "Nori is worried about possible siege as well."

Brunere shifted uncomfortably. "Don't remind me, the very thought is daunting." She pointed at the flax being treated. "For your mastery or for fine clothing for Fili?"

"Neither." Erelinde huffed, smiling as she tucked errant strands of hair behind her ear from where they'd escaped her once neat braids. "The linen I spin from these fibers won't be fine enough for either. This will be for basics. It will be a few years before Erebor can put out the fine materials she was known for." Her voice sounded wistful.

"Can we talk elsewhere?" Sealyn gave a sound that a rude person might consider a whine, but a friend would take as a suggestion.

"I was just finishing up." Erelinde admitted, stretching her back with a wince as she used a pitcher of water to rinse off her hands and face. "It should be about time for breakfast."

Brunere huffed, then chuckled. "Near past lunch."

Sky-blue eyes blinked, then Erelinde made a face as her mind spun trying to recall if she'd made any promises to meet with anyone. She winced heavily.

Sealyn smiled softly at her friend. "Who did you stand up?"

"I told Master Dori that I'd give him a report about retting the flax sometime after breaking the fast this morning." Erelinde admitted on a sigh.

Brunere shrugged. "It is 'sometime' after that now. Just later than might have been expected. He should be understanding, considering what work you've been putting in."

"I should have been done ages ago." Erelinde explained, looking put out. "But the work crew got called away on something more urgent."

"There you go, let Dori know that, he'll understand why it took longer than expected." Sealyn had moved to the door, holding it open and standing on the other side, most likely to avoid breathing in the rather foul smells. "I love linen, the feel of it, the quality of it, but I hate this part."

"You don't do this part." Brunere laughed, shaking her head as the trio moved out and down the hallway, walking briskly away.

Sealyn sniffed, making a face. "The odor follows us."

"That's me." Erelinde said gently, bringing forward one of her long braids to sniff at it delicately. "I'm sure it's me."

"We would never say you stink." Brunere said with a suddenly solemn expression that quickly melted into a grin. "But we wouldn't deny it either."

All three dwarrowdam laughed as they kept walking toward the more central halls.

"I should bathe before eating." Erelinde sniffed at herself once more, but was more or less oblivious to the smell by this time.

"You'll miss the meal entirely if you do, and by your own admission you already missed breakfast." Sealyn shook her head and turned toward the corridors that would lead them to the dining area. "The dwarrow have been working non-stop in shifts, many of them are less than fresh and no one will really mind."

"Or are you wary lest you run into a certain handsome prince?" Brunere teased.

Erelinde said nothing. Her face didn't react. She simply kept walking as if nothing had been said. Sealyn and Brunere shot each other a quick look. The violet-eyed healer made a hand gesture while the other dam shook her head, rejecting the idea. Brunere made a small face and then two more hand gestures down by her side in an effort to hide them from Erelinde. Sealyn shrugged.

"Stop." The blonde sighed, putting her word into reality by halting. The other two dams moved forward a step or two before they too stopped. "I'm over-focused at times, oblivious a lot, and absent minded but I'm hardly blind."

Sealyn looked around. There was bustling activity flowing around them. Individual males and small work crews moved around the lasses with ease as the hallways were quite wide. But they weren't going unnoticed. Looks were thrown their way, which was normal in a society with far fewer females. It didn't help that while two of them sported courting beads, none were as yet wed. "No privacy."

"None needed." Erelinde said carefully, her expression neutral.

Another shared look, a longer one, between the other two dams. Brunere nodded decisively. "Right. We're heading to the room. You go get some food and bring it back to us."

"No." Erelinde said, then repeated herself as her friend grabbed her hand and tugged her in a different direction. "No."

"Are you getting any better using your dagger for offense?" Sealyn called out to her friend.

Erelinde turned and frowned. "Not really. Some. Dwalin still looks like it hurts him when I stab the training dummy. I think I might make him cry one day."

From her side, and still holding her hand, Brunere giggled. "Good. Then I have no worries." And saying this, tugged harder, nearly pulling Erelinde off her feet as they moved back toward their shared rooms.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Lad?"

Kili didn't look up but did budge over as Balin settled in on the bench beside him. For a lengthy moment, the only two Dwarves in the Elvish kingdom stared out at the winter trees. They said nothing for a very long time.

"Cold out here." Balin commented after nearly a half of an hour passed by without interruption.

"Cold in there."

Surprised, Balin sent his kin a sliding glance from the corner of his eye. He knew the reference would not be to Tauriel or either elf twin. In fact, Kili was getting on pretty well with all three of late. The fight they'd shared against Thranduil had changed something intrinsic and vital. It showed most often when Kili referred to Elladan as his father. The slight hesitation, the pause, the wonder, the anger, all seemed to have lessened, nearly vanishing. It might still lurk beneath the surface, but Balin judged that the lad was finally growing accepting of the truth. A truth that was the fact that Elladan wasn't going away, not physically, and not emotionally.

"Thanduil?" Balin hoped not. Quarrelling with a host was not a good thing, especially not with one that could and would toss them in a prison cell or out of his kingdom altogether. The fight they'd all had earlier had ended well enough, but he doubted such would be the case again.

A snort. Kili didn't look at the other dwarrow, keeping his gaze on the trees. "They dream. Did you know that?"

Balin shook his head, having lost the thread of the conversation entirely. "Elves?" He asked.

"Trees." Kili clarified. "They're asleep for the winter season. And they dream."

Balin turned his eyes out onto the forest kingdom of the Wood Elves. Trees were everywhere. Then again, it was a forest. Bare branches full of ice and snow. Hard bark protecting the heart of the tree from the elements and the season. "They do?"

Kili laughed without mirth, an almost desperate edge to his mood that alarmed his older cousin. "What do they dream of?" Balin asked hurriedly.

"Warmer days. Leaves. New growth." A slight pause before continuing. "Shadows. Would that be a nightmare to a tree?" Kili asked, finally turning to look at the white-bearded dwarf beside him.

Balin shrugged helplessly, spreading his hands to show he had no way of answering.

"It's not real thought, no words or anything. Thranduil was very pleased that I could …he …I surprised him. He still looks down on me you realize. And yet strangely I think it gives him pride when I learn anything new, though I also thinks he wants me to fail."

"A most complicated and contradictory king." Balin nodded, feeling unsure and completely blind to any irony in describing Thranduil, rather than Thorin. Silence built up between them once again. Not easy and feeling like there were swift emotional currents hidden beneath the quiet contemplation, Balin sighed. "Are you ready for this evening's celebration?"

No answer, not right away. The older dwarrow waited though. Stone could wait, a basic racial surety of Dwarves. Finally, after another near quarter of an hour, Kili shook his head and glanced up at the sky. "Perhaps I shouldn't go."

"You mean you made me dance with Elladan for nothing?" Balin asked, placing his hand against his chest and pretending to being outraged. The humor fell fall short of the mark. When Kili failed to react, the white-bearded dwarrow nodded slowly. "Lad, something troubles you?"

No response.

Balin hummed tunelessly under his breath. "Fili would push you off that bench to get you to talk. Thorin would give you one of his harsh looks. Dwalin would run you ragged until you gave in."

"And you'll talk me to death." Kili said evenly, then turned toward the other male. He stared. "What am I?" He asked finally.

Tilion's Heir. The words hung heavy and unspoken between them.

Balin cleared his throat. "Kili. Kuilaith."

The brunet made a rude noise and a hand gesture of denial. "Those are just names. Tags. Labels. No. I do have a Dwarven True Name, but is it still valid? Was it ever?" Kili gave the older dwarrow no chance to answer, turning more fully toward him. "My name's rune is glowing in the heart of Erebor, but I can hear that the trees are dreaming! I have no clue if stone dreams, Balin. None! I can send pictures with my head! Not words, none, though that is supposed to be easier." The lad was starting to sound bitter. "I used to know who I was, but I don't anymore!"

"Welcome to adulthood."

Kili growled at what he considered a flippant response to the baring of his soul. He rolled gracefully to his feet, anger hanging heavily from his every limb.

"No. I'm serious. Before this quest you were an adult in name only. A capable and strong warrior, but ever in Thorin's shadow. Or Fili. Even Dis."

Kili stilled, still glowering, but at least listening.

"Everybody goes through something similar, though perhaps to a lesser or greater degree depending upon the person. And I don't mean just Khazad, but everyone. Every sentient race." Balin smiled with deep sadness and sympathy, making Kili's heart ache at the sight. "There comes a moment when you cease to be defined by how you were raised, by whom, and where …and you have to define yourself. I don't make light of your mixed blood. And I don't know what you will become. I do know that you are still Kili. But also Kuilaith, and in many places those two names are the SAME person, though not always. You have to step out of the shadows now lad, become the person you are meant to be and no …I don't know who that is, and it is alright that you don't know yet either."

Kili blinked, standing on the razors edge of hope and despair. "Does stone dream?"

"Yes and no." Balin said with a chuckle. "It's a deeper thing than a dream. Vast. A tree is a small thing compared to a mountain of stone, so it's right that the dreams would be smaller, easier to pick out. And no, not every Dwarf 'hears' such. I don't. Dwalin doesn't. Bofur does. Thror did at one time." He said with a sad expression. "He lost that."

"I never had it."

"Lad, you've never lived underground." Balin chided him. "Not really, and you haven't trained. Your name is in the heart of Erebor? That is not a small thing, not a small thing at all. If I tried to find the heart of the mountain I'd end up lost. The mountain would not guide me there. I'm not …that's for Durin's Line, the direct line, lad. It's a wondrous thing you were allowed there, much less that your name graces the mountain."

Rocked, Kili watched Balin as he drew in a breath of hope.

"What happened lad? All the training, all the work on elvish mind-speak, all the music and dancing, and what ….what brings you down?"

Kili pinked a bit and then shrugged. "I tried on the Elvish style robes and slippers."

"Felt foolish did ye?"

"No. No, I didn't." Kuilaith smiled almost bitterly. "They fit. And that frightened me."

Balin nodded, knowing the lad meant more than the physical fit of the clothing. Kili was becoming Kuilaith more than just as a way to label himself to elves. Truthfully, the thought frightened him too. He forced a smile. "Kili. I still recognize you."

The simple phrase startled the younger male, who suddenly cracked into a wide smile. "Really?" He laughed.

Balin nodded emphatically, realizing that he meant it as he listened to that achingly familiar sound. Kuilaith or Kili, the lad was still himself. Still a scamp with a charming grin and a thirst for life and fun. "Really."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"All alone today?"

The voice was enough to put iron in Sealyn's spine. "Risil." She didn't turn around though she did stiffen. Her hands hesitated as she arranged the various dishes on the dented silver tray.

"Are we friends?" Came the chilly response to the use of the personal name.

"Lady Blacklock." Amended the dam, not wanting to provoke anything.

"Better …" A toothy smile. "Sealyn." She deliberately said in a not-very-subtle jab. "I don't see that dwarrow with you today? The deliciously handsome one with the fine ginger beard."

The smooth voice was complimentary and smooth, the vibes beneath were like jagged rocks, ready to rip and tear. Sealyn set her jaw and finished putting together a luncheon tray, covering it carefully. The dents made kept the silver from being level, but if she walked carefully nothing would break or fall.

"What is his name? Nori?"

Sealyn turned quickly, her eyes flashing with temper. The movement made two of the bowls knock together and she stilled. Nothing spilled.

Risil held up her hands as if in surrender. "You wear no beads, be at peace. I chase after no one who won't have me." She teased, intimating that any male would want her and Sealyn was of no competition. "He is yet free." Her dark eyes flitted to wear no nashatal braid was evident.

"I await arrival of family." Sealyn said without committing herself, then felt like biting her tongue in two. She should have said nothing.

Risil drew back, widening her eyes deliberately. "How coincidental." Something stony looked back out of her gaze. "So do I."

Sealyn walked past the Blacklock dam, daring her to stand in her way. Risil appeared to consider it, but shifted at the last second to avoid being bumped. "Such a handsome dwarrow. Fantastically rich as well as brave. Yet no beads? How careless of you. Perhaps you hesitate …or he does."

Nothing. She would say nothing. Sealyn ground her teeth together and lifted her head high, ignoring that everyone around them could hear every word. The Blacklock bitch wasn't interested in Nori now, was she? It sounded like it, but it could be a play, a goad. Ignoring all looks and speculation, Sealyn swept from the area with her head unbowed. Inwardly though she was raging, and ….nervous.

She couldn't hear whispers behind her, but she felt like they were there. Within hours the whole mountain would have heard. Risil made sure of that. Which meant the Blacklock dam wasn't serious. Right? Or had it been a gauntlet?

Getting to the door, Sealyn didn't have a free hand and without grace or refinement, she kicked the door rather harshly. The door rattled in the frame and Brunere opened it quickly enough, her pretty eyes wide. She stared at her friend's stony countenance and moved aside.

Erelinde turned and saw the opened door and gave a wild look before stepping back behind a hastily crafted screen the lasses had rescued and repaired. Brunere's father no longer shared a room with the dams, but it was handy when privacy was not readily available.

"Shut the door."

Brunere stared at Sealyn's back and judged her voice as she did indeed shut the door. For good measure she latched it as well, raising her eyebrows in question.

Sealyn rolled her shoulders. "Risil Blacklock."

Erelinde's head leaned out from behind the wood-paneled screen. "Oh?"

"Looking for Prince Fili no doubt." Brunere's lips tilted toward a sneer, only to disappear as her friend answered.

"Nori. She was asking about Nori."

This time it was Brunere and Erelinde sharing a shocked look as the blond disappeared back behind the screen to finish washing up with the cold water in the basin. It wasn't a full bath, but it would have to do for now.

Sealyn put down the tray and took a steadying breath. She bustled around the room, straightening things that were already tidy and even grabbing Erelinde's discarded clothing from where they hung over the screen. Sniffing them she made a face and tossed them in the laundry basket.

"No. I need that shirt."

At Erelinde's disembodied voice, Sealyn shook her head. "It smells."

"I need it."

"It smells." Sealyn reiterated, crossing her arms mulishly.

Brunere opened her trunk and pulled out a clean shirt, reaching behind the screen with it, though not looking. "Here. Take mine until yours is laundered."

"That won't work."

Surprised, Brunere pulled the shirt back and looked at it. The garment was well sown and serviceable, the cloth sturdy and without spot or stain. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing. It's what's wrong with me."

Brunere took a single, large, step backwards and looked. Her mouth dropped open and she stared.

Sealyn looked confused. "What's wrong?"

"What happened?" Brunere asked quietly, abashed. "Did Dwalin hurt you?"

"N ….no." Erelinde's voice turned squeaky and embarrassed.

Sealyn hurried over to peek, finding her friend in a thin chemise …and bruised. On the neck. "He shouldn't attack you there, you could get hurt."

Brunere stiffened. "Did …was this Risil Blacklock?"

Sealyn growled, clenching her hands. "Bitch."

"Fili."

"First she tries to steal one dwarrow, now she's looking at mine? I hope you left her with bruises too!" Sealyn Heavyaxe made a fist. "I'll leave bruises on her!"

"It was Fili."

Sealyn didn't really register the response, already turning away and stalking toward the door. Brunere looked stunned, turning her eyes back and forth indecisively. "What? Sealyn, wait!"

Erelinde hurried out from behind the screen, raising her voice as Sealyn opened the door wide. "STOP!" She shouted.

Everyone stopped. Including the dwarrow passing by the doorway, staring in at Erelinde in her chemise with their jaws dropped. The blonde went red and covered her neck. Brunere squeaked and after a moment's hesitation, Sealyn slammed the door shut. A moment later she re-engaged the latch.

All three dwarrowdams stared at each other. Finally Sealyn pointed at where Erelinde was hiding the bruise on her neck, and not covering her assets that were pretty visible beneath the thin material of the chemise. "What?"

"It as Fili."

Brunere moved forward and pulled Erelinde's hands down. "He hit you?"

"He kissed me." She murmured, her eyelashes lowering over her eyes and her cheeks pinking up. "I don't know if it was his beard or his mouth, but it left a mark. It's healing though. Apparently if Dis or Thorin sees it then Fili and I will be stuck with a chaperone."

"Looks like you need one." Brunere whispered, violet-eyes wide.

Sealyn blushed hotter than her friend, groaning. "I should have realized."

"You couldn't have known." Brunere assured her friend, then stopped, staring at the inky-haired dam. "Sealyn? Have you …do you? I've not seen any marks."

Sealyn's face was red as fire at the moment. Erelinde stared, remembering how Fili had promised that the 'next one' would be where no one could see it. She hiccupped suddenly, breaking the tension, her hand going to cover her mouth.

Brunere looked back and forth between the two, growing ever suspicious. Finally she threw up her hands. "Am I the only one not gardening?"

Sealyn moaned, dropping her face into her hands while Erelinde shook her head wildly, then hiccupped once more.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"They gather. Whisper. I don't like it." Nori said quietly.

Ori nodded nervously, wanting to write what his brother was telling him down but knowing he'd get chastised for committing anything thusly. He was being used to get information to Thorin. As far as the world knew, Nori and the king were still at odds.

"So. You're trying to draw closer?" Ori said, unable to keep the stiffness from his tone.

Calculating eyes slid toward him as the older sibling watched him thoughtfully. Ori squirmed a bit. "Why?"

"Risil was speaking, saying you were handsome and brave and rich."

"She's observant." Nori said without inflection, or any puffery connected to flattery. As if he accepted the words as truth and could care less.

Ori shook his head, looking away. "You told me to stay away from her."

Nori nodded slowly. "For your own good."

"But it's okay for you?" Came the petulant response.

Nori stilled, he grunted. "I have no interest in the Blacklock heiress except in discovering her plans."

"She can be nice." Ori offered.

The elder brother sighed heavily. "She plays with you like a dwarfling with a new toy."

The scribe's hands fisted and Nori knew he'd taken a wrong step. "She's dangerous, and has no real interest in me. It's all a game to her. Whom was she speaking with when talking about me?"

Ori shuffled his feet a bit, then told his brother about Sealyn in the dining room area.

Nori nodded thoughtfully. "A thrust at another dwarrowdam. A way to soothe wounded pride when Fili didn't rise to the bait. When you stopped dancing to her tune. It's a goad." He frowned, thinking of Sealyn. He might want to check on her, make sure she wasn't reacting like Ori was.

"I still think she's nice."

"Just stay clear of her." Nori warned, walking away, his mind now preoccupied with what game Risil Blacklock was playing now.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Sealyn finished arranging the silk scarf around Erelinde's throat, tucking the ends beneath the bodice of her open shirt. "Stylish."

"Thirty years ago." Brunere sounded unconvinced.

"She cannot put that stinky shirt back on until it's laundered, and she can't go around flashing that bruise. Too recognizable."

"Not to me." Brunere muttered, feeling a bit jealous and left out.

Sealyn smiled at her friend, teasingly lifting a shoulder. "All you have to do is ask. You have four beads and four suitors. Any one of them would love to make his mark, so to speak."

"My da would cleave them in half, one by one." The healer looked down at her hand, playing with the splint that should be coming off in a week or two.

"You can borrow my other scarf." Sealyn promised with a cheeky look and a wink.

"I don't think I've seen you wear these before." Erelinde checked the mirror critically, making sure all was covered and would stay out of public notice.

"You were crafting." Her friend said dismissively.

"No." Brunere contradicted. "I've never seen you wear these, and I'm very familiar with your closet as you are mine." She said with a questioning look. "These …are …new."

Sealyn shook her head, pressing her lips together.

"Nori." Erelinde guessed, smiling happily at her friend. "Have you decided to braid your hair?"

"No." The inky-haired dam shrugged, going from cheeky to irritated, though at whom was a guess. "I'm going to wait for my father, and for Brunere's mam as well."

"You like him." Erelinde pointed out. "I know you do."

"It's more complicated than that. He has some sort of argument with the king, he won't speak on it. Never says anything bad about King Thorin, not to me. But there are rumors everywhere. And Nori seems to have a reputation that is less than savory. But. He is a member of the Company, obviously brave and a great warrior. Smart. I just don't know!"

"Well, his relationship with the king is pretty complicated. But I know that King Thorin recognizes their kinship." Brunere said slowly, with Erelinde nodding along.

Sealyn stared at the two of them. "Kinship?"

Badly startled, the other two dams blinked simultaneously. "He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Sealyn said, her eyes nearly burning with intensity.

Erelinde bit her lip, shaking her head. Brunere shrugged helplessly. "It's not gossip. We heard directly from the Lady Dis that Nori is connected to Durin's Line. Directly." She emphasized.

"Tell me!"

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You look handsome."

Nervously, Kili stopped playing with the lines of the robe, looking up into the mirror and behind him to meet the eyes of his father. He turned, spreading his arms.

The robes where a rich blue silk, dark and shimmering with embroidery along the edges. The sleeves were slightly full from the shoulder to the forearm and then they laced tightly and came to a point just below his wrist on the back of each hand. The rings were Dwarven and strangely did not look out of place with the Elvish garb. The belt was elaborate and shot through with gold thread, actually it wouldn't have been out of place if seen in Erebor, to Kili's reckoning eye.

The pants were rather tighter than he was used to having, but not bad and mostly hidden behind the panels of the robe that had two side slits to allow for ease of movement. The boots were decidedly Elven in design, light and Kili felt almost barefoot in comparison to the heavier footwear he was used to wearing.

"Happy?" Kili asked brightly.

"Only if you are." Elladan said after a moment, staring at his son. "You still look handsome though."

"I've grown." Kili commented. "At least six inches."

Elladan nodded, though to his eye it was more like five. He said nothing though. Although Kuilaith was projecting an air of unconcern, he could read his child better now than he could when first arriving in Erebor. "Your beard is filling in more."

A quick flick of a grin, there and gone as Kuilaith's gaze dropped. "You've been speaking with Balin."

Elladan looked puzzled for a moment. "No. I have not seen him today, is everything alright?"

"Oh. No, it's nothing." Kuilaith looked down at his fingernails. They were clean and trimmed, he'd done that today. Didn't want to appear the buffoon at the evening celebration.

Suddenly Elladan's head tilted to one side as he peered at his son. Kuilaith glanced back at the mirror, wondering what had caught his father's attention.

"Your braid isn't there."

Kili lifted Tauriel's beads and waved the braid at him.

Elladan gave him a parental look and lifted a single eyebrow. "The other ones."

"Elvish night, and Elvish clothing."

Elladan nodded, to show he understood. Then he shook his head in disagreement. "You don't have to hide who and what you are. You are dual natured, that is not to be dismissed or hidden."

For a moment Kili wondered if his father really had been speaking with Balin, but sensed no deception. He sighed at the on-target perceptive abilities of the elves.

"If I'm not mistaken the braids that are missing mark you as Khazad, Durin's Folk, warrior and …."

"Heir to Thorin."

Elladan waved at his son to finish dressing.

Kili grinned and shrugged. "I don't want to mess up the lines of my robe."

Considering, the elvish father thought of calling for Balin. Instead he gestured for Kuilaith to pull up a low stool and sit. Unsure, but not adverse, the brunet sat. He didn't pretend not to know what his father had in mind.

"Part it on the left, underneath. This one has a left-twist, if you draw it too tight it skews to one side."

"Too loose and it falls out." Elladan nodded in understanding, reaching for the side table holding a comb and a low dish with several beads and clasps.

Several minutes passed with instructions, and one braid that took at least three tries. On the last one they heard a polite knock followed by Balin entering with Elrohir and Tauriel.

The white-bearded dwarf looked resplendent in burgundy with exquisitely shiny decorations and clasps on his freshly oiled leathers. The geometric designs were foreign to Elvish eyes, but Elladan saw a beauty in them now that he never had before. "You look wonderful."

Balin beamed, though his eyes went immediately to Elladan's hands holding onto the traditional braids of Durin's Line. He hesitated. All the elves waited. Kili blinked, stiff and nervous.

Balin pointed one stubby finger at Elladan's hands. "If you hold that piece with your smaller two fingers it will ease the twisting motion and allow the clasp to slide in without tangling." He said, moving away and making no move to take over the job.

Everyone breathed and muscles slowly relaxed and fell into a rather easy camaraderie. Teasing each other on their finery and dancing prowess.

Tauriel pretended not to know what the males had been up to for the past three days and they pretended they didn't know she knew. Laughing as she made Balin swear to save at least one dance for her before he was swept away by all the single elvish maids.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

It was nearly impossible to go unseen in a place like Erebor. People gave you the illusion of privacy, looking away during personal talks and politely ignoring things. But it wasn't the same thing. Secrets were hard to keep, and sometimes being obvious was the only way to accomplish what you wanted.

Risil Blacklock turned heads. She strode through the hallways with her rich chestnut hair done up in tiny intricate braids, shot through with silver thread and diamond chips. Her gown wasn't revealing, but it was layers upon layers of thin silk that hid very little. It flowed about her, enhancing her rather fine looking figure and complimenting her coloring perfectly.

She looked neither left nor right with her khol-lined eyes and tinted mouth. Risil Blacklock walked through Erebor as if she owned the mountain and all it contained. Whispers erupted around her, eyes followed her. She smiled a secret smile and stopped before one certain door.

Risil turned and looked at everyone watching her and lifted her chin. She winked saucily and pursed her lips as she opened the door without knocking, as if expected, and wanted. "I'm here, sorry to be late. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." She purred loudly enough to be heard.

Whispers and eyebrows rose, some smirked and others worried. Some shook their heads and a few hurried down the hallway to knock on another door several corridors over.

Sealyn opened the door, wearing work clothing but without the vest as she'd been getting undressed following dinner. She had the evening free until the next work shift when she was expected in the mining areas, working on chains for the ore carts. It wasn't gem cutting, but it was important.

She had a lot on her mind, having heard only that afternoon about Nori and his brothers being actual kin to the King and Durin's Line. It gave her so much to think on. Was Nori's argument with the king really on the distribution of gold or was it more? Why hadn't he told her? There was so much she didn't know about him. It was enough to make her question her own judgement.

But the moment she learned that Risil Blacklock had walked into the rooms that Nori was sharing with Ori while he wasn't in Dale, she stiffened harder than steel. No! All thoughts of not pursuing a relationship with the enigmatic Nori disappeared in an instant. She hurried from the room, a look of battle on her face.

Dwarrow parted in front of her, giving way as whispers rose around them. She didn't pause at the door any more than Risil had, though she wasn't aware of the comparison.

Nori looked up, stone faced and not looking happy. Risil was lounging in a seat looking incredibly wanton and beautiful and Sealyn ground her teeth together. She herself was dusty, dirty, worn out, and with ragged braids. Not fair!

"Slam the door." Risil said quietly.

Wait. What? She stared, then reached out and slammed the door behind her hard enough to shake the frame.

Risil turned back to Nori. "Like I said. I don't believe your story of being on the outs with the king and neither did my brother or uncle. Not for a minute. But I'm willing to make use in order to get my words to King Thorin."

Sealyn stared, her chest heaving with labored breathing.

"Continue." Nori said coldly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know where I was going except with the Erebor plot when I started this chapter. I didn't want to start the Elvish celebration until the next one though, so I needed something. Kili and Balin then Kuilaith and Elladan. I hadn't planned those conversations. But when done, I feel that they are far more important than anything else in this (or several) chapters. Plot bunnies can surprise you at times.


	75. In which Thorin eats and Kili dances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. The plot bunnies bite at their own timing. Also been working on original short story for an anthology. Hope to update soon!

The majestic cavern that housed Thranduil's palace led to many smaller side caves, each decorated with over a millennia of flourishes and artistry. Kili was more or less used to it all by now, but following the pathway to the celebration hall, he couldn't help but look around him in wonder. Lights flickered everywhere. Torches and candles and each twinkled as if they were stars, captured and brought inside. The ceiling, if the upper reaches of a cave could be called such, soared high overhead almost like a night sky. It was like being ensconced in one of those toy domes Bifur once made the brothers, a perfectly crafted space full of beauty and charm. Kili slowed, taking it all in with wide eyes filled with wonder. Balin stopped beside him, his own eyes taking it all in with a form of reverence.

Smiling at their reactions, Elrohir nudged the duo to one side in order to allow others to enter. Several elves passed by, some amused by their guests expressions, some disdainful. "Come now." Kili's uncle murmured. "Neither of you should be surprised by anything found underground. I've seen the genius that is Erebor." He frowned a bit as he recalled the destruction they'd left behind in that mountain kingdom.

Balin caught the expression with a bare nod of his head in acknowledgement, sorrow tinging his small chuckle. "We are well used to be looked down upon for living in caverns and in our mines. The palace here is well defended and quite comfortable, but not what we think of as an Elvish residence being in a cave system. Then we become comfortable enough here, only to come across beauty that wouldn't be amiss inside Erebor. It strikes the heart and makes us long for home."

Kili shook his head. "I can hear the stars here, but it's not outside. How?"

Startled, Elrohir looked upwards even as Tauriel and Elladan approached them. Kili repeated his question with a touch of awe in his voice.

Tauriel smiled warmly and pointed out some of the twinkling lights above. "Crystals. Small pieces of magic, sung into power in the first age. The making of such relics of things now lost to us. King Oropher brought them with him upon his journey. They are kept aloft most of the time, and all year they bask in the glow of the sun, moon and stars, absorbing a little of that brilliance each day and night. Then for special occasions they are brought inside for our delight, to gift us with their illumination and call to our souls."

"They're singing." Kili repeated even as he nodded slowly at Tauriel's explanation. Call to his soul? Yes. He could feel that deep within. The music that wasn't music wafted over him, comforting and warm. "It feels like the light is like a beacon, calling all hither, to come home and share. To be among family and friends." He shook himself off suddenly, giving a gamin grin while laughing at himself. "Not even a full season here and I turn into a poet. Ignore me."

A few elves, with their very fine hearing, turned slightly to cast looks in Kuilaith's direction. Some looked lightly surprised at his description of the crystals, while a few merely nodded, there were even some small smiles of encouragement and pride.

Elladan though, frowned gently. He leaned down and whispered in his son's ear. "You are entirely correct, but perhaps you should not advertise your abilities so openly among those unknown to us."

Tillion's Heir.

Kili blinked rapidly and some of his good mood dissipated. His father was right, of course. "And this isn't my home." He pushed away the feelings the song brought out in him as a product of elvish magics.

"The light here recognizes you?" Balin asked him, his tone somewhat hesitant.

Kili laughed it off with a shrug. "The light of the moon and stars shines on all places and all kingdoms, including Erebor. That is what calls to me." He hoped. "For all their regard for all things light, that brightness doesn't shine on them alone."

Balin's smile turned brighter as he nodded at the fine point his younger cousin made. "Indeed. Though above ground for over a century, we are inherently subterranean in nature, never forget lad."

Kili nodded even as Kuilaith looked up at the crystals imitating stars, almost as if he were two persons within one body. It confused him at times, just who he was.

Elladan's hand tightened on his shoulder. "Let us find the food and then the dancing."

Kuilaith or Kili, both were in agreement for one thing at least. He smiled widely and held out his arm for Tauriel, who accepted his escort with a pinkened smile, but no hesitation at all. Together they walked into the room and the great gathering of elves, letting them all see that the two were truly betrothed, and in love.

Pride and contentment pushed all other considerations away as Kili fairly beamed. He left his worries behind, focusing on the beauty he was lucky enough to have at his side and in his life.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Risil Blackstock posed in the doorway, one arm raised against the frame, causing her figure to be shown advantageously. She looked around at all the dwarrow who just 'happened' to be nearby in the wide hallway. Some stared, others were politely looking up at the ceiling. All were paying attention. The foreign dam's smile turned sultry as she looked back inside Nori's chambers when he was residing in Erebor rather than Dale. "I look forward to any time spent with you." Her voice was like velvet. For good effect she caught her coppery tinted bottom lip with her teeth, her eyes sparkling as she turned. Risil swept from the area, leaving whispers and gossip, disapproval, and yes, a desire that she look at them in such a way, in her wake.

Sealyn Heavyaxe glowered, feeling inadequate and rather plain as she didn't know how to put on such airs. She reeled on Nori, expecting him to apologize or look for forgiveness. He stared at her grimly, then tilted his chin toward the door.

Something dark roared through her. Her softly rounded chin rose as she turned and swept out of the door, inwardly wincing that she was duplicating Risil but she wasn't going to be where she wasn't ….

"Eeep!" The sound pulled out of her was sharp and surprised as Sealyn felt her arm being taken and yanked back inside Nori's room. He let her go long enough to slam his door, effectively leaving them in private.

"I meant shut the door, not leave."

"You have one good arm, and I have two." She hissed. "I can get by you and it's improper to be alone …." Another sound tried to escape her but it was lost when Nori took his unbound arm and wrapped his hand behind her neck. The kiss was quick, possessive in the extreme, and left her red-faced. Panting and a bit shocked, she stared up at him. "What?"

"A few things. Improper to be alone long." Nori spoke quickly but clearly. "The kiss is to let you know where you stand in my heart and that hurt look you wear like a bruise is misplaced. The Blacklock dam has no interest in me, it's a ruse to gain the king's ear without appearing to do so. I am trusting you with this." His eyes were fairly fierce as he told her this.

Swallowing nervously, Sealyn nodded. "You don't have the king's ear." She stammered, then felt like a fool when one of his eyebrows rose high on his forehead. "She said she didn't believe your distance from the crown."

Nori neither confirmed nor denied.

Sealyn's mind raced. If this wasn't about seducing a dwarrow to get back at her or Erelinde, or even for financial gain, it was political. And she'd stumbled into it like a blundering fool. There were several ways she could react, ask questions and demand answers. She could throw a fit. Instead Sealyn thought about it all then nodded firmly. She gave him a look full of apology. "What do I need to do?"

He grunted, looking proud that she didn't need any more of an explanation, but trusted him. "Act angry with me." She was a sharp one, she'd know what he meant.

She made a face but nodded. "Easy enough. I am. Does this mean you'll be spending time with her?"

He grunted in a way to show he was less than enthused, which helped soothe her nerves. "Be angry enough so that you look at other dwarrow, perhaps speak with some?" His voice trailed off.

Sealyn didn't wear his beads, as she'd been waiting for her father's arrival in Erebor in order to find out what he thought of Nori as a suitor. She was free to speak with any unattached dwarf and seek his attention. "Mean. Leading them on, what if I find I like one of them?"

"I faced a dragon, a rival would be ground beneath my boots." He promised, making her heart soar lightly with the possessive tone. "Play it the way you see best, but be angry and jealous."

"Is she worth it?" Sealyn couldn't help asking. Before today's revelations she'd not been exactly sure of Nori, or if he would be a worthwhile husband. Then Risil had marched in here and the thought of losing him had cut Sealyn deeply, exposing how much she really did care. "This had better be worth it."

"Better be." Nori echoed her as he scowled and shook his head. "You interrupted us before I got more than a bare bones."

Embarrassed, she flushed. "I couldn't let her swan her way in here and turn your head."

Nori gave her a chiding look, as if to say she should have known better.

"I'm sorry." The dam sighed, even as she reached for the door. "For much, but mostly for not seeing through your ruse in the first place." She opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

Nori followed her, looking stoic and stone-faced as he watched her stalk away as if in a high temper. In the middle of the hallway, and in front of a lot of nosy observers, Sealyn turned and gave him a brittle smile. The dam made a sweeping hand gesture with both palms brushing together, effectively announcing that he'd been dismissed from her life. Whispers increased exponentially, buzzing around the hallway as she tilted her chin upwards. "Thank you for the lesson, that dwarrow simply cannot be trusted."

Nori blinked. Oh, she was good. No need for a shouting match, but an allusion to some argument. She provided no details, which meant that the specifics of their 'argument' would grow in the imaginations of those around them and spread throughout the mountain like wildfire. If she'd said she was upset that he'd entertained Risil Blackstock, many would think her exaggerating or overreacting. But to leave it vague like that? It kept them from having to invent stories and coordinate them.

Nori watched as the expressions of a few dwarrow turned toward him in sympathy, while making note of the ones that watched Sealyn leave with speculation in their eyes. He didn't like this, not one bit. But Risil Blacklock had hinted at some very dire things.

He didn't trust Risil, not even a little. But his gut told him there was real fear in the dam, beneath the veneer of the aggressive ambition. Nori wasn't one for ignoring his instincts.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili loved the surprised looks on the faces of many of the elves when he smoothly transitioned from one dance move to the other without tripping over his feet. Tauriel's hand was firm in his own, with strength but no callouses. How was her skin so soft even after centuries of hard work with weaponry? If it was an elf thing then why did he have roughened skin built up on his hands and fingers from swords and bow strings?

He tugged, she spun close enough to fill his nostrils with her scent. Nothing artificial, just the clean sweetness that was all hers. He grinned full out as he slid to the left of his partner, one hand trailing suggestively across the small of her back.

Kili peeked up at her face, loving the blushy rose and wondered how much was the dance, and how much was him?

The music rose and fell in a crashing crescendo that left the dancers breathless and smiling. Kili clapped his hands until realizing he was the only one and the others were giving him odd looks. Oh. Fine. He grimaced, shrugged, and finished clapping. "Approval." He muttered to a tall elf beside him.

The dark-haired elf gave him a look of acceptance and bowed his head lightly. At least no one was laughing, well they were, but all around the party and not at him specifically.

Tauriel tentatively clapped twice experimentally, very lightly. She smiled had Kili and he beamed back at her. "Come." She pulled on his arm, leading him over to where Balin was standing with the twins and drinking wine punch. The drink was too sweet for him and he wished there was ale.

His wish came true as Elrohir held up a mug. Kili's eyes lit up as he laughed, accepting the drink in good humor. He would have chugged it if not for the watchful eyes of nearly every elf in attendance. The prince was being judged on his manners and much as he would have loved to shove their noses in it, he drank rather politely instead. He didn't give a crap what they thought of him, but there was his father and Tauriel to consider.

He finished off the ale with relish and a small gasp with a grin attached. "Another."

Elrohir laughed and looked around for a servant. Kili shook his head. "Dance! Another dance."

"It denotes certain things to dominate a lady's time all evening." Elladan groaned, then smiled a bit palely. "Which bothers you not at all."

Kili shook his head. Nope, not even a little bothered.

Balin reached for Tauriel's hand and bowed. "Well. I practiced those dance moves too and would love a chance to test my new skill. May I?"

The red-head's eyes gleamed with pleasure as she returned the bow and followed the dwarrow onto the dance floor.

"Skewered by my own kin!" Kili chuckled without hurt. He looked around and caught more than one eye turned in their direction. Speculatively he leaned in toward his uncle. "Why don't you dance with one of these lovely maids?"

Elrohir crossed his eyes at his nephew, who grinned outrageously. "After our spat with the king, not sure that I would be welcomed by the pretties here." He demurred.

Kili coughed in surprised laughter. "Call them the pretties and it's no wonder. Dams are far more than mere decoration, uncle." He cautioned with a smirk.

"Scamp." Elrohir nodded with a small bow of his head. "Given our ages, what makes you so bold as to advise me?"

Elladan listened with amusement, hearing the teasing in both voices. He marveled at the changes in their relationships all brought about by the advent of a half-dwarven son. His brother was losing that stiff formality and caution that had plagued him ever since having to take charge and live for both twins, returning to his usual, and not always reserved, self. Here he was, smiling and enjoying the company of others and not focusing on simply putting one breath after another in a semblance of living. And Kuilaith. Teasing them without fear or resentment, nearly at ease in the presence. It truly was a fine night.

"Oh well. Considering that in 77 years I've gained a betrothed, and after nearly three thousand you're sitting on the sideline looking on." Kili slid home the point with a grand flourish of an arm wave and a half-bow.

Elrohir laughed and scoffed, but properly put in his place he walked over to a group of she-elves and within moments was leading her onto the dance floor.

Elladan smiled. Not that long ago Elrohir would have been loath to leave him on his own. He truly had been a burden to his twin and he regretted that. "You're 78." He couldn't help but correct.

Kili sighed and chuckled all at the same time, shaking his head. "Elven math."

Math was the same in both cultures, it was simply a matter of county years from conception versus from birth. Dwarven or Elvish custom. Elladan let it go, not needing to press home the point.

"You look stronger." Kuilaith said quietly.

His father nodded. "I feel such, though not up to dancing." For many reasons, and not just because he was still recovering from near death. Elladan would never dance again, not after Bainnid's passing.

As if sensing his father's resolve, Kili sent him a sideways look. "Don't think you can forget all the steps. You still have to dance at my wedding."

"With your mam?" Elladan's eyebrows rose.

Kili froze for a second, then gave a mock shudder. "Hmm. Actually, I spoke without thinking. I just meant in general. I do have other female relatives though you have not met such. Cousins mostly. Older. Well, older than me, not you obviously. Probably Erelinde." His expression drooped bit at the mention of the white-blonde beauty.

Elladan correctly guessed the shift in his son's thoughts. "Fili is more than likely building Erebor up as fast as he can with his own bare hands to get you home soon. In between, in the rare moments that he rests, Erelinde will be spoon feeding him from her clever crafter hands and wiping his brow. Your brother will be wearing her beads before the winter is out."

Kili forced himself to loo up, an empty ache in and around his heart when he thought about Fili and the fact that they weren't together on this venture. "They're not safe."

"They're as safe as you could make them." Elladan reassured him. "Leaving Erebor was the most selfless thing you could have done and although I question your plan, I don't question your motives. When you love, it is with your whole heart."

"That is love. If it isn't with your whole heart, it's not really love." Kuilaith gave him a questioning look.

Elladan paused, then nodded. He marveled at the person his son was and how generous in spirit. "Kuilaith."

"Mmmm." Kili had turned back to watch Balin make a misstep, sending Tauriel turning the wrong way. Both were laughing and enjoying themselves tremendously and the other elves seemed understanding rather than upset. "What?"

Elladan shook his head. "Go rescue her from Balin before he steals her from you." He said, not telling his son how very well named he was. Someone who inspired joy in others. There wasn't another name more suiting for this child of many bloods. Oh, well yes. Kili. It might not have the same meaning, but he'd noticed something in the short time he'd been in residence within Erebor. None of the dwarves said Kili's name without feeling. There was humor, exasperation, love, disapproval, and even joy. But nothing shallow, nothing dismissive. Kili or Kuilaith, he inspired feelings in all those around him, deep feelings.

Balin huffed and puffed and joined the tall elf, who handed him a cup of punch. They both watched the dancers spin by in companionship, both remembering their lost loves and thinking of loved ones still with them.

"Kuilaith worries over his brother." Elladan said quietly, many minutes later.

Balin nodded. "He would. But no worries. Kili courts his lass, and Fili courts his own. Yes, there is much wrong in the world, so it's nice to see the things that are right."

Tauriel's laugh rang out over the dance floor as Kili added an unnecessary flourish to a move that was both amusing and endearing both at the same time.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili poked at his food in a manner that the baked fish didn't deserve. Dis frowned and looked over at her brother. Thorin was eating without looking as he read over yet another bunch of paperwork.

Dis frowned and caught Gloin's eye. Her cousin gave her a solid stare as if asking what she wanted him to do about it. Ever since his wife had gone to Wait, Gloin just wasn't his usual self. Not that she'd expected less, but his emotional stiffness worried her.

Little Gimli shifted in his seat, looked up at his father and then boldly reached over and shifted Thorin's plate to the side. The king didn't notice.

Dis watched as he speared with his fork, finding nothing. Her eyebrows rose when Thorin brought the empty utensil up to his mouth and even began to chew. She propped her chin on her hand and waited as he frowned, blinked, then looked down at his plate.

His eyes moved to her as if none other could possibly be the culprit.

Dis rolled her eyes in Fili's direction.

Thorin frowned at her, nearly a scowl. He didn't have time for games. He used his fork to drag his plate back and take another bit of food. They didn't have much right now and were being careful for the harsher months ahead. He ate two more bites then stopped. Sapphire eyes slid back to his crown prince, taking in the morose look on his face.

"Your brother is fine." Thorin grunted.

Fili said nothing.

The king's frown deepened, finally he sighed. "What did you do to her?"

Fili's face clouded, not even pretending to misunderstand. "What makes you think I did anything to her?"

Dis pursed her lips. Of course. She'd put the mood down to one brother missing the other, and that was indeed part of it most likely. The other part was a certain dwarrowdam, who wasn't at dinner with them. "Is she crafting and ignoring you?"

Fili's eyes slid away from his mother, drawing her immediate suspicion. "What did you do?"

The blond prince slammed his fork down on the table, his eyes blazing. "What makes you all so certain the fault lies with me?"

A rusty chuckle, surprisingly from Gloin, drew everyone's attention. "Lad." A world of meaning in that one word showing that no one at the table was fooled.

Thorin lifted his fork and rudely pointed it at his heir, it still held a bit of flaky fish. "If you were angry then it would be her fault. You're brooding. It's yours." He shrugged and ate the food still on his fork, chewing calmly.

Fili sat back in his seat, despondent. "She won't listen!"

Gimli sighed sadly, thinking of his mam and how she'd say similar things over the years about his father. He missed her. Looking up he caught Dis' sympathetic look, he ducked his head, embarrassed. Beside him, Gloin put his hand on his son's arm in support.

"Apologize." Gloin told him.

Thorin frowned. "No. Erelinde needs to hear him out."

Everyone looked toward Dis, who pulled a face. "Depends. What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Fili waved his hands around dramatically. "Risil Blacklock was sniffing around for information and I just wanted to know what Erelinde had told her. She says nothing." His voice indicated he was unsure. "I offered to have someone with her to keep such nuisances away."

Thorin grunted. "Reasonable." Everyone else nodded, even Dis though much slower than the males. "What?"

His sister shrugged. "Erelinde probably thinks Fili doesn't trust her."

"She's an untried stripling who's never had to deal in politics." Gloin burped, pressing a fist to his chest as he winced. Gimli nodded, backing up his father and cousin automatically.

"I'm not saying she's right, but that's probably why she's upset." Dis explained.

"Lass has got to grow thicker skin if she ever hopes to sit a throne." Dismissed Thorin as he shook out his papers, going back to reading. "Don't have time to deal with bruised feelings."

Dis smiled wanly. "And that's the problem. Erelinde doesn't really care about the throne. She's not looking to gain one, unlike the Blacklock lass. She only wants Fili, not all the mess that comes with him." She shrugged. "Lovely, if naïve. I'll chat with her."

Fili stiffened.

Dis' eyes sharpened as she raised her brows at her first born. "If you allow." It was a huge moment, letting Fili decide what was best instead of the parent. It was a gesture, a reaching out after their recent troubles between the two of them.

Uneasy, Fili blinked. He really didn't want his mam interfering, and although he'd forgiven her, there were still things that troubled him. He looked over and found his uncle watching him, but not telling him what to do either. Fili sighed and gave a short nod. "Just ….it's a delicate edge, mam."

"My doubts disappeared in the rubble." Dis told him quietly, speaking of the recent destruction and the aftermath. Telling him that she accepted his choice in courtship.

Fili started to smile when Nori walked in, interrupting them.

Thorin looked up, surprised to see this particular cousin. They were pretending to be on the outs. "Nori."

The ginger-bearded warrior looked around the room, settling his gaze on young Gimli, and surprisingly, the Lady Dis. He turned his gaze back to the king in a meaningful manner, cocking an eyebrow as he did so.

Thorin grunted, considered what he knew of Nori and the dwarrow was no alarmist. If he felt it important, it probably was. "We can go back to my room."

Dis shook her head as she rose from the table, gesturing for Gimli to follow. "We'll leave you to whatever it is." She excused herself without question, and without hurt for being left out. She was too used to dwarven politics, something she'd have to discuss with Erelinde.

Gimli appeared less than enthused not to be included, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut and trust his elders. Almost. "I could help."

Gloin patted Gimli on the back and leaned in, pressing their foreheads together in a sign of support and approval. "If help is needed, you will be first on my list."

Gimli bobbed his head, placated at the moment as he hurried after the departing princess.

"Fine lad." Nori commented approvingly. "Grand beard." The compliment didn't just cover actual facial hair, but denoted that a dwarfling was turning out well and that a family should be proud.

"Indeed." Thorin said absently, his intense gaze on Nori, who was still standing. "More orcs?"

"Risil Blacklock."

Fili cursed and thumped his fist heavily on the table. "Can I throw her out?"

"You rescued her and brought her home to Erebor." Thorin couldn't help but remind him. "Like a stray puppy."

"What's she done?" Gloin asked gruffly, picking at his teeth in a way that his wife wouldn't have approved of if she were around.

"Wants to meet with the king, private." Nori held up his hands as all three of the other dwarrow immediately protested or simply said something rude and negative. "She got an outside message."

Thorin froze. All messages to and from Erebor went through his office. "Ori?"

Nori shook his head without hesitation. "She says not, and I believe her in this at least. Also, she doesn't believe our ruse. Came to me to get to your ear. Doesn't want to be seen talking to you."

Fili's frown turned thoughtful as he mulled that over.

Gloin coughed. "Doesn't sound right. She's ambitious, wants to be seen courting the king I should think."

Fili shook his head, getting there first. "Who doesn't she want seeing her talk to Thorin? Not any of the Longbeards, assuredly."

Pointing at the crown prince, Nori nodded. Thorin sat back, his mind spinning this way and that. "Could be a ruse just to get close to me. Assassination, drugging me, influence peddling …she's not above any of that."

"Oh come, she's a dam." Fili snorted.

The other males shared looks between them. Thorin coughed and shook his head at his sister-son. "And that explains why Erelinde isn't speaking with you."

"Didn't say she's not speaking." Fili muttered, abashed.

"Same difference." Gloin pushed the matter aside as trivial. "Thorin?"

The question was, what would the king do now? Unfortunately, the monarch in question wasn't entirely sure. He looked up at Nori. "You've had this information the longest, your take?"

Nori paused. His chest expanded, a bit painfully due to the broken clavicle, but prideful too. He followed Thorin, but this was something new, the king seeking his take on something important. "She seemed fearful beneath all her posturing. Could be a ruse, a play of some kind. If Balin were here, I'd say have him meet with her."

Thorin grunted. He wished for Balin as well. Ori was a fine lad, but green and not up for this. He'd already seen how the Blacklock lass twisted the younger dwarrow around her fingers to get her way.

"Dwalin?" Gloin asked.

Thorin shook his head before even making the decision. Finally he sighed. "She and Dwalin have butted heads in the past. Cousin, I think it needs to be you."

Gloin blinked. He didn't feel ready. "I won't be polite."

Thorin grinned. "Luckily I don't care."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	76. In which Gloin makes a mistake

"What are you playing at?"

Risil hadn't been entirely sure of some of her guesswork, until now. Vividly outlined eyes dipped down to stare at the bruising hand on her upper arm, then rose up to stare at the face of the one who dared. Jekes. One of the fine dwarven warriors loyal to the Blacklock clan. Or maybe not.

The stout and barrel-chested dwarrow met her glare for glare and instead of letting up, his grip tightened. Risil did not give him the satisfaction of a painful reaction, no matter how much it hurt. "Step back." She said plainly and without raising her voice. "I have given you no such leave."

Jekes eyes flared with some unspoken emotion, but only for a second and then he let her go with a hissed apology that lacked even a drop of sincerity. "There is a plan." He reminded her.

"I thought you had not read my message?" The dam alluded to the letter sent to her, purportedly by her missing brother. The one that this dwarrow had told her had been unopened.

Jekes paused, then grunted. "I had my own message." He finally said. "And you have a part to play, one that does not include seducing a rich husband. There are more important things in play." He at least seemed to discount that there would be any other reason to seek out Nori. Good.

Risil let him look at her in disgust, and with some desire as well. Complicated creatures, males. No. Not really. They wanted what they wanted, when they wanted it. The only complications were on how they went about attaining their goals. Jekes didn't like her looking at Nori, but she'd given him no encouragement to look in her direction. So. He was growing bold? Or perhaps she was the carrot lofted in front of his nose? Risil wrinkled her nose, or maybe she was reading too much into things. There were knots of plans and plots and all was growing tangled.

The dwarrowdam blinked slowly, letting none of her racing thoughts escape her control over her expressions. Stoically she smiled. "If I did nothing, they would be more suspicious of me. If I am to do as requested, they must think nothing is amiss."

It was Jekes' turn to blink as he gave a disagreeing sound, but not forcefully. "Perhaps. But you hold the lives of many in your pretty hands. Don't let your petty ambitions climb over your duty, and your clan."

Risil's eyebrows arched over her dark gaze as she gave him a cold stare. "I am all that is Blacklock." She asserted with very real affront. "My allegiance is ever with my family. Family is something that I would never betray, on any day, or in any circumstance."

And there it was. Risil wasn't lying. But did Jekes take her words as literal? Did he trust her? 'Family' was a term that could be used for immediate connections, or in her case, the entirety of the Blacklock clan. Such was the roles of leadership and blood. But right now, the only family Risil recognized was Himlis. She was loyal to her brother only, so tight was her focus.

"See this through and you will be reunited with your family." He nodded at her and walked away.

Risil refrained from rubbing the harsh sting from her arm, in case she was still being watched.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Balin bowed graciously as he offered the wine goblet to Tauriel as the she-elf fanned her heated face with a laughing smile. "I have never seen you flush with exertion."

"I have never danced so much in all my life." Tauriel admitted, surprised to find this to be true. Elrohir and Balin, several old friends, and even one stately and sedate circle dance with King Thranduil, much to her shock. But it was Kili who'd kept her out on the dance floor for nearly the entire night and on into the morning.

"It is good to see the lad laughing and enjoying himself." Balin sipped at his wine, his eyes sparkling with approval.

They both watched as Kili took one end of a ribbon and moved through the intricate steps with his dance partner, a lovely she-elf with a kind smile.

Balin grinned. "How did you manage this brief respite?"

Tauriel grinned right back at him. "I promised him a kiss later." Her eyes met his boldly, as if daring the white-haired dwarrow to disapprove. "She is a friend of long standing who was wary of my choice and worried for me."

"Ah." Balin nodded without any hint of reproach. "You seek to allay her worries. Indeed, she is smiling and appears to be enjoying the dance." He paused for a moment. "This does not bother you?"

Tauriel shrugged with a soft look at her beloved as he moved through the dance steps. "It's a ribbon dance. They don't touch at all."

"Ah." Balin grinned with approval and lifted his wine toward her. "Well played."

They watched companionably for a moment before Tauriel tilted her head slightly. The movement made her nashatal braid catch the light prettily. A very Dwarven symbol in this very Elven place. "You don't mind?"

Balin burped discreetly and shook his head. "It's you that would have the only right to disapprove if Kili danced with another."

"Of me, promising him a kiss." She said in a whisper, lowering her voice with each word until the last was almost mouthed only.

The dwarrow gave her a slightly surprised look, then a soft smile teased his lips as he stroked his beard. "Well now. You share three beads. As far as Dwarves are concerned, all is well. I'm not sure how Elladan would feel, however." He said, mentioning Kili's father who was outside on a balcony with the king right now.

Tauriel grimaced, but nodded.

Suddenly Balin's mouth opened slightly and he coughed. "You did say you knew what the third bead meant in our culture? Yes?"

Tauriel relaxed a bit as she smiled. "Aye. I asked Kili to marry me."

Balin worried his bottom lip with his teeth a moment, looking around to see who was about. Elves had such damnable good hearing. He moved back into a nook where they could speak more privately.

Tauriel recognized the invitation without a word being spoken. She tossed a look back over at her love and saw him laugh at a stumbled step. Not his. She smiled and followed Balin, giving him a look to let him know she understood he wanted some privacy for whatever needed saying.

"You no longer have chaperones." The dwarf told her, giving her an expectant look.

"Yes." Tauriel acknowledged. She'd known that.

Balin didn't look convinced that she understood his meaning. He made a slight grimace and rubbed his nose absently. "Oh dear. Bifur. Did Bifur speak with you about this?"

Tauriel shook her head. "Well. He spoke to me and gave me some gifts for the journey. Made sure I was well supplied and armed. He had Bombur translate for him, as I am afraid that I don't understand all that he says." She blushed a bit at the admission.

Balin waved off the comment. "Yes, yes. But did he mention anything about …well, did he mention any dwarrowdam?"

Tauriel blinked, unsure. "No. Well. Yes. He said something about there being plenty of time and yet he couldn't wait for me to meet Bombur's wife when she arrived in Erebor. That she'd teach me how to make shoes."

Balin stared at her. "Shoes?" He said, stumbling over the word.

Tauriel shrugged. "He seemed keen on the idea. Though Bombur was starting to mumble a bit by then too."

"He's a bit shy." The dwarf said absently, hanging his head down. "First Kili and now you. Why me? Why?"

"Balin?"

The white-haired dwarrow sighed and looked up. "Shoes? Bombur's wife is a dear, but she doesn't make shoes or boots worth a penny jot."

Tauriel shrugged helplessly. "Cobbler. He told me …."

"Ah." Balin looked up with relief. "Yes, that is a maker of shoes, but in our culture it's also a dish. A food dish with fruit and crust."

"A pie?" Tauriel shook her head in confusion.

"Similar, perhaps." Balin sighed, closing his eyes as he winced and took a deep breath. "Lass. The important information was that Bifur wants you to meet Bombur's wife, Irrelis."

"He mentioned her and cobbler." She blushed a bit to realize she'd misunderstood something apparently important. "Is this another gift bestowal I have to make? A pie?"

"No. Well. No." Balin took in a deep breath. "When Bombur and Irrelis exchanged the third bead, she made him a lot of cobblers and was forever going to visit him with the excuse of baking for him."

Thinking of the rotund dwarrow in question, Tauriel was rather of the opinion that Bombur had eaten quite a few of these fruit dishes that were pie-like.

Reading her expression correctly, Balin coughed out a laugh and nodded. "Yes, I'm sure they were eaten. But they were an excuse."

"For what?"

"Kissing. And other things." Balin said suggestively, his tone hinting at more private activities.

Tauriel blushed. "I don't understand." She admitted.

Balin sighed. "I think I find this more embarrassing than you do."

"I doubt it." Tauriel scanned the area around them to see if any were paying them heed.

"The third bead." Balin squared his shoulders. "No chaperones. Because after that last bead it becomes the dam's duty to wake up her potential husband. She is introduced to a married dam and instructed on how to go about this. Sometimes her mother, but never the groom's so don't be worried about dealing with Dis."

Tauriel's mouth opened, but nothing came out. She snapped her jaw shut and shook her head.

Balin gave her an apologetic look. "Bifur probably thought you understood. He is giving the honor of instructing you to family, his sister-by-marriage. Irrelis. He probably believes that since Kili's mixed heritage is keeping the lad from waking up proper for many years that there is plenty of time."

"So his talk about cobblers wasn't about shoes or pies?"

"Most likely not." Balin sighed again, giving the tall she-elf a sympathetic look. "The honor usually is someone close to the bride, but circumstances are different because ….well."

"I'm an elf." Tauriel bit her lip and shook her head. "Oh how tangled."

"Bifur and Bombur do you a great honor, introducing you to a dam within their family." Balin nodded. "It really is a mark of high esteem."

"I will have to thank him." Tauriel moaned.

"Only a small gift would be needed." Balin commented, then drew back at her sharp look. He laughed at her chagrin. "We do tend to give a lot of gifts back and forth in our society."

"Do gifts ever get reused by mistake?" The she-elf asked absently.

Balin though took the question seriously and whistled low. "Feuds have started over such." He warned her.

"Ah." Tauriel took note of that fact. "I will endeavor never to let such happen. So. I am supposed to seduce Kili?"

Balin blushed and Tauriel looked away.

"If I succeed we will be married by my culture." She finally said, still not looking at the dwarf.

Balin nodded though she wasn't watching. "If you succeed the wedding would be scheduled by ours."

"The healers said it would take years." She reminded him.

Balin nodded sagely. "We know. Sometimes such things do take years. We are stone, after all. Long engagements are not unknown to us."

Tauriel nodded stiffly.

"Lass." Balin took pity on her. "Do not worry overmuch on this. Kili's heritage means that you have years before he will be physically ready. You can get on with kissing and holding hands for as long as you would like. There is no pressure and no judgement."

They both knew that this wasn't exactly true. Every dwarrow who noted she had three beads would know what she and Kili were up to when alone. And they'd know she wasn't succeeding in waking him up.

Tauriel stood there, silent as the music slid to the next dance. Something lively full off leaps and spins. She watched as Kili bowed to his partner and moved away, looking over toward where he'd left her with Balin. She saw his quick frown and then the brilliant lighting of his smile exploding over his face as he caught sight of her now.

Kili bounded over toward them with far too much energy for someone who'd been dancing all evening.

Tauriel stiffened and excused herself as needing to refresh herself, moving toward the lavatories.

Kili's eyes turned puzzled as he cast a quick look at Balin who wasn't meeting his eyes. "What?"

Balin held up his empty glass and muttered something about a refill. He moved off too.

Kili looked back and forth between the two as they departed in different directions. He scratched the back of his head and wondered what had just happened. Calculating quickly, he took off after Tauriel.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"You're not the king."

"Observant." Gloin's voice was hard as granite, and his eyes not much softer.

Risil dropped the teasing smile that had been playing across her lips. "I had expected an audience."

"You get me." Gloin turned his back on her dismissively and filled a mug with ale. He did not offer her a drink nor a seat.

Left standing, the red-bearded dwarrow was putting her in her place. And not kindly.

Risil stiffened, her chin lifting with challenge. Deliberately she moved over to a seat and swept her skirts out in a feminine manner before sitting down.

"You were not invited."

"I was not asking."

Gloin's eyes narrowed on her. "You sought out Nori specifically to ask."

"To warn." She corrected.

"Of what?" He spoke dismissively, as if nothing she had to impart could hold any weight.

Risil's face blanked. "I want word on my brother." She said coldly.

Gloin gave her a disapproving frown. "The king is aware. If that is all?"

"The weight of the Blacklock ire will fall upon this mountain if such news were kept from me." Risil said tightly, not liking this dwarf, not even a little. She would be sharing nothing with him.

Gloin grunted and dismissed her with a hand gesture that was for servants or pets.

Risil's eyebrows rose. "Enjoy your drink." She said sweetly.

Gloin, reminded that she'd almost slipped a concoction into the king's ale, hesitated and eyed his mug suspiciously.

"You're not worth my effort." Risil swept out of the room.

"Stupid chit." Gloin muttered and deliberately drained his mug to show he did not fear her.

Risil marched away, her cheeks reddened and her fingers curled into fists. So. Erebor treated her like an unwanted dog? Let the mountain burn for all she cared.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tauriel finished cleaning her hands and splashing cold water onto her cheeks. She left the area set aside for she-elves to relieve themselves and immediately spied Kili. He was leaning against an arching column carved with the relief of a tree in full bloom.

Her breath caught and she looked shocked.

Kili's eyes widened and he spread his hands. "What?"

"That carving is to represent Telperion." She pointed at the column upon which he leaned.

Straightening quickly, Kili cast a suspicious look at the carving as he curled his lip. "Coincidence." He said of one of the two trees of Valinor, the silver one. The one from which Tilion had taken its final fruit and guarded it to this day, the moon itself.

Nervously Kili moved away from it and toward her. "Something bothers you? You were the one to urge me to dance with your friend."

She waved off the comment as that is not what was bothering her.

Kili frowned. "Did someone insult you?"

Tauriel's green eyes rolled at him and he grimaced. Such would not have caused her much upset. She'd been through much worse already.

"Balin?" The dark-haired prince asked, though he doubted the source of the trouble to be his friend and cousin. She didn't respond. Kili stilled. "Balin?" He asked more incredulously. "He likes you."

"He is ….kind." Tauriel admitted, then looked down at her hands. "And informative."

Kili waited.

Tauriel took a moment, then nodded. "I told him I had promised you a kiss and he did not mind."

Kili waited some more, when she didn't speak he cleared his throat. "We share three beads. No, he wouldn't mind."

"Because I'm supposed to be trying to wake you up?" She said with a furious blush, her words said in a soft rush of sound.

"Oh." Kili blinked several times then he grinned in invitation.

She swatted his shoulder and hurried by him. He caught up with her, moving quickly. She stopped. He stopped. They stared at one another.

"I didn't know I was supposed to be doing anything." She said it almost accusingly.

Kili's face clouded. "Bifur didn't say anything?"

"I can't understand him!" She yelped with a wave of her hands.

He laughed.

She swatted his other shoulder with more emphasis.

"Ow." He said, though not flinching as she'd not actually hurt him. Kili grinned and winked at her. "I'd rather be kissing."

She crossed her eyes and he laughed at her. Tauriel started to turn away and Kili snagged her hand, pulling her to a halt as he tugged her closer.

"Love."

"I didn't know the Dwarven customs and I don't know how to feel about any of this."

"Good thing I'm not really fully Dwarven then." Kili said, then grimaced at his own words. "Truth is, we don't have a custom. I'm a new race basically and all of this isn't Elven at all. So. We have to clear our own path, a new one just for us."

Tauriel settled and took her free hand to run it down the side of Kili's face. He turned automatically into her touch, nestling his lips into her palm in a loving caress. Her breath hitched and he smiled against her hand.

"You do seduce me." Kili told her in a heated whisper. "With every glance, every touch, every scold, every time you breath, and every time you move. You blink and I'm seduced. You chew your food and I faint."

"Chew?" She protested.

Kili gave her a cross look to let her know not to interrupt. "You twitch a toe, or sharpen a blade, it doesn't matter. You seduce me by being here. No, not even that. The thought of you seduces me. You could be a thousand miles away."

She smiled at his earnestness.

Kili frowned again. "I take that back, don't be a thousand miles away." He pleaded in a teasing manner.

"Fool." She leaned in and pressed her lips just beneath his right ear.

Being no fool, Kili immediately turned and captured her lips with his own. Their mouths tasted and teased each other, clinging together in the softly drugging kiss. When they at last parted, both smiled.

"That's not the kiss you promised me though, I still want another for that dance." Kili protested with a husky voice full of promise.

"There is so much to learn." She protested very softly, wonder in her voice as she traced his lips with her thumb and marveled at the feel of his facial hair. Every time she touched him it was a revelation.

"Then it's a good thing we have time." Kili wrapped an arm around her. "Love don't worry about Dwarven traditions and not knowing them, I'm equally on unsure footing with Elven traditions."

"I didn't even know that regifting something given to you could cause insult." She admitted.

Kili stiffened and his eyes widened. "What? Who? Alright, we can deal with this. Just let me know what you gave and to whom. We can negotiate something."

Her hands moved to capture his face between her palms. "No one. It was just one scenario. I won't do that. I only mention this as I don't know all the rules on gifting."

Kili blinked. He gave her a hopeful look. "You didn't do it?"

"No."

The dwarven prince blew out a relieved breath. "Good. Alright. I think we need to teach you about the rules of gift-giving and receiving first of all. Balin. We need Balin."

"You." She corrected him softly.

"Oh, Balin is a far better teacher." Kili asserted.

"No. I mean I want to be alone with you first." Tauriel told him.

That stopped Kili who suddenly grinned outrageously wide. The sight made her lose her breath, and nearly her mind.

"I love your smile." She said, then proceeded to kiss him again.

Seduce him? Tauriel had been daunted by the very idea, but if they took it one kiss at a time, then maybe this might work. She felt his arms close around her and she sighed happily.

But when one hand dipped down farther than her hip she pulled back and looked down into his rather smug face. "You did say something about seducing me, yes?" He teased.

Tauriel blinked at him then deliberately reached for his bottom. Dark eyes shot open wide with delight and shock. "And if I run my hand around to the front?"

Kili nearly doubled over as crazed itching pushed past his training and his shields. "I yield, I yield!" He yelped, backing up, letting her go and holding up his hands in surrender. "You fight dirty. Wait. Where are you going?"

"Somewhere where we can be alone." Tauriel said in a sensual drawl that had the hairs all over Kili's body standing up and begging for attention. Well. Not ALL over, unfortunately. "Unless you can't handle that?"

Kili's mouth dropped open and he coughed, sputtered really. He watched her move, his eyes falling to the gentle slope of her hips and then he nearly swallowed his tongue.

Could he handle this? His body, usually at a dull ache with an accompanying itch, he'd learned to suppress pretty well. His training with the Lady and his father had helped with that. It was only with more overt thoughts, dreams or actions, that pain really swamped him now.

His body already hurt from her words, and their shared kisses. He really should beg off.

Kili grinned and gave chase. There was NO way he was begging off on this opportunity to play. "Oh darling."

o.o.o.o.o  
o.o.o.o.o

Thorin looked up as Gloin entered into his new study. "Well?"

"Nothing. Vague threats about keeping messages away from her about her brother." The red-bearded dwarrow grimaced. "There's nothing there worth worrying about."

Nori blinked. That hadn't been his take on the situation at all. But Thorin looked done with the conversation. He looked around and caught Dwalin's arrested gaze.

Dwalin and Nori stared at each other, not really reading minds as elves might, but on the same page.

Nori watched as Dwalin frowned.

"Did I ever tell the story of the fall of Gondolin?" Glorfindel interrupted lazily.

"I'm busy." Thorin said, though not rudely or unkindly.

"I would like to hear." Dwalin knew a cue when he heard one. Beyond that, he knew that Glorfindel would never speak of Gondolin or its downfall without good reason. The elf didn't speak on this subject, not willingly.

Nori didn't know the elf well, but he did know Dwalin. "Aye. I would hear as well."

Thorin frowned looking up.

"Indulge us." Dwalin invited.

Halfway to shooing them all out of the study, Thorin paused. Glorfindel began his story in an engaging voice and soon all were listening intently.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	77. In which tales are told

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The included histories in this chapter are based on my research and possibly spotty memory. However, I did not want to re-read all of the Silmarillion. Nor did I want to delve into what was original and what was edited by the heirs at a later date. For the purposes of this fic, this is the version of history that I am using.

Fili was in a vicious mood. He'd been working hard on the organization of work groups for the rebuilding of Erebor. And it wasn't that he'd seriously thought that everything could be made whole and safe again within a month, realistically he knew better. But the sheer scope of what had to be accomplished was staggering.

Smaug had been bad enough. Sauron had been worse. Erebor stood. Barely.

Fili stalked through the hallways towards his uncle's study. He really should be off duty right now, but the prince was finding it difficult to relax or rest. So, since Thorin was always working, he would just have to join the king.

Work was slow, and would take a long time to even come close to being complete. Erelinde was still upset with him, not that she'd complain, but there was a distance there that hadn't existed before. And by damned if he'd apologize! She had to recognize that he had certain duties, and one of those was to protect her. It wasn't that he looked down on her abilities, it's just that as a crafter unused to politics, she needed guidance. Why was that HIS fault?

Fili ground his jaw tightly down, the pulse at the side of his temple clearly visible to all who stepped out of his way rather than engage him in any conversation.

And Kili.

It galled him, but he couldn't help but blame himself for Kili's absence. He'd been the one to seek out Saruman for advice. He'd been the one to get trapped underground, leaving his poor brother to grieve and search for him to such an extent that he thought he had to vacate Erebor to protect him. HIM!

Logically he knew his thoughts were a muddled mess, and the blame wasn't his even a little. But if FELT like it was. Every delay, every new project that was deemed an 'urgent' or 'imperative' repair kept Kili from coming home.

And a small shameful part of him worried that Kili, left alone with his elvish family and betrothed, wouldn't need to come back to Erebor as much as Fili needed him to do so.

In the short time the elves had been here, his brother had changed so much. Filling out, growing taller, learning to use that light thingy within him.

"Fili?"

The prince drew up short, shocked. He'd been so lost in his morose thoughts he'd not realized that he'd passed the door to Thorin's new study. He blinked, startled to find Erelinde looking quizzically at him.

"I missed you at dinner." He couldn't bite back the words, inwardly feeling foolish for admitting he'd missed her presence.

Erelinde gave him a soft frown. "It was my turn on wash detail."

Fili grunted and nodded, relaxing slightly. She'd told him that yesterday, he'd forgotten. The work force in Erebor was under a grueling schedule, and things like washing clothes and blankets had been given over to others to help ease the strain. Not to mention all the rubble and grime of the collapses being hard on all the linens within the kingdom. Erelinde was in charge of repairs and washing and distribution of needed materials. "I hear you're doing a great job." Fili winced. "Not that I don't trust you do to a great job, or that I'm checking up on you."

Erelinde stepped forward, putting her hand gently on his arm. Fili stilled, his blue eyes turning hopeful at the soft look she was giving him. "I know." She shook her head lightly at him and he caught the glint of his beads in her hair. A hard knot within him started to loosen and he caught his first full, good, lungful of air in far too long. "You're upset."

Fili groaned but nodded. "Just a lot to accomplish with too little resources and too little time."

Sky-blue eyes met his and she wasn't fooled one bit. "He will be home soon, and you will have made this kingdom safe and strong."

Her confidence wiped out most of his ill mood and he chuckled in relief. "You have more confidence in me than I do." He paused. "Erelinde, I know you're capable …"

"And perhaps a bit foolish?" The dwarrowdam sighed and looked down before meeting his gaze once again. "I am new to politics, but I can handle myself in tough negotiations. Crafting isn't all sweetness and light. I am not a fool, and I just ask that you trust me."

He was forgiven, and she accepted some of the fault. Fili's world brightened quite a bit as he rolled his shoulders, finding he was suddenly exhausted, but much happier. "I will try, I just know how poisonous dwarven politics can get and I don't want to scare you off."

"Better I learn now, than after we are married." She said simply.

Fili's breath caught. She'd spoken of marriage like the matter was already settled between them. He smiled at her, giving a bow and a hand gesture of great affection and respect.

Erelinde's eyes widened with appreciation as she gave him back the appropriate response. As she straightened, she looked down the hallway where he'd been heading. "I go to find Dwalin, I've been told he's with the king. He was supposed to be teaching me this evening."

"I'm heading to Thorin's study myself." Fili told her, offering her his arm.

Erelinde gave him a disbelieving look and glanced pointedly at the direction he'd come, and where he'd been heading. "You're going the wrong way." She said blandly.

Fili had no desire to explain to her his preoccupation or walking right past his destination without even knowing it. He simple jostled his arm in invitation and smiled winningly at her.

Erelinde swatted his arm lightly, then slipped hers into his, letting him lead the way. "You know, Kili probably had a better meal than we did. Tonight's soup was rather bland though the bread was fresh at least. And he is safer where he is."

Fili's early worries faded away into nothingness as he nodded. "The piker. Harking off when there is a tone of work to be done. I wonder what Elves serve for dinner?"

"You were at the palace." She reminded him.

"As a prisoner." Fili scoffed, then shrugged. "Actually, the food they offered even in the cells was tastier than tonight's soup. I'll look into reassigning the cooking crew that was on tonight."

Erelinde nodded and stepped closer to his side to avoid being bumped by a few warriors walking the other way.

Fili's arm went around her protectively and she didn't shy away. Nor did she make him relinquish his hold. His evening was definitely improving.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili moved swiftly through the hallways of the Woodland palace, keeping up with Tauriel's long-legged pace. He was trusting her to know where she was going, because he wasn't watching. His darkly heated eyes were glued to her hips and backside as she moved with elegant grace and controlled power.

He glanced up briefly as she greeted someone, but didn't stop. Kili recognized where they were now, heading back toward their guest chambers.

Seduction. She'd mentioned seduction and the third bead. Kili's mouth was dry and his skin felt prickly with anticipation. But. Tauriel knew. The healers had said that his body wouldn't 'wake-up' in the dwarven manner for at least a decade, longer actually. Ruefully he wondered what she had planned. He'd been doing a good job keeping the pain and itching to a minimum with the use of the Eldar light within him.

Kili mused he would have been grateful for the Eldar Light, and the elvish blood, if it wasn't that very same bloodline that was keeping him from getting married in the first place! Tauriel had already told him she'd loved him as a solely Dwarven prince and his elvish blood had not been a draw for her.

His hand tightened within hers as he slid his thumb over the soft skin on the back of her own hand.

She glanced at him, her jeweled eyes bright with unspoken things. He winked, then grinned at her slight flush. "Stop looking so happy." She whispered.

Kili's smile increased immediately.

Tauriel ignored his husky chuckle that did arcane and wonderful things to her insides. Her hand tightened on his as they turned the corner back to the hallway leading to their guest rooms.

Kili snorted lightly. "If you're looking for a private and secret place, going to our rooms might defeat the purpose." Though he didn't resist when they entered her chambers, quite the opposite in fact.

Indeed, the prince looked around eagerly as Tauriel shut her door firmly, having finally let go of his hand. "Eager to be alone with me?" he teased, then sobered as he turned and caught her heated look and nod. Kili licked his lips, his eyes darkening sensually, meltingly.

"I know what Lord Elrond told you. It will be years before we can properly wed." Tauriel's voice was a husky whisper that made a certain prince shiver with longing. "It seems all of our customs are tripping over one another, making things far more complicated than they should be."

"I thought there would be less talk and more kissing." Kili teased her outrageously. He really, really didn't want to dwell on the reality of his physiology and the barriers his mixed blood represented.

One elegant eyebrow arched over a brilliant green eye. "I'm serious."

Kili's smile only grew, but the intensity in his dark eyes held heated things in their depth, not humor.

"I want to explain something to you."

Kili groaned, running a hand down the back of his hair even as he nodded. Idly he noted that his braids were still intact despite the evening's dancing and festivities. His father had done a decent job of putting them in. Huh. No. He shifted his mind back to the beautiful red-head. "The more we talk, the less we get to kiss before everyone returns from the dance." Like his father.

"Love. Please."

There was a note in her voice that tickled every nerve ending in Kili's body. His attention, and gaze, sharpened as he watched her.

Slowly, Tauriel reached up and undid a clasp on her fancy outer robe. His eyes followed her fingers. "I knew the third bead meant engaged. I even know what engaged means, a promise to wed. But in Elven society it's really not done."

Kili, his attention on the movement of her fingers as she loosened a second clasp, swallowed hard in order to moisten his over-dry throat, otherwise he'd not have been able to respond. "No engagements?"

Tauriel shrugged, letting the loosened robe slide down her shoulder. It exposed nothing as she wore several thin layers of precisely pleated silk and embroidered fabrics beneath, but the mere thought of her undressing made his body itch terribly. "A promise to marry, yes. But formal engagements? Not really. At a time arranged between a couple, they lay with each other intimately and thus are deemed husband and wife."

The silk robe slid down her shoulders to catch at the delicate bend of her elbows which Kili knew to hold more strength than outward appearance might suggest. Tauriel was still fully clothed, but there was something intimate, something boiling with heat, something awe-inspiring about the moment. A baring. Discarding of the unseen walls his Elvish training always droned on and on about. It was if she was exposing her inner soul to him by this simple act.

Kili's eyes traced the feminine outline of her body with longing. The curve of her hip made his fingers tingle, the dip of her waist made his tongue swell, the delicate curves of her bosom made him start to shake.

"Love?"

His wandering and lustful eyes rose to meet her gaze, and she was staring at him with expectation. Oh. Kili hoped he was guessing aright when he loosened the ties on his forearm bracers. He grimaced, this was not nearly as sexy as her dropping her robe, but nothing else could come off before these did. Actually, he was wearing more layers but with less weight materials, dressed in the elvish styles as he was for the evening. He felt almost naked without his leathers already.

A pressure grew within his body, pushing and aching and starting to burn. Kili had to close his eyes and pour more energy into the barriers that kept him from being swamped with the sharp ache of a body that didn't respond as it should. He shuddered.

Tauriel's voice wafted over toward him, her voice little more than a whisper but he felt so hypersensitive that he felt like he could have heard her from over a mile away. "Tell me when it is too much."

Kili swallowed hard and nodded, opening his eyes and then having to stiffen his joints to keep his knees from buckling. She'd removed an ornate belt, letting a thin layer of silk float around her loosely. Beneath was a skin-tight sheath of a gown and Kili had no idea what was beneath it, for there were no lines. Was it only she under that? Skin only?

"Kili? My love?"

The word love meant something to him, just as he knew it did for her. But it was the concern, care and longing infused into her words that had him gasping, his gaze rising to meet hers. "Don't stop." He begged.

She lifted her chin infinitesimally toward him.

Oh. Right. Kili's fingers made short work of his own outer robe and the unfamiliar ties so different than what he was used to wearing. When at last the blue fabric pooled at his feet like melted sapphires, he looked up. He bit back a groan of disappointment. She was still wearing that sheath of pale green silk. Then he nearly swallowed his tongue as he realized he could see her outline through the gown with the help of the firelight behind her.

Tauriel gauged his face and expression and began to move toward him with a goblet of wine that he couldn't remember her picking up. She held it out for him and he dutifully sipped, though his hands reached for her and not the goblet.

As much as he burned, Kili's touch was light, almost reverent. His palms cupped the curve of air just over her hips for a moment before they rested there. The heat of his hands should have warmed the cool fabric, but her gown was warm from her own internal temperature. Meaning there was nothing between her bare skin and his touch but a thin layer of silk.

A caress, two, and then Kili's poor body spasmed painfully as he sucked in a harsh breath. His lungs seized for a moment as he fervently wished for a more physical response, but despite the pressure, nothing moved. He was stone.

Tauriel shifted as if to move away. Kili's hand tightened in response, shaking his head. "No."

"You hurt."

"And I won't overcome this if I don't try." He sighed and gave her a sad smile. "And letting you go would only hurt me more."

Her worried look softened. She set aside the wine and pushed him to sit on the bed. Her bed. Kili wanted to cry. Why did he have to go through this? Wasn't life hard enough? Mordor wanted him dead. Out of everyone in Arda, in all the world, that crazed despot of insane evil wanted HIM dead. Hadn't he already left home and all he loved to protect them.

Tauriel sat beside him and Kili grimaced. Not all he loved. She was with him. Just not WITH him. His fault. "I'm sorry."

"Kili." Her voice was a caress that had his eyes nearly crossing as his itchy skin intensified. His toes curled in reaction, to the pain yes, but also to the longing. Her lips settled on the curve of his jaw.

Unable to resist, even knowing it would hurt worse, he turned and captured her lips with his own. He pressed toward her, his body shaking and his hands clenching into near fists.

Tauriel drew back and he groaned, then she shook her head. "Gentler. Not all problems can be attacked head on and at full speed."

Kili had a moment to wonder what she meant, then she showed him. Her lips met his again, but when he would have pressed his suit, she backed off. This happened one, then two more times. Finally, even his thick dwarven head seemed to catch on. He settled back, trading soft kisses not of possession or passion, but of soft* cherishing. Not sexual really, but loving.

Her hand came up to cup the side of his face, rubbing her palm over the stubble of his beard with something akin to wonder.

Unsure, Kili mirrored her move, his hand moving up to her face. He traced her delicate cheek bone with one thumb, marveling at the dewy perfection of her skin. He sighed happily.

"You don't mind the freckles?"

"I love you, and you're perfect." He chuckled at her sour look. "We discussed this, take the compliment and hold it in your heart."

Tauriel nodded softly, though she still struggled. A compliment on her weapon prowess or abilities she could handle. But being called beautiful was terribly new to her, as she did not reach the heights of Elvish perfection.

Kili could read her thoughts, not literally, but in the fleeting emotions she let shine through her eyes. Telling her wasn't good enough, he would have to show her.

Tauriel pressed small kisses to the side of his neck, nuzzling there in a manner she'd never before considered. The scent of him was so masculine, with a hint of spice and nearly metallic. Instead of turning her off, it drew her in a manner she might have found strange just a few months ago.

A pressure. Light. Seeking. Asking. Tauriel paused, then smiled against his skin. "You want to give your family heart problems?"

"They're not here, and I can't send them any images without having them around. Even accidently." He chuckled.

Tauriel thought about it, then lowered the shields around her mind enough for the message.

She should have known better.

Tauriel lost her ability to breathe as she saw herself through his eyes. Not a picture of what she looked like right now. But as he'd first seen her, in the forest, fighting a giant spider.

Helpless, she watched her own movements, but felt his response. In this image she was dressed plainly, for patrol. Her hair was not done up especially, and she wore nothing to enhance her looks. Everything she wore was for practicality and ease of movement.

Yet.

He saw her as strong, lethal, gorgeous, proud, obstinate, and appealing on every single level. Kili shared this memory with her as she blushed hotly, her face turning redder than an apple as she let him go, burying her face within her hands.

He chuckled. She hid. He tapped the back of one her hands. She shook her head to lose the contact.

"Tauriel …." He drew out her name in a whispered caress, leaning in closer.

She let go of one hand only to swat him away.

The scene in her mind faded mercifully. Only then he replaced it with another. In the cells. It disoriented her at first, seeing the bars in front of her face, keeping her locked up. Oh. Yes. His memories. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm not. Now." Kili laughingly admitted. "Perhaps then it was a difficulty. But it gave me something I'd never dreamed existed."

Tauriel saw herself again, this time in the dim torchlight of the prison cells. Standing there, her face slowly losing a stiff arrogance as she listened to him tell a story about the blood moon. Her features gentled in a way that she nearly didn't recognize on her own face.

Tauriel blinked, staring at him, only then realizing that her hands had slid down during this last shared memory. She stared at him in wonder.

"You are beautiful." He said with utter simplicity, and complete sincerity.

She stared, and then suddenly he was flat on his back and she was leaning over him on the bed. He laughed, then slowly became serious as he met her stare with one of his own. Tauriel moved down toward him, resting her lips gently upon his own.

Neither moved for a second, then two. Then he gasped slightly, as if his body had needed to remind him to breathe. This moved his lips against hers, and she responded. The kisses now were a slow tasting, a learning, and a revelation.

"I thought. I thought, it was when I healed you." She whispered between kisses, capturing his bottom lip between her teeth lightly.

His moved back so he could get his lip back and he smiled as he then lifted upwards in order to tempt her into doing that again.

"It was from the very first, and only builds with each moment I see you. No, with each moment I think of you. I don't know, all of it." Kili shrugged and stole her lips for another drugging kiss.

Tauriel lost herself in the moment until she realized he was flinching away from her hand, the one that she was running up and down his chest. "Too much?"

Kili shook his head, winced slightly, then slowly nodded. "I admit no such weakness."

"Oh?" Tauriel's hand moved down lower toward the upper part of his abdomen, her touch sensually light.

Kili hissed and sucked in his stomach in reaction, catching her hand before it could go lower. He was breathing hard now, staring up at the ceiling but not seeing anything. He pointed one foot and stretched on one side to ease the growing discomfort down between his legs. "You win."

He sounded so dejected that Tauriel tried to make light of the moment. "No worries, no one is here to witness your weakness under my touch."

Kili's head popped up and he gave her an accusing look even as he laughed. But then that laughter faded into something wistful, and sorrowful.

Tauriel ran through what she knew of her beloved and then took a guess. "Fili." She said of the one person that Kili would not want to see him being weak. Well no, that would be any of the Company, but most especially his older brother. "You made the right decision, to protect him and your uncle and the kingdom."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

He smiled sadly at the vehemence of her answer. "I want to go home. Which is silly, as Erebor hasn't been my home but for several weeks."

Tauriel leaned up, looking down at her betrothed. Her red-hair hung like a silken curtain on either side of his face, giving them the illusion of ultimate intimacy. "Home isn't a place, it's the people. Thorin, your mother, and especially Fili."

He reached out and tugged her nashatal braid. "You."

"You know what I meant."

Kili nodded soberly. "And I'm adding your name to that list. Nowhere is home anymore, not without you."

She stared at him, then leaned in and stole a kiss. Or she would have if he hadn't gifted it to her, and then some. It was several minutes lost within each other before he winced and pulled back with a dejected sigh.

Tauriel didn't back off though. She leaned in and rested the side of her face on his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. "Fast." She commented.

"Because of you." Kili replied, moving his hand around her to cradle her shoulders and keep her close. His eyes closed. He was still uncomfortable, but he wouldn't have relinquished her sweet weight for any amount of mithral in the world.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Melkor."

In the absolute quiet of the king's study, the name echoed off the stone walls even though the speaker's voice was not raised. Thorin fought back a shiver at the name, noting that everyone's attention was raptly on the golden elf sitting resplendently by the hearth. His eyes flicked to note the arrival of Fili and his dam, though they made no sound and found seats where they could.

"Brother of Manwe. The most powerful of the Ainur. Created in the Timeless Halls by Eru Iluvatar. Rebellious and dissatisfied."

Glorfindel's words drew them in, his voice a beguiling musical instrument. Thorin couldn't have imagined such a story teller. Emotion was hidden, not shared, yet it hinted at untold depths of sorrow. He found his heartbeat picking up, following the pace of the words as they were shaped.

"Where Melkor came up with his thoughts, no one knows. He was often out and away from the others. A solitary being of great wisdom and strength. What is known is that when the Ainur began the Great Music before Eru, it was corrupted. Melkor deliberately wove his ambition and dissatisfaction into the music, making Discord rise all around him. This caused some of those close to become synchronized with him, building the Discord even stronger.

"Eru noticed. He introduced a second, and then a third theme into the Great Music. The second was mostly Manwe and Melkor managed to hold him back. The third? The third was Elves and Men, for Dwarves were to come later."

Thorin stirred uneasily, his racial pride pricked at the reminding that he and his were not allowed to be given life until after the Elves were created. But Glorfindel's voice offered no insult, and the story continued. The king settled back, listening intently.

Glorfindel's eyes reflected the light of the fire, almost with a glow. His words picked up slightly. "The third theme was not overwhelmed but it failed to correct the discordant music. In the end, Arda was brought into existence and Melkor was rebuked. His strength was praised, but he was brought up short by the reminder that anything he created had held its source within Eru, not himself. Thus even the Discord reflected Eru, not Melkor.

"This brought shame and anger." Glorfindel's voice hardened slightly. "I won't detail the many years that passed, or the atrocities brought about by Melkor when he descended to Arda. Those were dark, dark days." The golden-haired warrior sighed. "It would take a month of evenings to relate all that happened in the formation of what Arda would become and Melkor's efforts to keep creation back. Then there was the mighty Valar Tulkas."

Thorin held his breath, but Glofindel waved one hand indolently in the air as if to say that was a story for another time.

"Melkor went away, he came back. He was imprisoned. He was released. He raised followers, the one we know the most about is Sauron."

Here all the dwarves gasped or hissed, uncomfortable with that name.

Glorfindel nodded sagely. "Melkor crafted the Balrogs and the Rot and the Decay and the Orcs. He is the source of the filth and the Discord within Arda's creation." He took a steadying breath. "And now, at last, I can begin my story."

Thorin watched as Dwalin dropped his head into one hand and then rubbed vigorously, yet the bald warrior did not protest. The king snorted softly in amusement, but he too did not interrupt, nor call a halt.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili was no longer having to actively fight back against his body's pain response to not being able to 'wake-up'. He drifted in a misty languor with Tauriel cuddled up half on top of him, and half at his side. He lazily drew patterns on the back of the silken sheath she still wore.

The two laid together with far more intimacy and comfort than they'd ever shared before. Kili supposed she'd been successful in her 'seduction'. Oh, not that his body had thrown off a decade long growth spurt, of a sort, but that they were truly closer with each other.

He smiled and formed a picture in his mind. A flower. Gently he nudged his she-elf mentally and she allowed the message. A moment passed, then she altered the color of the flower slightly.

"Elenlote." He reminded her.

"Yes." She agreed. "Though I am not as good as you and sending images. I can mind-speak some, but it does not come easily."

"While I can't mind-speak at all, but can send a picture." He grumped, though not really in a bad mood. "We're a pair."

A comfortable silence fell between them. So when his mental walls were nudged, Kili opened without thought. Next he sat up dizzyingly fast, startling his red-haired loved as she shifted to keep from sliding off the bed.

"Kili?"

"Thranduil."

Tauriel's head whipped around the room even though she knew without a doubt that her former monarch was not present. "He does not mind-speak outside of line-of-sight." She said a bit dubiously.

"No. Just a feeling that he'd like to speak with me." Kili's eyes were rounded as he too couldn't help but look around the room as if to assure himself that Thranduil was indeed not present.

Tauriel relaxed a bit. "Yes. He can do that, if he knows you well. Apparently all your hard work with him has put you on that list."

"Wonderful." He said cuttingly even as he stood and started to straighten his clothes. Kili's face darkened with irritation at his good mood, and cuddles, being interrupted. "How does this go?" He tried to re-do the belt, but it wouldn't lie right.

Tauriel smiled gently and tugged him over to her, helping to smooth down the silk materials into a semblance of order. It was such an intimate, wifely, thing to do that it made her heart speed up. When done she brushed off his shoulders and fluffed his hair.

Kili gave her a sardonic look. "I …."

If he'd been about to protest, she didn't know. Tauriel interrupted him. "Please, let me. I like being able to touch you."

At this Kili blinked rapidly then grinned. "Only if I get to do the same." He leaned in and kissed her.

After several minutes, and multiple kisses, she pulled back to shake her head at him. "You keep the king waiting."

"Not my king." Kili whispered. "And not yours either."

Tauriel froze for a moment, still not used to that fact. She nodded, kissed him again and then pushed him away. "Maybe he's not my king, but he is our host. And he wouldn't call you without a reason." She hoped.

Kili nodded and reluctantly took his leave.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The fire light flickered and cast shadows on the storyteller, as the room grew colder. Then again, so did the story. No one interrupted in order to feed the hearth. Glorfindel's voice rose and fell as he described the wonder and beauty of Gondolin. He spoke on how Melkor, now known as Morgoth, hated and feared the House of Fingolfin, especially his son, Turgon. There had been a prophesy that from the House of Turgon would come Morgoth's doom. This drew the Dark Lord's eye to Gondolin with the intent of utter destruction.

"Finally it came to pass that Morgoth captured Maeglin, who was the nephew of the King of Gondolin. Though he was threatened with horrific and unimaginable torment, it was through other means that Maeglin gave up Gondolin's secret location and defenses. He had long lusted after Idril, and it was the promise of her hand upon her husband's murder, that he became a willing servant to the Dark. He doomed an entire kingdom because the lady he thought he loved, loved another instead. So Maeglin was sent back to Gondolin, to await the invasion and do his part in the destruction."

Thorin frowned as upon these words it seemed that Glorfindel's eyes moved toward Erelinde, before settling on Fili. Yes, yes. He could draw the parallels with his sister-son and cast Risil in the role of Maeglin. But she was not in a position to betray Erebor.

"We were at festival. For Maeglin's information aided Morgoth in choosing the time, and the forces bypassed much of our defenses with the knowledge passed over by the traitor. They came over the mountains and by the time we knew our peril, the city had been attacked by overwhelming numbers. We were lost."

There were several minutes of utter silence before Thorin frowned, realizing that Glorfindel wasn't going to speak of the actual battle. "I heard there was a dragon." He said dryly.

Several murmurs went up all around and the king was a bit shocked to see that while he'd been absorbed in the story his story had filled to near bursting. Dwarves were everywhere, included seated upon the floor.

"Really?" Glorfindel said in a disingenuous voice. "Hmmm. My throat grows parched and …oh, thank you." He said to one of Dain's soldiers who handed over a glass and bottle of wine. The elf looked down into the eager young face and sighed. "Perhaps another night."

"It was a fire-drake." Another voice said, his accent the rounded tones of Rivendell.

Glorfindel's eyes closed as he took a steadying breath. "Nuluin. I did not sense your arrival." He said without turning around.

"It is said, though I was not there, that Glorfindel and his House were defending the Great Market from orcs. That is when the fire-drake arrived and he had to cut himself through to escape."

"He?" Glorfindel protested gently. "It was entirely a group effort with many fine, strong, and brave warriors. And we were pursued, but orcs. Many of them."

"The House of the Golden Flower regrouped, it is said in the Square of the King." Nuluin paused and waited. Glorfindel made a noncommittal sound but did not disagree. "We can continue this another eve, it grows late."

Dwarven voices rose in protest.

"You do know I die in this story?" Glorfindel asked of no one and everyone.

The gathered dwarves called for more.

"Gothmog. His name stands for strife and hate. He was the Lord of the Balrogs, demons of shadow and flame. He was the High Captain of Angband, his only equal in ranking was Sauron himself. He had already killed two of the High Kings of the Noldor. Now he had his eye on the fleeing survivors of Gondolin. In his way? Glorfindel."

"I was hardly alone." The elf's words went unheeded as all attention focused on Nuluin.

The elven healer smiled, though there was sadness there too, just not the immediate pain of someone who'd been part of the battle. "Many great warriors died, including Turgon and Echthelion. The survivors were fleeing through a secret passage and the only way to allow that was to hold off Gothmog." Nuluin pointed at the golden-haired warrior who was unhappily staring into the flames.

"Many were lost." Nuluin continued. "But Glorfindel and his warriors gave time to those fleeing to escape. He and they even managed somehow to reach the passages. But in the effort, another balrog attacked. Glorfindel jumped in its path and defended as everyone else escaped. He was alone."

Gasps. Shocked murmurs. A deep sigh from a certain elf.

"He managed to fight through the creature's claws and mighty whip. He cleaved the iron helm and opened its belly with his sword. That sword." Every single eye went to the weapon at Glorfindel's side. "But as the balrog fell off a cliff into an abyss, he grasped his killer by his long golden hair, dragging him with him to his doom. Glorfindel's body was retrieved and borne up by the Lord of the Eagles, and he was buried."

Silence. The crackling of the fire was the only sound. Suddenly little Desil asked the only question he could. "Why do you keep it long then, you could cut it."

Everyone exploded into laughter, even Glorfindel.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Kili swept into his chamber, stopping as he realized it wasn't empty. "Father, uncle, cousin, and my love." His voice was full of cheeky sass.

Elladan rolled his eyes while Elrohir actually chuckled. They were playing cards with Balin, who had more coins in front of him than the other two.

Kili turned and smiled at a fully dressed Tauriel, a bit sad that she'd put her clothing back on. "All is alright?" She asked, without demanding he reveal what Thranduil had wanted.

"Perhaps." Kili's smiled dimmed a bit. "Increased spider movement to the north and west. Orc patrols getting bolder. The king thinks their looking for information on my whereabouts. He has not changed his routine in the slightest and the orcs aren't pressing that hard."

Elladan nodded thoughtfully. "Thranduil is obviously trying to act as if there is nothing here to hide. Good."

Kili nodded. "But it also means that they don't know where I am, which is good."

Balin nodded and pointed at the chair across from him. "Join us laddie. We're having a grand evening."

The dark-eyed prince slid a furtive look over at Tauriel, who was oiling some of her weaponry. She smiled at him. There was no way to slip out together for some more alone time. As a test he sent Tauriel a message, a very simple one, silently and in his mind. 'Missed you'.

"I'm sure she missed you too." Elrohir said dryly even as he shuffled the cards.

Okay. So. Not private, not yet. Kili made a face but joined the game with a grin and a light heart.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Thorin yawned and stretched. It had been a long, and informative, evening. Yet he'd slacked off on his paperwork and he'd pay for that tomorrow. Still and all. It gave him a new perspective on their elven visitors.

"Dwalin. Speak with Risil Blacklock tomorrow. Find out if there is more to this than wanting to know if I'm withholding messages."

The bald warrior nodded grimly even as Gloin protested that it was a useless endeavor.

Erelinde looked troubled and she glanced at Fili, then the king. "Has there been any messages?"

Thorin paused and gave her a weighty look. "No. But if I need to withhold information for the safety of this mountain, I will. Still. There has been nothing."

"Then perhaps it would be good to tell her so."

"She should trust my word." Thorin said cuttingly.

"Would you, in her place?" Erelinde said softly. "If in her kingdom and they said there was no message from home, would you trust without a shadow of doubt?"

Fili shook his head at her, but the crafter didn't seem bothered by the king's scowl.

"Chit has a point, I guess." Gloin said reluctantly and with a diffident shrug. "I wouldn't trust a Blacklock to tell me the weather or what was for dinner."

Thorin grunted and gave a reluctant nod. "I will think on it." He met Erelinde's direct gaze and gave her a deeper frown. She blinked, but did not back away. "Fine. You can tell her. But I doubt she'd believe you either."

Erelinde smiled and her whole face lit up. Thorin blinked, being a little too used to the dam. He'd forgotten how beautiful she really was. He glanced at Fili, who was looking besotted and proud. "You're too soft."

"Dwalin's not, and I'm learning." She with gracious aplomb.

The bald warrior grunted, his arms crossed over his chest. "The elf's story got to me a bit. Risil could be a stand-in for Maeglin. With Fili as the elven princess."

Fili scowled at the comparison.

"No." Erelinde countered gently. "Maeglin wanted Idril and had for centuries. Risil wanted the crown and the power. Big difference."

"Maeglin too wanted the crown." Fili pointed out.

"But he wanted Idril more, and he was jealous. Terribly so." Dwalin added in his thoughts. "It's not an exact match, no. But the point is thus, any kingdom, no matter how well defended, can fall due to treachery. From within."

Gloin shrugged and threw up his hands. "Fine? Want me to speak with Risil again?"

"No." Thorin turned to Erelinde. "Tell her about the messages, that we are hiding nothing from her. Don't try to play clever, just listen to what she might say and keep watch. Don't go alone."

Fili visibly tensed up. Thorin waved at him. "Yes, she can take you."

"Best not." Dwalin shook his head. "You are part of the bone stuck in that dam's craw. I'll go."

Erelinde lifted her chin. "But I am the one who will talk with her. You keep your big insensitive toes out of it."

Everyone blinked and turned to watch Dwalin, who sneered.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


	78. In which Dwalin is surprised

The touch was light and the voice was sultry and enticing. Fili's fingertips lightly hovered over her cheekbone, tracing the structure of her face with just a hint of contact. Erelinde's lips parted slightly as his dark sapphire eyes promised more intimate things. He started to subtly lean into her, only to halt as she stepped back away.

His hand moved from her cheek to wrap his fingers lightly in her nashatal braid, letting her only shift backwards by one step. "Erelinde?"

The dwarrowdam shook her head infinitesimally at him, her own sky-blue eyes asking for understanding.

"I've missed you." He whispered, giving an experimental tug on her breaded braid. Her hand came up and wrapped around his.

"I've gone nowhere." She said, then felt awkward and silly because she'd known what he'd meant. That during their small argument there had been a distance between them.

Fili smiled at her, the small dents in his cheeks appearing in full, and with a very appealing visage. He was so handsome. How had this happened? When they'd first met she'd really taken no notice of how Fili looked, or anyone else for that matter. But as a crafter, she knew beauty when she saw it, even in males. What had been, 'oh he's well put together' now seemed to be, 'why does my heart speed up every time my eyes land on him?'

Erelinde blinked nervously, her breath catching at his nearness, his focus on her. "Did you choose that beard style to highlight your dimples? It's not fair."

The charge actually startled him, she saw. It was Fili's turn to blink rapidly as his brain switched gears to catch up. He shrugged at her, teasing. "I don't have dimples." He denied blatantly. "I'm a dwarrow warrior. Only dams and dwarflings have dimples."

He wasn't being serious, the smile playing around his lips told her that much. Erelinde couldn't help but further the play. Her eyebrows lifted slightly. She reached up and touched the one on the right side of his face, liking the way he stilled and his eyes lit up further at even this most basic touch. "The one on this side is not as deep."

"Oh." He breathed out, as if she'd caught him by surprise or had something entirely clever, which she hadn't.

Erelinde suddenly realized that the surprise had been her touch, not her words. Fili did most of the touching between them, or at least initiated it. Yes it was right and proper that as the dwarrow he should seek her courtship and that he should be the more forthcoming. Dams accepted or rejected, they suggested and guided, but the poor males were the ones to have to put themselves forward. She'd always accepted this as a part of being dwarven. Yet?

Risil didn't do that.

That thought disturbed her on a fundamental level. She didn't want to be like the other dam, who was too bold and too …something. Yet Erelinde did admire her strength. And the dwarrow all seemed drawn to Risil Blacklock in some form or another.

So. In this situation, Erelinde knew she'd normally withdraw. She had no clue what her mother might have done, but Calbrinia would be bold. Her friends? She wasn't sure. The thought flew from her friends to the book they'd all read. What would the she-elf in those overly detailed poems do?

Boldly, and where she got the bravery she'd never know, Erelinde leaned in and pressed a kiss to the adorable dent in Fili's right cheek. And she didn't pull away. Instead she traced the dimple with the tip of her tongue before pulling back away. "That dimple, right there."

The dwarrow warrior appeared to frozen as she drew back to smile at him. "If you don't have dimples, then what is that?" She asked, her voice strangely raspy, almost hoarse.

Fili shivered, staring at her as if starving to death.

A slow clapping sound made Erelinde jump back in shock, her braid sliding through Fili's fingers as she pulled away. Blushing prettily she peered around him to the open archway finding the dam she'd just been thinking about.

"Dwalin. Risil." She acknowledged the two new arrivals.

The dark-eyed dam lifted her chin in challenge. "Lady Blacklock." She deliberately let her gaze slide over Erelinde as if the dam wasn't present. Her eyes found Fili and she smiled. "So irresistible."

Erelinde paused for a moment, taking in the picture presented. Risil, not classically beautiful but striking and intriguing, no one could deny that. The dam slid a side-ways glance at a dwarrow who'd stopped in the hallway outside to stare at her in admiration. Risil blinked and the dwarrow blushed, dropping the tool he'd been holding. He scrambled to pick it back up and beat a hasty retreat, bowing and stammering.

Dwalin rolled his eyes and leaned against the supporting column of the archway, taking the weight off of his still healing foot. He ignored Risil, and she him.

Then again, the bald warrior wasn't the only one being ignored. Erelinde herself was not in Lady Blacklock's regard, only Fili at the moment. As if this put the blond dam in a place below her own. Risil let her shawl slip down to reveal her bared collarbones and the swell of her upper bosom. To Fili alone, because no one else mattered, obviously. And all this while Fili was wearing Erelinde's beads. It was blatantly challenging and insulting, and yet subtle enough she couldn't get called on it.

She looked away, feeling shaky and unsure of herself. She wasn't bold like Risil or confident in her abilities as a female, like the poetic she-elf. Dwalin caught her eye, and he was frowning. Which was very usual. The warrior frowned even while at rest, Erelinde knew. Still, it felt like a judgement what with all he'd been trying to drum into her skull about royalty and protocol. Except, she wasn't queen yet. She was a mere crafter that was the only place she truly felt confident.

And the place that Risil wasn't. The thought bloomed within her head as Erelinde's spine straightened. Stupid. Why focus on what she wasn't, and not what she'd already achieved?

"I thought we'd done away with niceties when you tried to drug the king, seduce my dwarrow, steal a kingdom and a myriad of other things. If you insist on titles mine is Under-master Stormrune of the Weavers Guild. Lady." The last word fairly dripped in superior sarcasm.

Dwalin and Fili both stayed silent, yet both turned their focus onto Erelinde as if she'd just surprised them. Even Dwalin's frown wasn't quite as deep all of a sudden.

"Young for such a title." Risil commented dryly, implying that Erelinde was claiming something prematurely or not yet earned.

"I earned ever level of my title. You were merely born with yours." Erelinde's voice was just as dry, but far more cutting. She put her hands behind her back, twisting the fingers together so she wouldn't be seen shaking.

Dwalin and Fili both sucked in a breath, ready to jump between the two dams if necessary. It was a dire insult that Erelinde had just offered, basically stating that Risil was capable of no achievements or standing beyond that of her bloodline. To dwarves, this was a bloodletting offense.

Suddenly Risil laughed, nodding with something close to approval at the other dam. She gave a slight nod of her head. "Played, and played well. Dragged me out of my chamber when I should be sleeping soundly. Letting all watch us." She gestured around the open chamber, no doors keeping those in the hallways from seeing them. "Was your purpose thus? To regale me with your threads? You may weave cloth, but politics are no less knotty and definitely my forte. My craft may not be as tangible, but can have a stronger effect."

Erelinde paused, steeling her nerves. Playing 'trade the insult' with Risil had never been her intention. She'd meant to do this as a kindness, but the other dam never made things easy. "I have news. Or rather, a lack of news." She looked around, frowning at their open surroundings. "Sit."

"I have no desire to sit." Risil said, her voice gone hollow all of a sudden.

Irritation faded as Erelinde eyed her erstwhile rival, the stiff posture and the increasingly rapid breathing. She recognized the signs of emotional pain all too readily. "Sit." Her voice firmed, but still held a note of softer things, of real sympathy. "Fili. Wine please."

The Blacklock dam opened her mouth to argue, only to moan as Erelinde took a seat first. Normally this would have infuriated her, as it signaled that the crafter felt she held the higher rank. Only now it meant that the news being offered wasn't good.

"I don't need wine, or a seat. Tell me."

"Please." Erelinde reached out, and ignored when the other dam slapped at her hand. "Lady Blacklock …"

"You've already won." The words were torn from the darker-haired dam, whites showing around her eyes in a near panicked aspect. "Do you seek to shave the body?" Risil hugged her shawl more closely around her, this time out of need rather than a pose. "Just tell me." It wasn't begging, not with her pride, but it came as close as dragon scorch. And it probably burned twice as much.

The terminology alluded to an ancient custom back when dwarrow enemies would cut off the beards of the dead to humiliate them. No dwarf wanted to enter the Halls of the Waiting as either of two things, a coward or beardless. Over the millennia it had come to simply be a way to ask if you were trying to humiliate the other person.

"Of course not!" Erelinde looked over at Fili with a pleading look and a flick of her head. Her prince shook his head, he wasn't leaving her alone with Risil.

Dwalin growled at him. "Wine." He reminded the younger dwarf of what his dam had requested.

Fili looked torn, still not wanting to leave the two females alone. Instead he looked over at one of the guards hovering on the other side of the hallway. "Wine!" He demanded loudly and a bit uncomfortably. He still wasn't used to servants and guards, or asking any to do something he was quite capable of doing for himself.

Erelinde sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. When she looked up at Risil's face she nearly moaned at the lack of color, leaving the other dam's dark eyes dominating her pale expression. "The news isn't good nor bad, in fact it is the hardest news of all. There is none."

"So your king has told everyone to tell me." Risil said shakily, not fighting back this time as Erelinde took her hand and pulled her down onto the bench across from her.

Erelinde accepted a bottle and two glasses from the guard as he ran back to them, then shooed him off. She made quick work of pouring.

Risil accepted but only sniffed the glass, then the bottle, not tasting.

"You were the one dropping foreign things into drinks." Erelinde teased, then wondered as the other dam seemed to sway slightly. "Risil?" This time her use of the familiar name wasn't corrected.

"So. No news. Fine." Still not drinking the wine, the Blacklock dam began to rise.

Erelinde's hands came down on hers, stilling her for a moment. "There has been no messages. Nothing. Dwalin?" She called out, startling the bald warrior where he was leaning against one of the supports of the archway.

"Aye?"

"I know there has been no messages to Risil. But the king made it sound as if there had been no messages at all from anywhere near Blacklock land?"

It was a question, and one that put Dwalin on the spot. He obviously knew that Erelinde had done this to him on purpose. He scowled, but nodded roughly.

"Erebor has heard nothing, from anyone in that direction. This is not the king keeping messages from you out of spite or political gain. Mordor attacked us. Attacked you. Prince Kili has left the kingdom for places unknown not out of fear, but in an attempt to save this realm. The elves and humans go to reinforce their own defenses lest they fall to the shadows." Erelinde squeezed Risil's hand, and oddly enough, the gesture was returned. "We are not friends, but I have lost a brother in my past. I fear to lose much more lest there comes a way to defeat Mordor."

Risil's eyes were wet with unshed tears as she stared at the pretty blond before her as if seeing her for the first time. "There has really been no word?" She whispered.

Despite the fact that Risil was staring at Erelinde, it was Dwalin who answered. His voice was gruff, but not unkind. "There has really been no word." He affirmed. He cleared his throat and decided to expand. "Nothing from the east."

Risil gave a jerky nod of her head to show she understood the implications. It wasn't just a lack of messages from the Blacklocks, but an entire region. Meaning, someone or something was preventing news from arriving. But to what end? This is what King Thorin had been reluctant to tell her, and she even understood why, political creature that she was.

Risil let go of Erelinde's hand to grab her wine glass and drained it. "I have had word." She whispered tightly. "Not out here."

Dwalin's jaw clenched, but he gave no indication that he'd heard. Fili jumped visibly, but got himself under control. Poor Erelinde simply looked confused, then her mouth dropped open in shock as she half-stood.

Risil chuckled. "Great. Now I have to do something that would get that reaction from you. We're being watched, me especially. Stupid crafter." The words were harsh, but the tone was actually the friendliest Erelinde had ever heard from the Blacklock dam. "I owe you."

Erelinde started to shake her head in denial, only to be brought up short by Risil's hand on her cheek. "If you're going to be queen, take gratitude. It's as good a coin as gold, if not better. I admit I owe you, but I hate you and I hate being in debt. But it can never be said that I don't pay what I owe."

All eyes followed Risil as she neared the archway separating the small area from the hallway. It was late and the area wasn't crowded, but neither was it empty. Erelinde didn't know whom Risil thought might be watching, as there were too many milling around out there.

Risil let one edge of her shawl dip down artfully as she openly winked at Prince Fili, who looked like a stone statue so stiffly did he hold himself. "Everyone within Erebor has heard by now that Dwalin told you that I never would have been able to kiss Fili if he'd not been receptive, being the strong warrior he is supposed to be." She said in a sensual drawl with a heated look full of dark promises.

Erelinde finished standing, feeling like she was waiting for a hard blow. "Don't."

"Don't beg." Risil chided lightly. "It's beneath you as Under-master Stormrune of the Weavers Guild. And even farther below as a future queen." She started to turn away but managed to step on the trailing fringe of her shawl, stumbling.

Dwalin didn't move to help her, even as Risil caught her balance by catching hold of one of his strong biceps while he stood with arms crossed over his chest. She leaned closer. "Three days at most." She whispered, laying out the timetable.

He grunted, having realized she had 'stumbled' in order to give him that message. Then suddenly he froze as she kissed him lightly and turned away before he could react.

Fili blinked, utterly stunned and in disbelief of his own eyes. Erelinde's gaze widened almost comically.

Risil smirked, as she touched her lips, for all the world pretending to be judging the kiss. She shook her hand back and forth, then gave a soft frown and half-a-shrug.

Dwalin's fists clenched, but he had no recourse. He couldn't slam her, as she was a dam, a guest, a refugee, and even worse ….needed. Especially after her whispered words.

Risil yawned, and drew her shawl up and over her rather impressive cleavage, speaking loud enough to be heard but not to seem to be shouting. "There. My debt paid. Ask Dwalin now. What was it he said, no dam could kiss a good warrior unless he was receptive to her? Something about his defenses being too good." She laughed full-throated and delighted in herself. "So ask him. Does he want me? Or is Dwalin a poor warrior? Which do you think he'd actually admit to first?"

Erelinde sputtered and coughed, turning away in order to try and keep from laughing at Dwalin's furiously reddening face. Fili wasn't as polite, he was nearly doubled over with laughter at his cousin's expense.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Elrohir woke between one moment and the next. Asleep and then not. It was late, or actually very early, depending on how one chose to look at the day. The sun was not yet up therefore the new day had yet to begin. But humans accounted for time differently than elves. He and his brother had been dealing with Rangers for far too long for some influences not to creep in. And dwarves actually seemed to keep time much the same way as Men, which made it early morning.

He was out of bed and dressed in a robe before his thinking even reached a conclusion about the time. Elrohir glanced at his boots, but the call had seemed urgent, though he could hear nothing untoward. Ignoring his boots, he took his sword and dagger instead, both unsheathed.

Listening with his ears, his eyes, his nose, and his mind, the elf lord frowned. No one seemed to be intruding. He eliminated sound, then vision, then smell, from consideration. Mind. He listened and nodded, following the faintest wisp of unease right to his nephew's door. At this point he thought he understood what was happening, but just to be sure he did not disarm himself.

Elrohir slipped inside soundlessly. The only light came from the remains of the fire in the hearth. If they'd been in Lorthlorien or Imladris there would have been moon and stars as well, but they were inside the Woodland realm at the moment. "Kuilaith?"

The young prince was still asleep, though not at rest. His foot twitched and his expression flinched slightly.

Elrohir sighed. He was not adept at dream walking. Still. He cleared his mind, closing his eyes as he focused in on Kuilaith. The lad's mental defenses were improving, but still not completely effective.

The elf looked around, 'seeing' the clearing where they'd dragged themselves out of the river after the orcish ambush back at Erebor. Fili was injured, lung pierced by an arrow.

The dream, as is often true, wasn't an exact memory. Elrohir's grip tightened as he spotted the orcs slipping through the underbrush, sneaking closer and closer to Fili.

Kuilaith was standing in the clearing, wearing nothing but elven robes, and for some reason a crown of oak leaves. He was armed with what appeared to be a bent fork. He'd scare off a group of orcs, while behind him more would creep closer to his elder brother.

"Are you just going to stand there, or lend me a dagger?"

Startled, Elrohir cocked his head at his brother's child. Wordlessly he spun the hilt of his handle so it was presented toward Kuilaith. Gratefully the mixed-blood princeling discarded the fork in favor of the fighting blade.

"This is a dream."

Kuilaith blinked, considered, then nodded. "Obviously." He said, hiding the fact he'd not realized.

"Fili is safe at Erebor."

Kuilaith snorted, finding the comment ridiculous. "No one is safe at Erebor."

Elrohir nodded, accepting the truth of the statement. "No one is safe anywhere."

"Then why did we leave?" Kuilaith said, sounding a bit petulant.

The elf considered the question and his words carefully before finally speaking. "It is safer for your brother and the others with you not there. Mordor's focus is on you."

"I'm nothing special."

"Not true." Elrohir countered.

Kuilaith turned on him angrily, brandishing his own dagger at him while the clearing and orcs disappeared. Strangely, Fili did not. "I am not Tilion's Heir. I'm Thorin's heir."

The elf-lord said nothing, waiting.

Kuilaith moaned and dropped down next to his brother, staring into his unconscious face. "I should be Thorin's heir still. I would wish this different."

Elrohir nodded to show he understood, not that he was in agreement. "Would you wish away your father?" And himself, was the unasked portion of that question.

"Yes. No. Maybe. Are there other responses?" Kuilaith looked up, unhappy as he took his brother's limp hand. "No. I would not wish away my father, or you. But I also don't wish away my brother."

"Of course not. But this is a scrap of memory, a dream. Your brother survived and is healing well apace. He even survived a mountain coming down on his head." Elrohir pointed out.

Kuilaith nodded, then peeked at the too-still form of Fili, blood bubbling up around the wound, indicating the lung being compromised. He recalled his panic that day, the harsh hopelessness of not being able to do much. As he watched, his brother's face turned gray and dark. Lifeless. He moaned. "He's dead. Fili's dead."

"No." It was a rebuttal, but also a refusal. "You fear for your brother and your dreams turn dark. There has been no new attack on Erebor. King Thranduil would have heard."

Kuilaith wasn't listening though. Fili looked too real, and far too dead. "FILI!" The shout didn't stir the wounded blonde. Blood started to well up out of the wound in his chest more quickly. Rivulets began to pool around the arrow, then drip down the side of his leathers to soak into the ground. "No."

"Kuilaith." Elrohir tried to step forward, but found his feet sinking into the ground. If he'd been wearing his boots perhaps he might have slipped out of them. Then again, in dreams, nothing was real and all was real. "Kuilaith. Nephew."

"Fili! Hear me! Live, damn you! Live!" Kuilaith shouted at the top of his dream lungs. Blood poured out faster from Fili's wounds, and now it wasn't just the one in his chest. Blood seeped out from the corners of his mouth, his nostrils, even his ears. Kuilaith whimpered, pulling in on himself as he tried to will the bleeding to cease.

Elhorir sensed the gathering power and started to curse under his breath. He called louder and louder, but Kuilaith would not hear him. He struggled, but it only pulled his feet deeper into the earth.

In the dream Kuilaith began to glow softly, gaining in light and power as he desperately tried to will life into his brother. But his brother began to fade into transparency before him. Kuilaith shouted, concentrating all that energy, all that glow onto and into, Fili.

Elrohir roared as the light grew so bright he had to shield his eyes, then suddenly he was flung aside, no longer caught in the ground. Indeed now he was on the rather fine rug gracing his nephew's guest chamber, no longer within the dream at all.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Fili woke with a start, sitting straight up in bed. The winter chill of the room raised goose flesh along his chest despite his shirt. With a grimace he moved to the hearth to stoke the flames that had died down during the night. He shivered and wondered why he wasn't using his winter woolens, then he remembered they were hanging up to dry and his spare pair was with Erelinde for repair.

"So much for being a rich prince." Fili grumbled, stretching as he yawned. Despite the early, early morning he felt pretty good. Might as well get a jump on the day.

After dressing, his woolens at least dry this morning, Fili headed in towards the dining area. He grinned, spying his uncle just about to sit down. If Thorin looked surprised to see his nephew so early, he also seemed pleased. And tired.

Fili frowned at his uncle. "Did you even sleep last night?"

"No." Thorin speared some ham, nicely seared and still hot. "Why do you look well rested? You only retired a few hours ago."

Fili shrugged and grinned. "It's my youth."

Thorin scowled and grumped, but didn't argue. He looked around, the area was spare as the change in work shifts wasn't due for another hour and a half. "Dwalin told me of what happened."

Fili blinked, then grinned, then his smile slipped. "He did?" He tried to sound serious.

Thorin scowled at his sister-son, wondering if he'd missed some joke. "Do you find the dam's words credible?"

"Oh. Right." Fili shrugged, then nodded. "I see no benefit in her trying to lead us astray on this. Will you meet with her?"

Thorin chewed his food thoughtfully, in fact, eating several bites before he gave a short nod. "But she claims to be watched. I will think on this. I'm meeting Dwalin later this morning."

Fili grinned, his good mood still with him, despite the lack of sleep and challenges laying ahead.

The king sat back, shaking his head at his sister-son. "If I didn't know Kili wasn't here, I would swear you two are up to something. You have that look in your eye."

Fili ducked his head, trying to look innocent. Though he really didn't have anything planned. Just, it felt good to return to normal. "If you got some sleep maybe you could keep up with me."

Thorin sighed and scowled most fondly at his heir. He clapped Fili on the shoulder harder than he'd intended, then apologized quickly.

"For what?" The blonde asked.

The king flicked a finger at Fili's chest. "How's it healing? You keeping up with Nuluin?"

With a start Fili realized this was the first morning he'd awoken without there being some stiffness in his stretching. He grinned. "Feel great. Although …" He paused dramatically. "You might ask Dwalin how he's feeling, he was moving slow last night."

"Slow?" Thorin questioned as Fili stood, rudely grabbed a sweet roll off of his uncle's plate, absconding.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

The healer finished and spoke with King Thranduil who was still resplendent in his celebration clothing.

Tauriel handed Elrohir a cup of warmed wine with spices, and if he wasn't mistaken, a soothing tonic of some kind. He thanked her, but sipped judiciously. His headache did seem to fade a bit and he nodded.

"Well?" Elladan asked of the medic.

Thranduil sent an arch look at the elven father, who settled back on his chair rather impatiently. The king finished with the medic and sent him away, pinning Elladan with a quelling glance when that elf might have protested.

When the door shut, Thranduil nodded. "He rests and is well."

"What happened?" Elladan demanded.

"That is what I would know myself." Thranduil moved to stand in front of Elrohir. "You were in here when I arrived. Did something alert you? Some problem?"

Elrohir shook his head and regretted even the small movement. Slowly he drank about half a cup of the tonic before setting it aside. "Kuilaith dreamed. He was restless. I think I caught a scent of it in my own slumber, as he dreamt of the time he and I were in that ambush with Fili."

Elladan nodded and explained the event to Thranduil, who nodded thoughtfully.

"He didn't rouse easily and felt lost in his nightmare. I joined him." Elrohir said simply. "Kuilaith has been making great inroads in his training and I may have been curious to see what was bothering his sleep. He dreamed of his brother, fell injured. More so than had been actuality, as in the way of bad dreams."

"This felled him?" Balin asked, speaking up for the first time, worry in his eyes as he stroked his white bread.

"We spoke in his dream, and Kuilaith even knew it to be a dream. But Fili worsened and he became caught up in the moment. He was gathering the light about him, trying to will his brother back to health."

Thranduil's eyebrows arched elegantly. "Has he any training in the healing arts?"

"Nay. None." Elladan said with some weary amusement. "But knowing my son, that wouldn't have stopped him from trying."

"Especially when dreaming of Fili being hurt." Balin offered. "The brothers are quite close."

Thranduil made a gesture for Elrohir to continue. "The light grew too bright." He said carefully, giving his twin a certain look.

Elladan and Thranduil both winced, catching the meaning. Kuilaith had started to tap into the Light of the Trees, rather than the Eldar light within him. "Instinct or design?" The king asked.

Elrohir shrugged. "I doubt by any plan."

"You said that if he continued to tap into that he would do himself harm, that his mortal body wasn't built to hold such a thing." Tauriel's voice sounded strained and Balin reached for her, catching her hand in his own.

"He did himself no real harm, not this time." Thranduil said quietly and everyone breathed out a relieved sigh. "But we will have to add to his training, I never considered that he might, or even could, do such a thing while dreaming."

"Dream or vision?" Elrohir asked quietly. "It is not just my brother's blood in Kuilaith, but my father's as well. And the Lady."

"You said his dream was a remembrance of events that had already occurred." Tauriel pointed out.

Thranduil frowned as he considered that thought. "Visions are at times couched in what we already know." He turned to regard Elrohir. "You were there."

The elvish uncle frowned sharply. "It could have been either." He admitted. "The warning of danger from orcs or a memory of such danger. Both are real, and most likely there will be further threats from Mordor's fell creatures. Fili in danger? Again, he has been in the past and will no doubt be so in the future."

"Erebor is already alerted to dangers from these sources. Sending a warning seems redundant." Thranduil admitted. "And it is dangerous to keep sending messages, as it might lead our enemies to look this way in order to find you. And him."

"In this dream," Elrohir continued, "Fili bled. A lot. Eyes, ears, nose. Not just his original wound."

Elladan closed his eyes. "Sounds like poison."

Tauriel stirred. "That might not be vision either. There was already a poison attack at Erebor, before Saruman even revealed himself. All of this could be a normal dream of worry for someone Kili misses much."

"Master Balin?" Thranduil said the name blandly, and if there was any distaste in speaking with a dwarf it didn't show outwardly.

The dwarrow shifted in his seat. "Warn them. If we do not and something happens to Fili, then Kili would never recover."

"Agreed." Elladan nodded immediately. "I would rather risk suspicious cast our way than the loss of someone so dear."

"Dear to you or your son?" Thranduil asked in his prickly way.

Everyone bristled, but Elladan nodded at the king. "Dear to all who know him." He responded coolly. Let the king wonder at his feelings for his adopted son. Thranduil was not someone he trusted without reserve, nor was he anyone that Elladan would choose to confide in.

The king stared for a lengthy moment, then nodded graciously. "So will it be. Though I wonder. With Kuilaith attempting to heal his brother with such power, if this was a dream, then no matter. If a vision ….I wonder how Fili is feeling this day."

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Sick are you?"

Bofur stopped and grinned at Fili, he on his way into the healing halls with the prince just leaving. The duo stopped and ran eyes up and down each other, both pleased to see the other. Hands clapped each other strongly on the shoulders and foreheads came together to rest, sharing the very air between them with their breathing.

"Nay. Not sick. Courting." Bofur answered at long last. "You?"

"Getting the nod of approval from Nuluin. I'm finally healed enough to soak in a tub as much as I want." Fili grinned outrageously. "He marvels at how fast I am healing. Said it looked like I healed a month since he last inspected my wound, not the week it actually was."

"You sound good." Bofur admitted with a wide grin.

"Thanks to you." Fili sobered. His hand tightened on his friend's shoulder. "I owe you my life."

"We owe each other." Bofur waved off the words, and meaning it. "So. My dam, she in there?"

Fili grinned and nodded. "Wearing your bead."

"And several others." Bofur groaned good-naturedly. "But I'll win. After the dragon, the armies, the quest, and then an entire mountain on top of us? No. I'll win the lass, just you watch. I can't lose."

Fili laughed, nodding in support and approval.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"So. Risil kissed you."

Dwalin, caught in mid-stretch as he reached for a cup of milk, froze. He straightened and stared at his cousin and king. "Thorin."

Glorfindel looked up with alacrity. He'd not rested well, his dreams haunted by the past, and this distraction seemed promising. "She did what?"

Dwalin cut his eyes over at the too smug elf. He looked back at Thorin, shaking his head as if to say 'not now'.

Thorin smirked and crossed his arms. "Tell me again how Fili couldn't have let Risil kiss him if he hadn't somehow wanted it."

Glorfindel cupped his chin in one palm and slouched gracefully in his seat, watching with eager eyes. "I miss everything."

"I missed it too." Thorin sighed. "But luckily we have Dwalin here to tell us everything."

Dwalin clenched his fists and shook his head at the two of them.

"Risil." Thorin reminded him.

"Kiss." Glorfindel drew out the word with relish.

"Talk." Thorin demanded.

"Very funny. Chit was trying to prove a point. She did it to show Erelinde that Fili wasn't such a bad dwarrow after all. Most likely because Erelinde showed her kindness. That's all."

"Did she smell sweet? I'll bet she did. Did her scent linger after she left?" The elf asked.

Thorin grinned evilly.

"Said she was being watched, and she's had word from the outside." Dwalin countered.

"You told me that. You just left out the part about her kissing you." The king reminded him rather drolly.

Glorfindel looked amused. "Because he was embarrassed, or didn't want to share something so meaningful?"

Thorin appeared to think it over.

Dwalin scowled and ate with ill humor, delighting the other two no end.


	79. In which almonds smell burned

Kili yawned and stretched, reluctantly climbing up out of the abyss of sleep. His eyes ached and he felt hollowed out. Every nerve in his body felt like it was being rasped raw. Probably too much ale and wine at the party last night. He winced, he hadn't really imbibed that much, surely?

A cool rag was suddenly over his eyes, and it felt damnably good. He eased slightly, relaxing a muscle at a time as a gentle hand cleaned his face for him. There was something slightly herbal in the water, its scent teased him but he didn't recognize the exact components. Although maybe, "lavender?"

"And calendula." The voice was soft but unmistakably that of his father.

Kili gave a small smile, testing the waters. An ache, sore, but no stabbing pain, an improvement. His smile widened slowly. "Not familiar with that one."

"A form of edible marigold. I think the humans call it pot marigold, though I do not know why." Elladan said as he finished. "It is good for burns and small cuts."

Dark eyes blinked open as he turned curiously toward his father. Pain or no pain, he wasn't one to lie still. Kili moved to sit up and strangely Elladan appeared reluctant, though he backed away enough for his son to come to the edge of the bed. "Am I burned or cut? Just how much did I drink last night? Surely not enough to forget getting injured. What did I do, slip and fall into the hearth?" It was a poor attempt at humor and his father's initial lack of a response gave Kili pause. "Did I?" He asked incredulously.

"No, no." Elladan appeared as if wanting to say more, but he instead closed his mouth and frowned.

Kili blinked, losing some of his smile. "What? Did I step on any important toes last night whilst dancing?" It was a tease as he knew he had not, at least not that he could remember. In fact, his last memories were of going to bed after meeting with King Thranduil. "Orc problems?" He probed.

Elladan gave a small shake of his head. He started to speak, then stilled again. Kili started to feel really worried. "What news? Erebor?" The thought gave him a bad moment as some memory of a bad dream rose up within him.

"Kuilaith. Son."

"Tell me." Kili, catching his father's hesitance and worry, leaned forward to emphasize his need to know.

"The dance was the night before last." Elladan said, though Kili was pretty sure that hadn't been meant to be his first words.

"I wasn't that drunk." He denied, scanning his room to prove or disprove the veracity of his father's statement. "Not funny." He could see nothing amiss.

Elladan took a deep breath, held it, then looked his son in the eye. "You dreamed, and in your dream you started to gather the Light of the Trees to you. You knocked yourself out for over a day. The healers say you're fine, however."

"Hollowed out." Kili said, his voice sounding empty and pale. "That's how I feel. I did this in my sleep?"

"You were ….dreaming."

Kili's brow furrowed as he struggled to remember. "It was a bad one, a nightmare. Fili was hurt, by the river."

"We know. Elrohir caught some of your unease and tried to walk the dream with you. He saw." Elladan paused and seemed to steady himself. "We weren't sure, because of the Light you used, if this wasn't vision rather than memory."

Kili froze, his dark eyes wide, the whites growing all around as he stared at his elvish father in shock.

"You dreamed once before, of feeling trapped within trees. You came to me that night and I assured you it was naught but a poor dream." Elladan smiled weakly as his child's jaw unhinged slightly, his mouth dropping open. He reached out and tapped the side of Kili's cheek and the lad steadied himself, his eyes intense as he waited for his father to finish. "I think that was a regular nightmare, I really do. But at the time you asked about visions. This ability is not within me, but it is a part of my sire, the father of your father," here the elf placed a hand on his own chest, "and so too the mother of my mother."

Kili couldn't seem to wrap his mind around this bit of information. Suddenly he gasped, as he hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath. A chuckle without humor of any kind escaped him. "Heir to the moon guardian, a betrothal to a she-elf, an elvish father and family, Mordor seeking my blood, and the ability to glow and what leaves me reeling is the fact that I can't sleep in peace?"

"Not all visions come during sleep."

A harsh look from Kili was the prince's only reply. The father held up his hands as if in surrender.

A hitched breath and Kili was suddenly on his feet and half-way across the room. Elladan had to move quickly to stop him from leaving. "You're undressed."

Kili stared up into his father's eyes truly frightened. "Fili." His voice broke on that simple name, his hand tightening around Elladan's forearm as he tried to keep going.

"Has already been warned." Elladan said smoothly, running a hand down the back of Kili's head and shoulder. "We sent immediate word of all that Elrohir saw in your dream. And remember, we're still not sure it was a vision, only that the possibility exists."

Kili did not relax much, though he managed a ragged breath. "I want to go to him. I have to be there."

"And if it is nothing more than a nightmare?" Elladan asked soothingly. "You would put yourself and Fili in danger by showing up in Erebor? Do not make me stop you. I already knocked down my own twin to keep him here as well."

Stunned, Kili ceased struggling. "Elrohir?"

"I have no other brother, well, except for Estel but he is safe in Imladris and though he grows into a young Man, he is not here."

"You joke with me? Fili is in danger!"

Elladan made a soothing sound and shook his head. "We have sent warning. Thorin's response arrived not an hour ago. Fili is well." He said far too stiffly.

As if catching his father's unease, Kili's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Seeing the mulish expression and reading it aright, Elladan nodded and answered without being asked the question. "Fili is healed. After your …dream. After you used the light to will him back to health, all traces of his chest wound have vanished. A small scar for his troubles."

Kili's knees buckled and though he wouldn't have fallen, he did seem a bit unsteady as his father led him back to sit on the edge of his bed. "I cannot say for certain that you affected Fili's health by such a distance, he was already healing quickly. But the Light you gather is quite powerful."

Kili snorted. He knew what his father was trying to say. The Light of the Trees was too powerful for him and his mortal body. That was the reason he'd lost an entire day to sleep.

"King Thranduil is cautiously impressed." Elladan offered.

"Where are Elrohir, Tauriel and Balin?" Kili ignored the comment about the Woodland King. He was feeling too raw about not being able to rush to his brother's side, though he recognized prudence. "Did you have to tie down my uncle?"

This startled Elladan into a laugh even as he shook his head. "He is not the happiest with me, but now that we have had a response from Erebor he too is grumbling but settling down. He thought he could outrace the message raven."

Kili blinked, then blushed, as he realized that had been his first response too.

"Balin is in the kitchens with the healers and cooks trying to come up with a Dwarvish style meal for you for when you wake up. Tauriel washes up, she has not slept for as long as you have been out."

This brought Kili an unpleasant thought. He didn't dwell there though, not wanting to face the reality of what his love's grief would be once he faced his mortality. And every time he used the Light of the Trees, it burned more of his life expectancy with it, according to Thranduil.

He had power. But with every use, his life time shortened. He'd been reasonably sure he could keep from doing such, thinking the choice his own. But now it seemed that someone, or something, out there was forcing him to use that power, invading even his slumber. The Valar be damned. Kili sighed, collapsing back cross-wise on the bed. He pushed unanswerable things aside and settled on the most important to him at the moment, "Fili is really fine?"

"Better than you right now." Elladan said a bit dryly, as if wanting to say more. Kili waited, and he was not disappointed. "All of us are packed and ready to leave for Erebor on your word."

This brought Kili up on his elbows as he looked at his father.

"Yes. We've word from Erebor. And Elrohir was witness to your dream or vision, warnings are sent and being heeded. But Kuilaith …if there is more that he did not see, if we need to be there, only you can tell us."

Kili stared, unable to answer. He wanted to fly to Erebor as fast as possible. Yet that would ruin the plan they had in place to save the kingdom, his uncle, his brother and everyone else there. Mam. The Company. Everyone. It was safer for them if he stayed away. On that thought he once again 'saw' the memory of his dream, Fili gray with death and bleeding on the ground. His stomach turned over sickly.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"I feel fine. Great even! Will you stop asking me that?" Fili rose, his fists clenched. His eyes went from his mam, to his uncle, to his cousin, and every member of the Company present. "By Nain's hairy ass you can tell me what is going on!"

Dwalin rubbed his bald head and cursed under his breath. Thorin was a bit more direct, he put his hand on his sister-son's chest and pushed hard. Fili steeled his face and had obviously braced himself as he didn't even wobble.

Thorin's face hardened. "Sit, and watch your language in front of your mam."

Fili ground his jaw tightly and stubbornly stayed standing, though he did not try to bully his way toward the door as he had previously. He shot his mother a sullen look that was and wasn't an unspoken apology.

"Fili, please …." This from his mam.

As angry as he had been with her, still was basically, it tore at things deep within him to hear fear in her voice. His angry expression softened and he opened one arm to her. Dis walked in and wrapped her arms around her eldest child. It didn't matter that he was a full grown warrior, he would always be her baby dwarfling. She buried her head in his chest and he tightened his hold.

"I'm fine, mam. I'm fine. Better than fine. Only I don't like being locked up without cause."

"Your brother …"

"Had a bad dream. That's all. Really. This is Kili we're talking about. Not Galadrial or Cirdan or Elrond. Kili." Gloin said stoically from where he stood watch by the door, an sword in hand that looked out of place as it wasn't his customary weapon. "Elladan even said in his message that they weren't sure it was a true vision of any kind."

Fili stiffened at the mention of his younger brother.

"Kili can't have visions." Dis said, her voice muffled against Fili's side.

"And Sauron couldn't invade Erebor. A dragon couldn't be defeated. A dwarf would never marry an elf." Thorin's voice was dry as dust. "I saw Kili glow, don't tell me it's not possible."

Fili winced. If Thorin was this determined, he wasn't going to be going anywhere soon.

"I think we can dispense with turning aside things that don't seem probable." Thorin paused, irritated that he'd actually paraphrased Cirdan the Shipwright in a round about way.

"So. I'm a target." Fili yanked out the danger-sensing stone the elves had gifted to him. It was decidedly plain looking without even a hint of a glow. He made a rude sound. "Do we trust the elves at all, or the word of my younger brother who may have just had a bad night's rest? Besides, in the last year, when have I NOT been in danger?"

Gloin made a face from where he stood guard, next to his brother Oin. Nori was standing quietly with them. His arm was no longer bound tightly to his chest, though he still moved gingerly, healing from a broken collar bone. It didn't stop him from brandishing a weapon.

Bifur made a few grunts and hand signs, then shrugged. Bombur looked worried and Bofur just seemed lost in thought.

Ori stood quietly by the door, though the younger dwarrow seemed edgy and nervous. He clearly didn't like any of this. "Do we have to keep Fili locked up? And for how long?"

"I'll stay here for a week if you'll bring me Erelinde." Fili suggested, then grimaced as his mam punched his side with a hissed warning to behave. "Is she safe?"

"Glorfindel and Dori are with her now. The elf even deigned to stop holding the dwarfling so as to keep his hands free if a blade is called for." Nori said blandly. "Though the warning sent was specifically about you."

"I could be with her." Fili said, a smile that was more challenge than anything else, spreading over his face as he squared off with his uncle. "Since when do Dwarves hide?"

"Centuries past. Since we began living underground." Thorin replied easily. "We are not cowards, but nor do we paint targets on our backs and sit out in the open."

Fili's chin dropped slightly, though he didn't break eye contact with the king. Thorin said nothing and after a lengthy silence Fili finally nodded his understanding. "I can't stay locked up." He said, but with a less brittle voice.

Thorin grunted but nodded back. "I know." He didn't want to talk about the sick panic he'd felt with the message from the Mirkwood. He probably overreacted, though he'd never admit it. Only … the shadow of Mordor had come too close to Fili already.

Thorin had spent many a night since regaining his mind from the Dragon Sickness, sitting up early into the mornings. Working and worrying. And cursing himself for being thrice the fool. He'd almost lost the very bedrock of his life for the glint of gold and mithral. His people, his heirs, his family.

Now that he'd focused himself on the kingdom and on that family, Mordor seemed more determined than ever to destroy the very heart of him. Dis' sons. His sister-sons. Thorin grimaced. No matter who they were in reality, in truth they were as much an extension of himself as his own hands. That had been the most horrifying thing to discover when he'd been overcoming his illness, how close he'd come to cutting out his own heart.

His Company had known, though none spoke of it overtly. But Thorin could read the relief in their eyes and attitudes as he'd recovered himself. As for the lads themselves, several over the years had surmised that Kili had to be his favorite sister-son, for he'd been less harsh on the younger lad. He'd always said that this wasn't true, that he'd had to be harder on Fili so to shape him into the next king.

And that was mostly true.

Thorin grimaced inwardly. Kili had ever been the one to need him more while growing up. Though it hadn't been all give and no take. No. Kili had also been the one to tease him when he'd been in the foulest of moods, to bring a reluctant laugh out of him when needed. The one who'd been the bigger scamp and the bigger problem.

Fili. Fili had been his rock. Yes, a scamp as well, but in a quieter way. The two together were nearly enough to make him yank his beard out at times, but often as not he was quicker to forgive Kili. Why? Because Kili was always sorry. Fili wasn't, or at least not as much. Kili followed him without question, Fili followed but also pushed back more.

When Thorin had become himself once more, Kili had forgiven him without question or reserve. Not so Fili. His golden heir had forgiven only warily, watchfully. It chagrined the king to the quick of his being, but he'd not realized how much of his heart his crown prince had held until then.

Then the arrow wound to Fili's lung. Bad, but normal. They were Dwarves, used to danger and fighting. Battle wounds were not a good thing, but at least an understandable part of their lives. Until Saruman.

When Fili had been lost in the rubble of Erebor, thought lost by murderous magic, Thorin had had to face a deep truth. If Fili had died, he would have lost something as vital to him as his own blood. Kili was like Thorin's own child, beloved and special. But Fili was a living breathing part of his very being and he hadn't even realized it.

And now Mordor was threatening them both.

The king cleared his throat, fighting against his own initial response to danger. "No, we won't keep you locked up, it's not our way. But we need a chance to check everything out and put precautions into place."

Dwalin pointed harshly at the golden heir of Erebor. "Fili. Before you eat anything, before you drink anything, you use that rock from the elf-witch." It was a command.

"I have been." Fili nodded, sensing a chance to get out of this room. He'd been listening to Grimbasher talk about mining when from out of nowhere guards had arrived and whisked him off without explanation. It had been galling in the extreme.

There was a series of knocks on the door in a specific pattern, though the impact was at a higher height than any dwarf living under the mountain. Glorfindel.

Dwalin grunted and replied with a brush of his knuckles over the door, letting the elf know all was well on this side. He opened the door, then scowled, though the others in the room couldn't see what he was looking at.

Dis put her hand on her dagger but then relaxed as she spied the golden haired elf. Her eyebrows rose as he stepped aside and allowed two dwarrowdams with babies in their arms in first. Little Desil scampered after them. "I thought he had deigned to give the dwarfling back?"

"I did." Glorfindel waved a hand elegantly toward Sila's mother, who was indeed holding the baby dwarrowdam. "But if there is any danger …"

Thorin actually managed to crack a smile.

Fili glowered and even the sight of a confused Erelinde coming into the room did not help. "So." He said in a tone colder than the weather outside. "I'm to be lumped in with the dams and dwarflings?" He was obviously feeling shamed by the implication.

Dwalin stared at the lad and grinned evilly. "No." He paused deliberately. "Your mam is free to come and go as she pleases."

Fili sneered and stepped forward, ready to draw blood. Dwalin stepped forward, never one to let a challenge pass unmet.

Nori whistled loudly, though if anyone thought it was to calm anyone down, they would have been sore disappointed. "Dwalin's foot isn't fully healed. Fili seems to be at full strength and his blood is up. I put the odds on Dwalin in the first seven minutes, after that, if Fili is still in it, the odds shift to his favor for youth and endurance."

Glorfindel sighed and rolled his eyes as he motioned for the dwarrowdams to move out of the way.

"ENOUGH!" The king roared. "I did not yank my heir down here to save his life only to have him end up black and blue."

"The colors wouldn't be on me." Fili avowed, glaring fire at Dwalin who seemed unimpressed.

"Save his life?" Erelinde overcame her confusion to look up in alarm. "Again?"

Fili's eyes rounded and he nearly bit off his tongue to keep from barking at his betrothed. Dwalin grinned with dark pleasure. "Yes again."

Realizing she'd impugned Fili's bravery and honor, Erelinde quickly switched gears. "Our enemies must know that Erebor's strength and future lie with Prince Fili then, to keep coming after him."

Ori whistled at the dwarrowdam in approval and admiration, giving her a quick nod and wink. Even Dis smiled at her words.

Dwalin grunted, cut her a quick look, then backed off subtly. He bowed with exaggerated care toward his prince, though not with one drop of remorse or humility.

Fili ground his teeth, but made no moves to attack.

"In any event, my money is on the prince, at any time limit." Erelinde continued, then let her voice go as dry as an elvish wine. "Risil Blacklock has already proven that Dwalin's defenses has ….holes."

Now everyone erupted into laughter except for a certain bald warrior. At least the tension in the room evaporated swiftly after that.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"A lot of messages to and from the Mirkwood." The sullen orc said, his spine twisting notably to the left in response to a huge lump on one side of his mottled chest. His skin appeared rotting and gray and greasy with an unwashed aroma that stung the eyes.

Even to one comfortable among orcs, goblins, spiders and all manner of nasty things, this particular creature was odious. "What did you expect? They now know they have a mutual enemy. They would treat with each other."

The sullen one ducked his head in case a blow was to be heading in his direction, but he ended up looking cowardly and foolish as no threatening move was made.

The leader, a much larger orc with a straight back and slightly cleaner armor except for the blood stains left over from the original warrior, sneered in derision. "Our orders were clear, search for those elves in the company of dwarves."

The sullen one shifted his weight and scratched his balls absently. He seemed tentative as he spoke though, "but Mirkwood has a lot of elves, they could be hiding there."

This time the ducking motion wasn't quick enough to dodge the blow. The sullen orc went to the ground, bleeding from three places as he roared, only to settle down at a harsh look from his commander.

"That pretty-pretty elf with his antlered crown and mount has lived in isolation for centuries. He imprisoned the dwarves in his prison cells. Erebor would not look to the Mirkwood for help or shelter, the hate goes too deeply." The straighter orc said confidently and with a decisive nod of this head.

The other orcs all agreed with him as he walked past the fallen one on the floor, stepping cruelly on his hand and breaking several fingers as he passed. "Why take advice from someone so stupid?"

The sullen orc sat up, cradling his broken hand and forgetting about the Mirkwood and focusing on thoughts of revenge. He was too cowardly to do much, but a knife in the back only needed an opportunity.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

"Sounds like poison." Gloin said, reading the warning message for perhaps the fiftieth time. "Bleeding from the mouth, nose and ears. That sounds like Blacklock doings."

Dwalin looked around the hastily appointed room. Mismatched furniture had been brought in and the dwarrowdams and their children, luckily there weren't too many in Erebor yet, were over in the connected sitting room. Most of the Company were with them, but at the moment most were with the females and dwarflings. Well. Except for one. He scowled at Erelinde.

The blonde dwarrowdam, secure with Fili's arm about her shoulders, scowled right back at the bald warrior.

Thorin, seeing all this, shot both of them warning looks.

"They wouldn't try poison." Erelinde finally said. When Fili's arm tightened around her, she laid her head on his shoulder and he grunted in satisfaction.

"Stop cuddling." Snarked Dwalin. "And I shouldn't have to remind you that the Blacklocks already tried poison."

"No. Risil tried to seduce the king, though it wasn't technically a poison." Dis commented. "Sit up straight dear." Whether she was talking to her son or his paramour, it wasn't clear.

Fili growled without heat. "If I'm going to be locked up then I'm going to make myself as comfortable as possible." He did not sit up, and indeed brought his hand up to the side of Erelinde's face in order to keep her snuggled close. He frowned when she moved instead to straighten up, even smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt. It helped though to see the pretty blush in her cheeks.

"We should throw every Blacklock out of the gates." Gloin grumped.

"What did Risil have to say when you spoke with her?" Erelinde boldly asked King Thorin. When he didn't respond, her eyes seemed to take on a disappointed cast.

"I have no time for her."

"She said she'd had outside messages and it was time sensitive. Three days. That was a day ago." Fili brought up the obvious.

"You think she was going to warn you about the poison?" Gloin frowned in disbelief, shaking his head.

"They wouldn't try poison, I'm telling you." Erelinde protested again.

"Don't be naïve dear." Dis said quietly, though with support and patience. "While the potion Risil tried to slip my brother wasn't poison, it was close enough. And there was the time with the ale you all told me about."

Frustrated, Erelinde shook her head. "Exactly. Risil Blacklock was there. And I thought it was decided that the poison was more than likely Saruman? It doesn't matter though. Risil knows …"

"She knows how to manipulate things, but she's not as politically savvy as she thinks." Gloin dismissed the thought with a flick of his hand.

Erelinde, frustrated, reached out and took Fili's sensing-stone from the tabletop. "Risil was there the night with the ale. She saw this rock in action. She saw it glow to warn us of poison. She knows Fili's protected by Elvish magic. So she wouldn't attempt poison."

Thorin blinked, suddenly intrigued. He stared at the beautiful dwarrowdam as if finally deigning to notice something interesting.

In the silence, Erelinde blushed further, settling back further into Fili's support. "I think she's trying to tell us something and I don't think it can wait."

Gloin frowned thoughtfully, scowling. Finally he nodded most gravely. "It shames me, but the lass is right."

Thorin had known the dam was right from the moment the words were shaped in her mouth, but he was gratified to see his cousin come to the same thought. "Go to the Blacklock lass."

"She said she thought she was being watched." Dis warned, even as Gloin shook his head.

The red-bearded merchant-warrior sighed unhappily. "It shouldn't be me. I've missed too many signs already. Anger. Grief. I don't know. Someone else should go get the Blacklock dam." He stood, shaking out his hands as he moved to the door. "I need some things from your study, King Thorin."

Thorin frowned to hear the more formal address, but he nodded in assent. Gloin left without further word.

"I'll get her." Dwalin started to stand, halting only as his king shook his head.

"Send Ori." Thorin commanded.

The bald warrior frowned, waiting.

Thorin raised an eyebrow, demanding compliance wordlessly. Unhappy, Dwalin moved to the other room to get Ori.

"Uncle …" Fili didn't add to the start of his thought or words.

Erelinde patted his hand. "Ori has been seen being friendly with Risil in the past. It would be less suspicious if he sought her out, rather than Dwalin who all the mountain knows is at loggerheads with her."

Thorin blinked at the blonde lass and gave a reluctant nod of approval.

Fili nodded, proud of Erelinde but also a bit chagrinned that she'd understood before he.

Dis saw her son's brief reaction and made mental note to speak with him later, privately. It occurred to her that if she wanted to be rid of Erelinde, there were cracks that could be taken advantage of, spread and deepened. Fortunately, she was coming to appreciate Erelinde now. She'd have to watch though. If she noted such, others might as well. Risil, for example.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Tilion's Heir.

Saruman frowned, ignoring the ache in his fingers that still weren't completely healed. The weather was doing him no service. Nor was the hearth fire he was using adequate to his needs. But he was stuck beneath the tower proper, hiding from those above, and those that sought his head.

If he'd not revealed himself at Erebor, then he could still be sitting on the upper floors of his tower. Not cowering in the mud, at least symbolically. Hiding. Letting those Rohirrim who were more under his influence 'attend' the lower levels of the tower, the ones dug into the ground.

Above walked the fools thinking they were protecting the tower, and the world, from Saruman. Not knowing he was beneath them the entire time.

Saruman's satisfaction faded as he shivered and wished again he were above in his comfortably appointed chambers. Not hidden away.

This was Kili's fault. Kuilaith.

The wizard frowned, the memory of that battle muzzy. More than likely an affect of having Sauron manifest through him. He'd never been so exhausted in all his long, long life.

What had gone wrong? How had he failed? Galadriel had come. But how? Why? He'd blocked everyone present from reaching out mentally. Had she still sensed? Saruman shifted uncomfortably in his seat, distracted by the unfairness of his favorite chair being above him on another floor of the tower.

Perhaps he should send Galmod to appropriate his chair? Yes. Pretend it was in need of repair? No. Why would the Rohirrim care if …oh, he could have the commander 'decide' to store the items he desired. Store them in the lower levels, below ground. Yes. That could work.

A bright light. Brighter than he could account for. Striking him, throwing him down. Damn that Galadriel. Only, she hadn't been there yet.

Galmod Wormtongue's arrival, scurrying into the room with a meal and without bothering to bow, distracted the wizard. When he was done harshly scolding his purloined servant, Saruman sighed.

What had he been thinking on?

Oh yes. Tilion's Heir. Worrisome portents. Now. What, or who, could it possibly be?

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o

Risil preened. Perhaps anyone else being the center of intense scrutiny of proven warriors all with reason to hate, would have been nervous. If the Blacklock lass had any nerves, she wasn't showing them. Cleavage though, that was being shown.

Dwalin frowned, unimpressed with the tactic. Though from the look on Ori's face, others might be a bit more impressed with the lass' charms. Perhaps he needed to knock some sense in the lad, though if Nori's expression was anything to go on, he wouldn't need to do anything.

"We're alone. Speak." Thorin demanded.

Risil cocked one perfectly arched eyebrow and languidly turned her bright eyes to each person in the room. "Alone?" She purred.

"As alone with my brother as I would allow." Dis commented with a threat under her smile and hard-eyed gaze.

"You? Allow? I thought he was the king? Did I curtsey to the wrong member of the royal family?"

"Enough." Dwalin barked out the word, scowling.

Risil deliberately eyed the twenty or so feet separating the two of them. She smiled at Dwalin as he leaned against the far wall. "Feeling defensive?" She teased outrageously.

Dwalin's scowl deepened, but no one else in the room laughed.

Risil noted the tense expressions, prudence demanded that she back off. Instead, the dwarrowdam slowly moved around the perimeter of the room, noting who backed away from her, and whose eyes followed her movements. She circled until she stood next to Dwalin.

The bald warrior was giving her nothing but a frown. He didn't even flinch as she leaned right in front of him, feeling her gown tighten in just the spots to outline her generous curves that happened to be in all the right places. She took hold of a chair and pulled it toward her.

Interestingly, Dwalin didn't deign to offer his assistance. Risil smiled and took a seat right next to him. Where, since he was standing, he had an excellent view into the shadow provided by the neckline of her low-cut gown.

Dis fought the urge to do something. Slap the chit, or applaud. Both might have been good. She watched her cousin Dwalin ignore the bounty just under his nose, and how the Blacklock dam didn't like being ignored. "This could get ugly."

"Already it is." Gloin said, having returned with a large pile of parchments, though he wasn't currently reading any of them.

"Who's watching you and why?" Thorin asked suddenly, his eyes cold and unimpressed by all the goings-on.

Risil blinked over at the king and wisely decided not to play with her answers. "I don't know. Blacklocks, perhaps. I don't feel safe in my own house."

Everyone stiffened. It was a quote from a well-known Dwarven song. It meant more than the mere sum of the words. Risil wasn't telling them that she owned Erebor or any such nonsense, what she feared was violence and danger from those she should be able to trust, her own people.

"Explain." Thorin demanded, though his voice was gruff, some of the harshness had dissipated.

Risil calmly and coolly explained about the message she'd received from her brother. And the package with the crystals that had come with instructions. When she was done, no one spoke, all looking toward the king.

Thorin's eyes narrowed. "You tell us this, why?"

"There are poisons that have no scent or taste." Risil stopped, waiting for the king to nod, which he did after a lengthy moment. "And some that only a portion of people can smell."

Thorin grunted. It was true enough. There were some things, a certain poison for instance, that smelled like burnt almonds. Or so he'd been told. He wasn't someone who'd been able to catch that scent. "The crystals?"

"Poison. Burnt almond smell." Risil acknowledged with a lift to her chin.

Thorin though didn't question her statement, but nodded. The lass relaxed, though only slightly, relieved her believed her on this.

Ori seemed confused. "But the message from your brother said it was a sleeping draught, and it might be better if you drank as well."

"The message wasn't from Himlis." Dwalin pronounced.

Risil shivered, but didn't look at him as she nodded. "I knew that."

"Your brother, Himlis, he knows you can scent this poison?" Fili asked, his expression neutral.

"He knew …knows." Risil stumbled a moment, her gaze dropping for the first time since entering the chamber. A hand came down on her shoulder, not in comfort, but there was a form of support. Dwalin. She did not look up at him as she shook his hand off. She was a dwarrowdam of the Blacklocks, she didn't need support or comfort.

"Himlis and I both could scent this poison, and my brother knows this." Risil's chin rose, her pride on full display.

"Could he not be telling you to take yourself to the Halls of the Waiting rather than to winter here?" Dis asked, though her voice showed she didn't belief this suggestion herself.

Risil shook her head. "My brother had a difficult time learning his runes. Mixing up the direction of the strokes. Sometimes they'd be transverse, or backwards."

Thorin grunted. He'd heard of several with such a problem over the years.

"That message said it was written in his own hand. Himlis would go to any length to keep from writing anything. And if it was in his hand, it wouldn't be so well written, neat, or orderly. At least one word would have been spelled wrong or backwards."

"Nightingale?" Dwalin's harsh voice made goose flesh run up and down her spine, but Risil still refused to look up at him.

"A nickname within the family only, or those close to us."

"You sing well?" Gloin asked.

"Nay." Risil laughed, full and throaty and without a hint at how close to the edge of real fear she was. "Hideously. My family mocked me, thus the name."

"So. Someone close to you, but definitely not Himlis, wrote that message." Fili said even as his mind raced at the implications.

"Not so close that they care if I live or die." Risil paused, tilting her head slightly. "Or they care, but care closer to the side where I die."

"I told you, poison." Gloin sighed.

Erelinde straightened, looking unsure, she looked first to Fili, then the king. Thorin blinked and nodded at her to speak. "Risil knew about the sensing-stone. I still say that whomever seeks to poison us, they don't know about it."

Ori scratched his head. "The message had to come from a Blacklock. Otherwise how would they know to use a family nickname for Risil?"

"But the Blacklocks knew I would be testing my food with elvish magic." Fili added. "So it can't be them."

"Which Blacklocks knew about the attempted poisoning here at Erebor?" Gloin asked, his hands going to the parchment rolls he'd brought in.

"You have an idea?" Thorin asked, seeing the light in his cousin's eyes. "Tell me."

"A moment's leave." Gloin pointed at Risil Blacklock and repeated his question.

Risil shook her head, but then gamely answered. "All of us. It was widely discussed following the incident. Himlis and Gresol both wanted to be assured that none of ours had done such a thing."

Gloin, rather than disappointed, grunted in approval. "All those Blacklocks in Erebor."

"And those camped outside." Dwalin added, sounded confused.

"Those aren't the only Blacklocks." Gloin began to unroll a parchment.

Risil made a dismissive sound. "Those at home would have no way to get here on time, or any means to do such a thing."

"No. But what about the ones that fell in that initial skirmish with orcs that you faced on your journey here? Where you rode in with Saruman."

Everyone jumped a little at the mention of the former white wizard.

Gloin smile grimly. "Saruman. A traitor to all things living. He met you on the road, that was the story?"

"That was the truth." Risil whispered, her eyes large.

"And you lost several of your warriors." It wasn't a question. Gloin began reading off the names of those lost.

Risil shook her head in confusion and then at the mention of one name jumped up, badly startled, the sound of her gasp nearly echoing. "Jekes son of Rhekis?"

Gloin stopped and nodded with a deep sigh. "So. A warrior lost in battle, but somehow rejoining you in another battle. All with orcs."

"Kerchik." Risil sounded lost for the first time. "He was recovering, then he was dead." She straightened her back, staring at the king. "Kerchik seemed surprised to see Jekes, saying that he had seen him fall."

"But at the wrong battle." Fili sounded grim.

Silence fell between everyone, as all struggled to come to terms with what was going on. Finally Dis looked up after many lengthy minutes.

"What do we do with this?" The princess asked.

o.o.o.o.o

o.o.o.o.o


End file.
